Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day.

And Happy New Year—today is January 1, 2026! As we step into a new year of studying God's Word, let's begin by asking Him to renew our courage and conviction.

Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video.

Our text today is Judges 19:24-26.

"Behold, here are my virgin daughter and his concubine; let me bring them out now. Violate them and do with them what seems good to you, but against this man do not do this outrageous thing." But the men would not listen to him. So the man seized his concubine and made her go out to them. And they knew her and abused her all night until the morning. And as the dawn began to break, they let her go. And as morning appeared, the woman came and fell down at the door of the man's house where her master was, until it was light." — Judges 19:24-26

The horror of this passage is hard to read. The Levite—a man we might call a pastor today—shows no concern for his "girlfriend". He once pursued her, but not out of love—out of pride and control. When danger came, he threw her to the mob to save himself and then slept through the night while she suffered. The "pastor" slept through sin and suffering, proving that apathy is just as dangerous as outright evil.

The old man was no better, offering his own daughter to protect his reputation. Both men reflected a world that had lost God's heart—where leadership was selfish, morality was twisted, and compassion had collapsed.

We see this same crisis today. Some pulpits have gone silent while the culture burns. Many churches have grown comfortable, preaching peace while ignoring perversion. Leaders fear cancelation more than conviction, and believers trade boldness for belonging. It's the same sickness—call it the "Levite spirit"—that values comfort over courage and self-preservation over sacrifice.

When those called to lead stop leading, darkness fills the void. When shepherds sleep, the sheep scatter.

This is why we must awaken. Apathy may look harmless, but it's not. It destroys us, the church, the culture, and the innocent. The Church must rise again—not in outrage, but in obedience. We must stand for life, truth, and purity before compromise becomes collapse.

Now is the time to take courage. To speak the truth. To defend the innocent. To reject passive faith and rise up in active conviction. And as we step into a new year, let this be our spiritual reset. The world may celebrate resolutions, but we resolve to stand for righteousness, to begin this year with conviction that does not waver and courage that does not fade.

ASK THIS:

1. Who in your life is suffering because of someone's silence?
2. Where have you chosen comfort over courage?
3. What fears keep you from standing up for what's right?
4. How can you defend the vulnerable in your circle this week?

DO THIS:

• Identify one injustice or moral issue you've ignored—pray and take one small stand this week.
• Talk to your family about courage—teach them that silence is never neutral.
• Practice boldness in small things so you'll be ready for big ones.

PRAY THIS:

Lord, wake me up from complacency. Give me courage to stand for the innocent and to speak truth when it costs me. Let my faith be marked by conviction, not convenience. Amen.

PLAY THIS:

"Take Courage."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day.

Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video.

Our text today is Judges 19:16-23.

"And behold, an old man was coming from his work in the field at evening. The man was from the hill country of Ephraim, and he was sojourning in Gibeah. The men of the place were Benjaminites. And he lifted up his eyes and saw the traveler in the open square of the city. And the old man said, 'Where are you going, and where do you come from?' He said to him, 'We are passing from Bethlehem in Judah to the remote parts of the hill country of Ephraim, from which I come. I went to Bethlehem in Judah, and I am going to the house of the Lord, but no one has taken me into his house. We have straw and feed for our donkeys, with bread and wine for me and your female servant and the young man with your servants. There is no lack of anything.' And the old man said, 'Peace be to you; I will care for all your wants; only, do not spend the night in the square.' So he brought him into his house and gave the donkeys feed. And they washed their feet, and ate and drank. As they were making their hearts merry, behold, the men of the city, worthless fellows, surrounded the house, beating on the door. And they said to the old man, the master of the house, "Bring out the man who came into your house, that we may know him." And the man, the master of the house, went out to them and said to them, "No, my brothers, do not act so wickedly; since this man has come into my house, do not do this vile thing. " — Judges 19:16-23

This passage offers a flicker of hope—an old man who shows compassion to strangers when no one else would. But even here, courage is mixed with compromise. He welcomes them in, yet his warning is chilling: "Only, do not spend the night in the square." The city of Gibeah, once belonging to God's people, has become so corrupt that hospitality has turned to hostility.

The tragedy of Gibeah isn't just the wickedness of its men—it's the silence of its good ones. Evil thrives when the faithful grow fearful, when believers retreat instead of resist. The old man does what's comfortable, not what's courageous. He shelters the Levite, but he never confronts the culture.

This same paralysis infects our world today. We see evil advancing—violence, perversion, confusion, and godlessness—but too often, we stay quiet. We fear rejection more than judgment, conflict more than compromise. We've become polite in the face of sin.

But our silence in this time is not neutrality—it's surrender. When good men stay silent, evil speaks louder. When the righteous sit back, the wicked will take over.

God is still calling his people to stand—to speak truth even when it costs, to show courage even when it's unpopular, to defend righteousness even when the world mocks.

Don't just be kind—be courageous. Have courageous confrontations. Because courage changes the course of a nation. Gibeah would one day rise again under Saul as Israel's first capital—a reminder that when one good man steps up to lead with conviction, God can redeem even the darkest places.

ASK THIS:

1. Where are you choosing comfort over courage?
2. What sin in your culture or circle have you been silent about?
3. How can you confront evil with both truth and grace?
4. What would bold obedience look like for you today?

DO THIS:

• Replace fearful silence with faithful action—pray, post, or stand for righteousness where others won't.
• Lead by example in your home: confront sin lovingly, not passively.

PRAY THIS:

Lord, give me the courage to speak when it's easier to stay silent. Help me confront evil with both conviction and compassion. Let my words and actions bring light where darkness reigns. Amen.

PLAY THIS:

"Stand In Your Love."

Welcome to The Daily, where we study the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, every day.

Read more about Project23 and partner with us as we teach every verse of the Bible on video.

Our text today is Judges 19:10-15.

This story forces us to look beyond names and appearances. Israel still carries God's name, but their hearts are far from Him. It's the same challenge for us today—to be a people whose lives reflect the heart of the God we proclaim.

"But the man would not spend the night; he rose up and departed and arrived opposite Jebus (that is, Jerusalem). He had with him a couple of saddled donkeys, and his concubine was with him. When they were near Jebus, the day was nearly over, and the servant said to his master, 'Come now, let us turn aside to this city of the Jebusites and spend the night in it.' And his master said to him, 'We will not turn aside into the city of foreigners, who do not belong to the people of Israel; but we will pass on to Gibeah.' And he said to his servant, 'Come and let us draw near to one of these places and spend the night at Gibeah or at Ramah.' So they passed on and went their way. And the sun went down on them near Gibeah, which belongs to Benjamin. And they turned aside there, to go in and spend the night in Gibeah. And he went in and sat down in the open square of the city, for no one took them into his house to spend the night." — Judges 19:10-15

The Levite refuses to stay in Jebus—a pagan city—because he assumes it's unsafe. Instead, he chooses Gibeah, a city of Israelites, his own people. Surely, among believers, he'll find refuge and righteousness. But he doesn't. He sits in the open square, and no one takes him in.

This is more than a travel story. It's a tragedy of misplaced trust. Gibeah should have been a beacon of hospitality and faithfulness. Instead, it's a spiritual wasteland—Israelite in name but pagan in practice.

We see the same pattern today. Many cities, schools, and even churches bear names that sound holy—"Trinity," "Grace," "Bethlehem"—yet they reflect none of the God they claim to honor. Their doors are open, but their hearts are closed. Their signs declare faith, but their culture denies it.

And if we're honest, it's not just the cities—it's us. Too many believers bear Christ's name but live as practical atheists. We talk about faith, but we don't depend on it. We proclaim grace, but we don't extend it. We wear crosses but carry none of their weight.

Like Gibeah, we've confused proximity to truth with obedience to it. And that deception is deadly.

It's not enough to claim the name of Jesus; our lives must reveal His nature. Our words, our choices, our homes, and our churches should bear the evidence of His transforming power. The world doesn't need more people who simply bear God's name—it needs a people who embody His heart. Authentic believers who live what they profess, reflect His character, and restore His reputation in a watching world.

You may live in a city with a Christian name, attend a church with a cross on its roof, or post Bible verses online—but the real question is: Can anyone tell that Christ lives in you?

ASK THIS:

1. Where are you relying on reputation instead of righteousness?
2. Does your life reflect the name of Jesus or the nature of the world?
3. How can you model true hospitality, generosity, or holiness this week?
4. What's one step you can take to live as an authentic believer today?

DO THIS:

• Examine one area of your life where your actions don't align with your beliefs.
• Let your name—and your home—reflect the character of the God you claim to follow.

PRAY THIS:

Lord, make me more than a name-bearer. Let my faith be real, my actions be righteous, and my home be open. Keep me from the hypocrisy of hollow religion, and make me a living witness of Your truth. Amen.

PLAY THIS:

"Evidence."