You hear three voices every single day. One of them will kill you spiritually, and the problem is that the voice that will kill you sounds exactly like the voice of God. Almost 3,000 years ago, there was a prophet who learned this the hardest way possible. In the last hours of his life, he heard three distinct voices telling him what to do. He resisted the first like a warrior, he resisted the second like a saint, but he yielded to the third, and they found him dead on a road with a lion sitting next to the corpse without devouring it and a donkey three meters away without moving, as if nature itself had been paralyzed before the judgment.
This man had split an altar with the power of God just a few hours earlier, he had healed the hand of a king, and he had pronounced a prophecy so precise that it would be fulfilled 300 years later with the exact name. He was the best prophet of his generation, and the third voice killed him in less than a day. In the next few minutes, you are going to discover the exact three voices he heard, why the third is the only dangerous one, and how to identify it in your own life before the same thing happens to you, because those same three voices speak to you every week, and the average believer confuses the voice that is going to destroy them with the voice they believe is saving them.
This is in First Kings, one of the most ignored chapters of the Old Testament, but what the Bible shows in this passage is the most accurate map of spiritual deception that exists in all of scripture, and it starts with a desperate king, a forbidden altar, and a nameless man who walked straight into the mouth of the wolf.
Let us rewind three days before that corpse on the road. Nobody knew the name of this man. The Bible never says it; it calls him simply the man of God. He came from Judah, from the southern kingdom, where they still worshipped in the temple of Jerusalem. The kingdom was recently split in two after the death of Solomon. In the north ruled Jeroboam, a man who had been a servant of Solomon himself and who now reigned over ten tribes. Jeroboam had a problem: his subjects kept going up to Jerusalem to worship in the temple, and that represented a political threat.
If the people maintained their religious loyalty to the south, sooner or later they would maintain their political loyalty to the south as well. So Jeroboam manufactured two golden calves. One he placed in Dan at the far north; the other he placed in Bethel, just 16 kilometers north of Jerusalem. And he told his people that those calves were the gods that had brought them out of Egypt. If it sounds familiar, that is because it is; it is exactly the same thing Aaron had done in the desert centuries before at the foot of Mount Sinai. Same sin, same phrase, same object of worship.
And this is where it all begins, because God was not going to let that altar stand without confrontation. And for the confrontation, He did not choose Elijah; He did not choose a well-known prophet. He chose a man whose name has not survived in history, an anonymous man, and He gave him three specific orders: go to Bethel, confront the altar, and on the way back, do not eat bread, do not drink water, and do not return by the same road you went. Three surgical prohibitions with no room for interpretation.
The man obeyed immediately, packed his sandals, left Judah, crossed the invisible border that separated the two brotherly kingdoms, and walked to Bethel. There is something you need to understand about that walk that the text does not say out loud. Bethel was not a neutral place; Bethel was the epicenter of the institutionalized idolatry of the north. It was like a foreign agent walking alone into the heart of a hostile city to publicly denounce the dictator in his own square. This man knew he probably was not coming back alive, and yet he went.
When he arrived, Jeroboam was standing by the altar. The text is specific: the king in person was officiating the worship. Around him were the priests that Jeroboam had invented, not a single one from the tribe of Levi. The smoke of the incense rising, the king’s hands smeared with the fat of sacrifice, a bull newly slaughtered still steaming on the stone, the people witnessing in a quiet semicircle with that mixture of reverence and fear that a crowd has in front of a king officiating. And in the midst of all that, a foreign man, dusty from the road, alone, without escort, without an entourage, made his way to the front. And the anonymous man raised his voice and spoke directly to the altar, not to the king. He said that a son would be born to the house of David named Josiah, and that this Josiah would offer on that very altar the priests who burned incense there.
Pause. That prophecy was fulfilled 300 years later with surgical precision. Second Kings chapter 23 documents it: Josiah, king of Judah, came to Bethel, destroyed the altar, and burned human bones on it. The anonymous man was saying a proper name that nobody had heard yet, and that name was going to fulfill his word three centuries in the future. But the anonymous man did not stay to see that; he had to deliver the message and get out of there. And as an immediate sign that his words came from God, he announced that the altar would split and the ashes would be scattered.
At that instant, the altar split. Jeroboam, furious, extended his hand to order the arrest, and his hand dried up in the air. He could not lower it, he could not move it, paralyzed.
There is something I want you to see here that many overlook, because from this moment on, the first voice begins to sound. The first voice is the voice of power. Jeroboam, with his hand dried and desperate, begs the anonymous man,
“Pray for me, so that my hand may be restored.”
The anonymous man prays, the hand is restored, and then the king does what any king of the ancient world would do in that situation; he invites him to his house,
“Come with me, eat with me, and I will give you a reward.”
That is the first voice. It is the voice that offers immediate reward for the service rendered. It is the voice that says you have already fulfilled your mission, you deserve it, rest, eat, accept what corresponds to you. It is the voice of patronage. It is the voice every preacher hears the first time a large church offers him a higher salary. It is the voice every believer hears when, after years of faithfulness, someone tells them they have earned the right to slack off a bit. And the anonymous man recognized it instantly. The text says he responded without hesitation,
“If you were to give me half your house, I would not go with you, nor would I eat bread or drink water in this place, because so it was commanded me by the word of the Lord.”
The first voice was offering him a royal banquet; the anonymous man rejected it in public in front of all the priests of the calf, in front of the king whose hand he had just healed. That is the most underestimated scene in the Old Testament: an anonymous prophet saying no to a king at his own altar.
But notice something: the first voice was easy to identify because it came from an obviously contaminated place. Jeroboam was the declared enemy of God, the altar was split, the priests were false, the sin was public. Resisting that voice, in a way, is what any believer with a conscience does. The average believer recognizes the voice of the world when it comes dressed as Jeroboam, recognizes the corrupt offer when it comes with the smell of pagan incense. That is not the difficult part of the spiritual life; the difficult part, the part that kills, comes later. And the story of the anonymous man is about to show you how.
The anonymous man left Bethel by a different road than the one he had taken to enter. He obeyed that third order too. He walked away from the split altar, from the healed king, from the priests of the calf. He walked south toward Judah, toward his home, probably thinking his mission was over, probably feeling the fatigue of someone who has just carried a 300-year prophecy in his throat. And at some point along the way, under a tree, he sat down to rest. And there appeared the second voice.
The second voice arrives riding on a donkey. It is an old prophet from Bethel. The text does not present him as a false prophet, does not accuse him of idolatry, does not associate him with Jeroboam; it simply says he was an old prophet who lived in Bethel. His sons had told him what had happened at the altar. The old man mounted his donkey, went out to look for the anonymous man, and found him sitting under that tree.
And here begins the most subtle test in the entire Bible, because the old man did not speak to him like Jeroboam. He did not offer him gold, he did not offer him power, he did not offer him any corrupt exchange. He spoke to him with the language of spiritual brotherhood,
“I too am a prophet like you. Come back with me to the house, eat bread.”
The anonymous man repeated his first answer,
“I cannot, it is the order of God.”
And it was there where the second voice turned into the third, and the third is the one that kills.
Before you move forward, I want you to notice something, because here is the exact moment where the line is crossed, and when you see how it is crossed, you are never going to hear certain phrases the same way again. The old prophet pronounced a phrase that changed history. He said that an angel had spoken to him by the word of the Lord, and that this angel had given him a new order,
“Bring him back to your house so that he may eat bread and drink water.”
The biblical text, with a brutal sincerity, adds a single explanatory line: he lied to him. First Kings chapter 13 verse 18: he lied to him. It does not say he was mistaken, it does not say he was confused, it does not say he had a false vision; it says he lied consciously, deliberately, using the name of God to say something that God had not said.
And the anonymous man, who had resisted the king, who had walked to Bethel to face idolatry, who had delivered a 300-year prophecy with his life in his hand, yielded. He went back with the old man, ate bread, drank water, broke all three prohibitions at once. Why? That is the question nobody asks, and it is the question that contains the whole lesson of this passage.
Here is where the story of the anonymous man crosses with another story that happened almost 1,000 years later in a completely different desert, because what happened to the anonymous man under that tree is exactly the same pattern that Satan tried with Jesus in the desert of temptation. Matthew chapter 4: Jesus had fasted 40 days, he was physically exhausted, and three voices came to him one after another.
First voice,
“If you are the Son of God, turn these stones into bread.”
Jesus responded by quoting Deuteronomy,
“Man shall not live by bread alone.”
Second voice,
“All these kingdoms I will give you if you bow down before me.”
Jesus responded,
“The Lord your God shall you worship.”
But the third voice was different because the third voice quoted the Bible,
“Throw yourself down from the pinnacle of the temple, for it is written that He will command His angels concerning you, and in their hands they will sustain you.”
Satan quoted a psalm, quoted literal scripture, used the language of God to say something that God was not saying at that moment. And look what happened: Jesus also had to respond by quoting Deuteronomy chapter 6,
“You shall not tempt the Lord your God.”
The third voice was the most dangerous because it came dressed in scripture. The anonymous man of First Kings did not see that coming almost ten centuries earlier. This is the pattern, and this pattern is everywhere, not just in these two passages.
The first voice is the voice of the declared enemy, sensual, material, of direct power. It is easy to resist because it comes dressed as what it is. The second voice is the voice of spiritual ambition or of legitimate rest, and it requires discipline to resist it. The third voice is the only one that kills the mature believer because the third voice imitates God, uses religious vocabulary, quotes verses, presents itself as a brother, speaks of angels, of revelations, of words of the Lord. And it arrives precisely at the moment when you have just resisted the first two, when your guard is down because you believe you already won the battle.
The anonymous man resisted Jeroboam, resisted the royal banquet, resisted the gold, walked alone to a tree in the desert, and there, when the enemy could no longer touch him with direct methods, a man appeared who presented himself as a fellow prophet, who spoke with religious authority, who quoted an angelical revelation, and who told him a single thing: God changed his mind about you. That is the poison. God told you one thing before, but now I have a new word for you. That phrase has killed more believers than atheism. That phrase is the center of almost all modern spiritual deception, and the old prophet of Bethel pronounced it almost 3,000 years ago, probably out of jealousy, probably to see if the anonymous man was as holy as his son had told him, probably out of a dark impulse that he himself did not fully understand.
Think about this: in the room of the old prophet, the table was already set, bread broken, water in the jar, probably olives, goat cheese, honey, the complete oriental hospitality. The anonymous man sat down. I imagine him hesitating for a second, looking at the bread, looking at the old man, and then something yielding inside, the certainty he had had all morning, the conviction with which he had rejected the king starting to dilute in front of an old man who spoke to him with tenderness. If it had been Jeroboam offering him that bread, he would not have touched it. But this was a brother, this was a prophet, this one claimed to have received a fresh word. And the anonymous man reached out his hand, took the bread, broke it, ate, drank, and while he was chewing, with his mouth still full, the word of the Lord came, not to the anonymous man, it came to the old prophet, the liar, the one who had just deceived him. And through the mouth of the liar, God pronounced the sentence,
“Because you were rebellious to the mandate of the Lord and did not keep the commandment that the Lord your God gave you, but turned back and ate bread and drank water in the place of which God had told you not to eat bread nor drink water, your body shall not enter the sepulcher of your fathers.”
The anonymous man heard it with the food still stuck in his throat. In that moment he understood. He understood that the voice he had followed was not God. He understood that the man in front of him had lied. He understood that he had broken what he had come to keep. And most terrible of all, he understood that God was speaking now, in that moment, through the mouth of the man who had deceived him. The same man who used the name of God to lie now was used by God to pronounce judgment. There is something brutal in that symmetry; there is something that chills the blood.
The anonymous man finished eating, nobody stopped him, the old man saddled a donkey and lent it to him, and the anonymous man left Bethel again, this time with his sentence upon him like a heavy blanket. He walked who knows how long, knowing that something was going to catch him on that road and knowing that it had been he himself who had given the order with his own mouth by saying yes to that table.
If this is stirring something inside you, wait, because what comes now is worse. What comes now is the detail that turns this scene into the most impeccable judgment of all scripture. The lion appeared on the road. The text does not say from where, does not announce it, does not describe its size; it simply says that he found him on the road, a lion, and it killed him. The anonymous man did not have time, probably did not even see the blow coming. He was riding on a borrowed donkey, tired, with his stomach still heavy from the bread and water, thinking perhaps that the sentence would take time to arrive, that God would be merciful, that he could fix everything upon returning to Judah, and then the lion appeared. A single swipe, the body falling from the donkey into the dust, the donkey stopping dead, petrified, unable to flee.
And now pay attention to the detail that separates this story from any other animal death in the Bible. Five impossible things happen at the same time:
One, the lion killed the prophet but did not devour the corpse. That goes against all biology of a predator that has just spent energy hunting.
Two, the donkey that carried the prophet stayed next to the body, it did not flee. A donkey in front of a lion always flees.
Three, the lion did not attack the donkey. A lion next to a defenseless prey kills it simply because it can.
Four, travelers began to pass along the road and saw them: a dead prophet, a sitting lion, a standing donkey, and the lion did not attack the travelers either.
Five, the travelers went to Bethel and told what they had seen, and when the old prophet himself came to collect the corpse, the lion was still there and let him do it.
The lion behaved like a ceremonial guard, like a judge with a robe. It was not a lion; it was an instrument, it was the sentence with four legs. Do you understand what God was doing? It was not just killing the prophet; any animal could kill him. It was leaving visible proof that this death was not an accident. God turned a lion into a traveling tribunal. If it had been an accident, the lion would have eaten the prophet, would have attacked the donkey, would have fled from the travelers, everything normal. Instead of that, God stopped the predatory instinct for hours, hours, so that every person who passed along that road could see with their own eyes that God had judged that man. The corpse was not a body; it was a public announcement.
The old prophet, the one who had lied, arrived at the place, collected the body, the text says he lifted it onto his own donkey, the liar’s, and took it back to Bethel to bury it in his own sepulcher. And here comes the last layer of this story that nobody tells you. The old prophet gave orders to his sons,
“When I die, you will bury me in the same sepulcher where the man of God is buried; put my bones next to his bones.”
Everyone reads that as repentance, as a gesture of reconciliation. Error. 300 years later, in Second Kings chapter 23 verses 17 and 18, when Josiah, the king prophesied by the anonymous man, came to Bethel to fulfill the prophecy, he ordered to burn the bones of all the priests of the calf. He opened sepulchers, took out bones, burned them on the altar. But when he arrived at the sepulcher where the man of God was, Josiah asked whose monument that was. The men of the place responded to him that it was the sepulcher of the man of God who had come from Judah 300 years before and announced against the altar what Josiah was fulfilling in that moment. Josiah said,
“Leave him, let no one move his bones.”
And next to those bones were the bones of the old prophet of Bethel, those of the liar. And the bones of the liar were saved from the fire, not because of himself, but because they were mixed with the bones of the man he had killed. The old prophet did not bury himself next to the anonymous man out of repentance; he buried himself next to the anonymous man out of calculation. He knew that the bones of the anonymous man were untouchable, he knew that the prophecy would be fulfilled, and he used the corpse of the man he had killed as a funerary shield. 300 years of strategy. The liar, even in death, kept using the anonymous man.
Pause a moment because what you have just heard changes everything. It changes how you read this chapter, it changes how you understand the nature of spiritual deception, and it changes how you should hear certain voices that speak to you with religious frequency. Let us go back to the three voices, because you also hear three voices every day.
The first is the obvious voice, the offer of money that you know comes from a dirty place, the relationship that you know is wrong from the beginning, the evident lie that invites you to save effort. That voice is easy, you recognize it if you have walked with God even for a year, you identify it in a second. It is the voice of Jeroboam next to the split altar; it is the voice that comes with the smell of false incense. That is not the one that is going to knock you down.
The second voice is the voice of premature rest after a victory, the voice that says you have already done enough for today, you deserve to slack off, God is not so strict. That voice requires discipline to resist it, but most mature believers recognize it.
But the third voice, the third voice is the one you do not see coming, because the third voice presents itself as a spiritual colleague, as religious authority, as new revelation, as fresh word, and always, always comes to tell you that God has changed his mind about what he already told you. That is the fingerprint of deception: a God who contradicts what he already said through the mouth of someone who presents himself as a divine messenger. It is not God; it is Bethel with prophet’s clothes.
Listen, there are people in your life who have told you, or will tell you, or are preparing to tell you that God wants for you something different from what Scripture clearly already told you. Sometimes they will come with good intention, others like the old prophet for motives that even they themselves do not fully understand: jealousy, insecurity, a desire to prove to themselves that they are still relevant, a need to control. The old prophet was not a cartoon villain; he was an embittered old man who lived in an idolatrous city. He had probably ceased to be relevant years ago, and when he heard that a young man had made the king’s altar tremble, something twisted inside him. He did not want to destroy him, he wanted to check him, or he wanted to have him close, or he did not know what he wanted, but he lied, and the lie killed the best prophet of his generation.
There is a Christian today who is going to listen to this message sitting in a small room, probably at night, probably because they have been feeling for weeks that something is not right with a voice that has been speaking to them, a voice that says the right things with the right words but that is pushing them to a place that scripture already said cannot be. A university student whose most respected professor, one who also declares himself a Christian, is explaining to him with patience that the commandments of the New Testament are cultural, that they no longer apply, that God is not as rigid as he thought. It can be a girl whose spiritual mentor tells her to go ahead with a relationship that in her heart she knows is wrong, but she speaks with such calmness, with such pastoral authority, with so many verses in her mouth. It can be a married man whose pastor is advising him to stay quiet in front of a sin he saw inside the church because revealing it would divide the ministry, and God loves unity more than truth. Each one of those voices is an old prophet riding on his donkey leaving Bethel, saying,
“I too am a prophet like you.”
If you are that person, I want you to listen to this with attention. If God told you one thing and now a word arrives through another channel, another prophet, another voice, another message that says the opposite, that word does not come from God, no matter how much it comes wrapped in biblical vocabulary. God does not contradict what he already revealed. God does not change his mind about his clear orders. God does not send angels to dilute what he already said. The anonymous man died because he believed that God could contradict God. And that death, that judgment, that lion sitting next to the corpse are in the Bible precisely so that you do not do the same.
And here is the hardest part of all: the anonymous man was not a weak believer; he was the best prophet of his time. He walked to Bethel alone, split the altar with a word, resisted the king, resisted the gold, resisted the banquet. It was in the moment of his greatest obedience when he fell, because the enemy does not attack the weak, he attacks the strong. In the moment of his greatest victory, the anonymous man fell, after his biggest feat, not before, after, when he believed he was already safe, when he sat under the tree to rest, when he lowered his guard because he thought the mission was over. It was not over. The three voices come in order, and the third always arrives when you have survived the first two.
I know this is heavy, so let me give you something that changes the perspective completely, because almost 1,000 years after the anonymous man, there was another prophet who also walked alone, also fasted, also was confronted by three voices, also heard the third voice quoting scripture, but that one did not fall. Jesus in the desert of temptation conquered exactly where the anonymous man had fallen, and the reason is simple and devastating: the anonymous man used another prophet as a filter for the word of God; Jesus used the written word as a filter for the word of any prophet. That is the difference between the two. The anonymous man trusted a brother; Jesus trusted Deuteronomy. One heard a man say,
“I too am a prophet.”
The other responded with,
“It is written.”
And that is why Jesus remains the model and the anonymous man remains the warning. Every voice, every revelation, every fresh word, every new spiritual direction has to pass through the filter of what God already left written. If it does not pass that filter, it is not from God, no matter how much of a brother the one who brings it is, no matter how much religious authority they have, no matter how many angels they claim to have seen.
And here is an irony that I need to show you. Think about the name of the place: Bethel. In Hebrew, it means house of God. The old prophet did not live in a brothel, he did not live in a pagan temple; he lived in the house of God. That is the point. The most dangerous deception does not come from outside the temple; it comes from inside. It comes from people who use the name of God to say things that God does not say. Bethel, the house of God, was the place where the golden calf was placed. Bethel, the house of God, was the place where the lying prophet lived. Bethel, the house of God, was the place where a faithful minister entered alive and left with a death sentence. The house of God, when it gets corrupted, is the most dangerous place on earth because it uses the right vocabulary to say the wrong things.
When the old prophet buried the anonymous man, the text says that he wept over him,
“Alas, my brother!”
Thus he called him,
“Alas, my brother!”
And that phrase is one of the saddest in the entire Bible, because the man who was weeping was the same one who had killed. He wept with sincerity, probably, and remained a liar until death; both things are true at the same time. The deceiver can weep for his victim and still be the deceiver. Tears are not proof of innocence, tears do not erase the lie, and the old prophet with all his pain did not retract publicly, did not confess, did not say,
“I lied.”
He only wept, buried him, and asked that his bones be mixed with those of the anonymous man 300 years later to save himself from the fire of Josiah, and he was saved. Strategy until the last breath.
Listen to what I am going to tell you with all the weight I can put on it. If you ever feel that you are successfully resisting the first two voices, that is precisely the hour to double your guard, not to lower it. It is precisely the hour to open the scripture, not to close it. It is precisely the hour to distrust new revelations, not to embrace them. The third voice waits exactly for that moment. The third voice never arrives at the beginning of the battle; it arrives at the end, when you already conquered, when you are exhausted, when you are sitting under your tree looking at the sky feeling that the worst has already passed. There is when the old prophet mounts his donkey and goes out to look for you.
And the problem is that you are not going to be able to distinguish his voice by the tone, because the tone is going to be kind. You are not going to be able to distinguish it by the vocabulary, because the vocabulary is going to be biblical. You are not going to be able to distinguish it by the authority of the messenger, because he is going to present himself as brother, pastor, prophet, apostle, teacher. The only way to distinguish it is by whether it contradicts what God already told you. That is all, that is the test. Is what this messenger is telling me contradicting what scripture already left clear? If yes, it is not God, even if he comes dressed as an angel. If no, examine it with patience. But the test always, always is Deuteronomy chapter 13: if a prophet announces something to you, even with signs, but turns you away from the commandment of God, do not listen to him. That prophet is a test, and you have to pass it.
The anonymous man did not pass it, that is why he is in the text, that is why God allowed his story to be recorded forever without a name, without praise, only with his error marked as an eternal warning. His prophecy about Josiah was fulfilled three centuries later with precision; his death is a lesson that remains valid three millennia later with the same precision. Both things are his legacy: the obedience that split an altar and the disobedience that killed him. God did not erase either; both are there.
There is something more, and with this I close, because I need you to see why this story is not just a warning, it is also hope. Look, if the anonymous man, the best prophet of his time, could be deceived by a third voice disguised as a brother, then you and I do not have to be surprised when it happens to us. And if Jesus, almost 1,000 years later, conquered exactly where the anonymous man fell, then in Christ we have the victory that the anonymous man lacked, because now every believer who walks in Christ has something that the anonymous man did not have: he has the complete scripture, he has the Holy Spirit dwelling inside, and he has a high priest who already passed through the desert of temptation and conquered. Hebrews chapter 4 verse 15: we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who was tempted in everything according to our likeness. Jesus was tempted by the three voices and conquered all three, and now he intercedes for you every time you hear all three. Every time the third voice, the one that quotes verses, the one that sounds like a brother, the one that promises you that God changed his mind speaks to you, there is a Christ on the throne praying for you. That is what the anonymous man did not have, and that is what you do have.
If you have arrived here, if this word is piercing you inside, if suddenly you are thinking of a specific voice that you have been hearing, give it hype right now. This type of message has to reach more people. And if you know someone who needs to hear this, someone who is about to break a clear commandment of God because a colleague, a mentor, a brother, a teacher is telling them that God changed his mind, share it. This could be the difference between that person ending up like the anonymous man or like Christ.
We return to the dry road, to the three voices, to the image of the corpse and the lion. Now look at that scene again. There is no tragedy there; there is grammar, there is a diagram, there is a map. Every believer walks every day along that same road, every believer hears those same three voices, each one decides every day if the filter of their faith is going to be the word of another man or the written word of God. The anonymous man chose the first and died; Jesus chose the second and conquered. And between those two models, on that dry road between Bethel and Judah, you walk with your own mission, with your own altar to split, with your own three voices waiting for you on the other side of obedience.
And someone, at some point along that road, is going to come out to look for you riding on a donkey, probably someone who seems spiritual, probably someone who speaks well, probably someone who has lived more years in Bethel than you have been walking, and is going to tell you a phrase that sounds like it is from God. He is going to invite you to a set table, he is going to offer you broken bread and fresh water, and in that moment everything is going to depend on whether you have the scripture open in your hand or if you have hunger and fatigue in your heart. The anonymous man had hunger, and that is why he is buried in a sepulcher that was not his, in a land that was not his, with a name that nobody remembers. The lion remains sitting next to the corpse, the donkey remains without moving, and somewhere in Bethel the old prophet keeps weeping at the door of his house, preparing the sepulcher where one day he wants to be buried,
“Alas, my brother!”
He says,
“Alas, my brother!”
And the words get lost in the air like a smoke that never finished rising.
There is a video on screen now that takes this to another level, because if this that you just saw were the three voices of the prophet, what follows explains the three voices that Jesus heard in the desert and why the third is the one that more modern believers are failing to identify. Click it. What comes now responds to the question that perhaps you are already asking yourself.
Disclaimer : This content may be created by AI for entertainment purposes. Any resemblance to real persons, events, or places is coincidental.
