By Anthony Pritchard — 2025
“But if ye be without chastisement, whereof all are partakers, then are ye bastards, and not sons.” — Hebrews 12:8
“There is a sin unto death: I do not say that he shall pray for it.” — 1 John 5:16
“Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth for ever.” — 1 Peter 1:23
The child of God is not exempt from discipline. On the contrary, chastisement is the very evidence of divine sonship. “For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth” (Hebrews 12:6). If a professing believer lives in sin without correction, Scripture is blunt: “Then are ye bastards, and not sons” (Hebrews 12:8).
Chastisement is not condemnation—it is preservation. It is the Father’s hand keeping His children from destruction, not casting them away. It proves that salvation is not maintained by the believer’s grip on God, but by God’s grip on the believer.
The parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11–32) illustrates this beautifully. Though the son squandered his inheritance and descended into ruin, the father never disowned him. When the son returned in repentance, the father ran to meet him, clothed him, and restored him—not because the son had earned it, but because he was still a son.
Likewise, Israel—though chastened severely for her rebellion—was never utterly cast off. “For I am with thee, saith the Lord, to save thee: though I make a full end of all nations whither I have scattered thee, yet will I not make a full end of thee: but I will correct thee in measure, and will not leave thee altogether unpunished” (Jeremiah 30:11). Paul affirms this enduring mercy: “God hath not cast away his people which he foreknew” (Romans 11:2).
Divine chastisement, then, is not the mark of rejection but of belonging. It is the Father’s unwavering commitment to bring His children home—even through pain, even through loss—because they are His.
There is a comfort that is counterfeit—offered not by God, but by the flesh and its deceits. It soothes without sanctifying. It speaks peace where there is no peace: “They have healed also the hurt of the daughter of my people slightly, saying, Peace, peace; when there is no peace” (Jeremiah 6:14). This is not the comfort of the Holy Spirit, but the anesthesia of spiritual neglect. It numbs rather than heals. It leaves the old man alive and unchallenged.
But legitimate correction is the fruit of love—a Father’s resolve not to indulge His child’s rebellion, but to restore him through discipline. The prodigal son found no lasting comfort in the far country. It was only when hunger met humility that he “came to himself” and returned to the Father (Luke 15:17–20). Likewise, when Israel grew rebellious, the Lord declared: “As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten: be zealous therefore, and repent” (Revelation 3:19).
False assurance says, “I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing”—but heaven sees the true state: “wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked” (Revelation 3:17). True assurance does not silence conviction; it submits to it.
The child of God may fall, may wander, may suffer—but he is not forgotten. He is pursued, corrected, and preserved. It is the rod and the staff that comfort—not flattery, not indulgence. As it is written: “Before I was afflicted I went astray: but now have I kept thy word” (Psalm 119:67).
If chastisement marks true sonship, then endurance reveals the nature of the seed. The incorruptible seed does not wither under affliction—it is purified by it. The trials that shake pretenders steady the sons. As Peter declares:
“That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 1:7).
Endurance is not passive resignation—it is spiritual resolve. It is the Spirit of God working in the believer:
“For it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure” (Philippians 2:13).
The child of God may stumble, may grieve, may even cry out, “Why?”—but he does not turn back. As Hebrews affirms:
“But we are not of them who draw back unto perdition; but of them that believe to the saving of the soul” (Hebrews 10:39).
The world often mistakes perseverance for personality or grit. But in the child of God, it is rooted in something far deeper: divine life. John writes:
“They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would no doubt have continued with us: but they went out, that they might be made manifest that they were not all of us” (1 John 2:19).
The one born of God endures—not flawlessly, but faithfully—because he has within him a life that cannot die.
“Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock:
And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock” (Matthew 7:24–25).
For the seed that God plants, God also waters, God also keeps, and God also brings to fruit.
John warns:
“There is a sin unto death: I do not say that he shall pray for it” (1 John 5:16).
Paul echoes:
“To deliver such an one unto Satan for the destruction of the flesh, that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus” (1 Corinthians 5:5).
This is not the loss of salvation—it is the ultimate chastisement. God may remove a believer from this life to prevent further dishonor, but the spirit remains secure.
All men are born of Adam’s seed—corrupt, fallen, and condemned.
“Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned” (Romans 5:12).
“That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit” (John 3:6).
The flesh is not yet redeemed. It cannot be reformed; it must be crucified. Yet our flesh—our body—will eventually be redeemed:
“And not only they, but ourselves also, which have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body” (Romans 8:23).
The seed of Adam brings death because it brings sin:
“For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Romans 6:23).
This is why the New Birth is not optional for eternal life—it is essential.
Peter declares:
“Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth for ever” (1 Peter 1:23).
This new man is not a cleaned-up version of the old—it is a new creation:
“Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new” (2 Corinthians 5:17).
John writes with stunning clarity:
“Whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin; for his seed remaineth in him: and he cannot sin, because he is born of God” (1 John 3:9).
This is not a denial of the believer’s struggle in the flesh, but a declaration of the sinless nature of the new man. The seed of God cannot sin, and therefore cannot die.
Though the inner man is born of incorruptible seed, the outer man still bears the imprint of Adam. The Apostle Paul, though regenerated, cried out:
“O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?” (Romans 7:24)
He testified to a war within:
“So then with the mind I myself serve the law of God; but with the flesh the law of sin” (Romans 7:25).
This is not contradiction—it is confirmation. The new man, born of God, “cannot sin” (1 John 3:9), but the believer still inhabits a body subject to corruption. Until the redemption of the flesh, the believer will wrestle with sin—not from the new nature, but from the old.
“Even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body” (Romans 8:23).
The Spirit has sealed us, but the body awaits transformation. Yet even in this tension, the promise stands:
“But if the Spirit of him that raised up Jesus from the dead dwell in you, he that raised up Christ from the dead shall also quicken your mortal bodies by his Spirit that dwelleth in you” (Romans 8:11).
The doctrine of the Two Seeds not only reveals origin but also destiny. It distinguishes between the incorruptible seed of God and the corruptible seed of the serpent—between the child of promise and the child of rebellion. But this distinction, while spiritual in nature, does not remain hidden. It manifests in life, behavior, and allegiance.
To be born of the incorruptible seed is to be called out of the world system—not to remain in its likeness under the banner of outreach:
“Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you” (2 Corinthians 6:17).
God's children are not camouflaged ambassadors; they are conspicuous witnesses. Light does not mingle with darkness; it exposes it. Salt that loses its savor serves no purpose:
“Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted? it is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men. Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid.” (Matthew 5:13–14).
Christ’s words in Luke 9 are not ornamental—they are foundational:
“And he said to them all, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me” (Luke 9:23, KJV).
The cross is not a metaphor for inconvenience; it is an instrument of death. The believer’s daily call is to die to self, to the flesh, to the world—and to live unto God.
Modern trends may advocate relevance through resemblance, but biblical witness flows from transformation, not imitation:
“And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind,
that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God” (Romans 12:2, KJV).
The power of the gospel is not in cultural conformity but in divine contrast. Evangelism that compromises holiness may gain a crowd but loses the commission.
“Come as you are” is the open door—but remaining unchanged is not the gospel’s end. The cross doesn’t accessorize the old man; it crucifies him. The seed of God does not merely improve—it regenerates.
If death comes by sin, and the new man cannot sin, then the new man cannot die. He is born of God, sealed by the Spirit, and kept by the power of the Father.
“And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand” (John 10:28).
Not even the believer himself can undo what God has done.
We did not save ourselves—we cannot keep ourselves saved. The same grace that birthed us now guards us. The same Spirit that quickened us now seals us. The same Father who chastens us also preserves us.
The believer’s security lies not in his strength, but in the nature of the new life he’s received: incorruptible, sinless, eternal. The old man may fall, but the new man cannot fail. The child may be chastened, but never cast away.
The New Birth creates a New Man that is incapable of sin, and death is by sin—so the New Man cannot die.
This is not presumption—it is promise. It is not arrogance—it is assurance. It is life eternal, born of God, and kept by God:
“Now unto him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy” (Jude 1:24).
Yours in Him,
Tony