Have you ever been caught off guard in a conversation about your faith?

You thought you knew what you believed… until someone asked why. And suddenly, you froze. Maybe it was a co-worker who said, “All religions are basically the same,” or a social media post that twisted a Bible verse just enough to make you second-guess what you’ve always held true.

That moment is a reminder: faith can’t be inherited or assumed. It has to be rooted. Grounded. Stronger than emotion. Stronger than an assumption. Stronger than cultural drift.

Enter the book of Jude. It's only 25 verses long—but it packs a punch. It’s not a cozy devotional or a Pinterest verse. You won’t find, “Contend for the faith!” etched on a coffee mug at Hobby Lobby. (Although… maybe we should start that trend.)

Jude doesn’t write to make us feel good. He writes to wake us up.

The church he addressed wasn’t under attack from the outside—it was being undermined from within. False teachers had slipped in, softening truth and twisting grace. And that sounds… eerily familiar.

Today, we live in a culture that says:

“Live your truth” instead of “Follow the truth.”
“Spiritual, not religious”—as if picking beliefs is like building your own burrito.
We love hearing about healing and wholeness—but rarely about sin, repentance, or the cross.

That’s why Jude's message is so relevant right now. He’s not just calling us to believe something—he’s calling us to stand for something.

Before Jude tells us what to do, he reminds us who we are.

“To those who are called, loved in God the Father, and kept for Jesus Christ…” (Jude 1:1)
You’re not forgotten. You’re not barely tolerated. You’re called by God. You’re deeply loved. You’re guarded—kept—by Jesus Himself. That’s your foundation.

And when you’re anchored in that kind of identity, you don’t need to drift. You don’t need to bend or blend into every cultural trend. You can stand firm—not out of fear or pride—but because you know who you are and whose you are.

Contend for the Faith
Jude then makes a sharp pivot:

“I felt compelled to write and urge you to contend for the faith…” (Jude 1:3)
The word “contend” in Greek is epagōnizomai—where we get the word “agonize.” It’s not passive. It’s not polite. It’s not just nodding quietly in a small group when someone misquotes Scripture. It’s spiritual grit. Like an athlete in the final stretch. Like a soldier refusing to surrender.

To contend means we don’t let the gospel get diluted on our watch.

And yet, that’s exactly what’s happening all around us. We’ve got:

Prosperity Jesus
“If you have enough faith, God owes you success, wealth, and maybe a Tesla.”
Self-Help Jesus
“Jesus is your life coach, here to help you become the best version of you.”
Hyper-Grace Jesus
“God is love, so don’t worry about sin. You don’t need to change.”

These distortions sound spiritual. But they’re hollow. And worse—they’re dangerous. Because they deny Jesus as our Sovereign and Lord—not by name, but by redefinition.

This is more than a theological debate. It’s generational. It’s communal. It’s gospel-critical.

If we don’t stand for truth:

We’ll watch the gospel get rewritten in real time.
Our kids will inherit confusion, not conviction.
And our communities will miss out on the only message that actually saves.
So What Do We Do?
We don’t rage. We don’t run. We stand.

We build muscle memory in Scripture.
We disciple intentionally—not just emotionally.
We raise our kids on gospel truth—not just good morals.

And we stay anchored—not in fear, but in grace and truth.

Because the gospel doesn’t need editing.
It needs anchoring.

Jude reminds us: It’s not about how you start. It’s about how you finish.

So let’s be a church—and a people—who don’t just know the truth… but live it, speak it, and defend it.