Some

The Fight, the Doubter, and the Discernment to Know the Difference

Jude 1:22 | “And have mercy on some, who are doubting.” — AMP

The book of Jude is not one I hear quoted very often. At least not compared with Romans. Psalms. Proverbs. Ephesians. John. And perhaps that is partly why, when today’s Scripture appeared, I had to stop.

“And have mercy on some, who are doubting.”

Some. That was the word. Not mercy. Not even doubting. Some.

I read the sentence again because something about its construction felt almost backward to me. If someone had handed it to me to edit, I think my instinct would have been to move things around. Have mercy on those who are doubting. Cleaner. Smoother. And perhaps completely capable of making me miss what Holy Spirit wanted me to see.

Because Jude does not merely tell us what to do. He makes us distinguish whom we are looking at. Some. Which immediately raises the question: Some of whom? Are we only supposed to have mercy on some people who doubt? Which ones? And why is some sitting there before who are doubting as though Jude wants us to notice that there are different people requiring different responses?

There it was again. That little interruption Holy Spirit has been using so often lately: Notice what you notice.

So I backed up. Because a text without context becomes a pretext, thus conning us out of the truth. And if we read it wrong, we understand it wrong. If we understand it wrong, eventually we live it wrong. And once I backed up, that peculiar little word began getting larger. Because some is not merely limiting mercy. It is requiring discernment.

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Before the Some, There Is a Fight

Jude introduces himself simply: “Jude, a bond-servant of Jesus Christ, and brother of James…” — Jude 1:1 AMP Which is interesting all by itself. The New Testament identifies Jude among Yeshua’s brothers, yet Jude does not introduce himself by leveraging that relationship. Neither does James. Jude calls himself Yeshua’s servant and James’s brother.

Then he tells us he had intended to write about their common salvation. But something changed. A threat had entered the community, and Jude says he found it necessary to write: “…appealing that you fight strenuously for [the defense of] the faith which was once for all handed down to the saints…” — Jude 1:3 AMP

Fight. Strenuously. Those are not light words. I almost laughed when I read them because fighting already sounds strenuous. If we are going to throw down and put hands, that is physical. But there are fights that never involve a fist and still leave you exhausted. Mental fights. Emotional fights. Relational fights. Spiritual fights.

I know what it is to realize afterward that I allowed myself to be baited into one. Why did I give that so much of me? Why did I spend that much energy defending, explaining, replaying, answering, proving? Because sometimes the enemy does not need to defeat us if he can simply exhaust us by convincing us to fight the wrong thing.

But then I looked underneath the English. The Greek verb translated here as “fight strenuously” is epagōnizomai—ἐπαγωνίζομαι. And I stopped again. Because this particular verb appears only here in the New Testament.

There is actually a name for a word occurring only once within a body of literature: hapax legomenon—something “said once.” Now, rarity does not automatically make a word more important. Scripture is not a scavenger hunt where unusual vocabulary becomes more inspired than ordinary vocabulary. But rarity creates a kind of textual gravity for me.

When a biblical writer reaches for a word found nowhere else in the New Testament, I want to linger. Why this word? Why here? What is this word carrying that required this particular expression? Epagōnizomai is intensified language. It carries the sense of contending earnestly, struggling for something, exerting oneself in its defense.

Jude is not casual about the threat. The fight is real. Which makes what he says later even more startling. Have mercy on some. The intensity of the fight has not made Jude indiscriminate about the people standing near it. And suddenly I began to wonder if that was exactly what some was trying to teach me.

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They Crept In

Jude tells us why the defense of the faith has become necessary: “For certain people have crept in unnoticed…” — Jude 1:4 AMP

Crept. Even the verb has intent inside it. You do not creep accidentally. Creeping is movement designed not to attract attention. It is quiet. Calculated. Trying to gain access without being detected. Jude does not describe an army announcing itself at the gate. He describes infiltration.

And suddenly discernment becomes critical. Because if deception announces itself as deception, you do not need much discernment. Discernment becomes necessary precisely because something can enter looking sufficiently familiar to be permitted access.

And Jude does something fascinating from there. He reaches backward. He reminds his readers of Israel after Egypt. Rebellious heavenly beings who abandoned their proper domain. Sodom and Gomorrah. Cain. Balaam. Korah. Michael’s dispute with the devil. And then Enoch. Jude’s worldview does not flatten reality into merely human behavior. There is an ancient history of rebellion behind what he is describing.

Which made the devotional I had read immediately before this one suddenly come back to me. Completely unrelated devotional. Completely different passage. Same Holy Spirit. Ephesians 6.

“Put on the full armor of God…so that you may be able to [successfully] stand up against all the schemes and the strategies and the deceits of the devil. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood…” — Ephesians 6:11–12 AMP

Wait. Jude tells us: Fight strenuously. Paul tells us: Know what you are fighting. Or perhaps more importantly: Know what you are not. Flesh and blood.

And suddenly the convergence became much more precise. Ephesians tells us what the fight is not against. Jude teaches us why we had better know the difference. Because if the battle is real but flesh and blood are not ultimately the enemy, then discernment is not optional equipment in spiritual warfare. It is what keeps us from aiming at the wrong thing.

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Some

And suddenly that peculiar little word looked enormous. Some.

Jude has spent almost an entire letter telling us how serious the threat is. He has told us to contend with a word so forceful that this particular verb appears nowhere else in the New Testament. He has exposed infiltration. Distortion. Rebellion. Judgment. An unseen conflict older than the people presently standing in front of him.

And then: “And have mercy on some, who are doubting.”

Why? I went underneath the English again. The Greek reads: kai hous men eleate diakrinomenous. The wording in this portion of Jude has some ancient manuscript variation, which helps explain why English translations do not all render verses 22–23 identically. But the reading reflected in the AMP presents distinctions among people requiring different responses.

And that is what suddenly opened the verse for me. Not everyone affected by deception is the deceiver. Someone can be affected by the battle without being the enemy. Someone can be confused without being corrupt. Someone can be wavering without having defected. Someone can need truth without needing to be treated like the thing truth is fighting.

Some is the grammatical evidence of discernment.

Jude is teaching us to distinguish. And when I looked back over the letter, I realized he has been doing it all along. He distinguishes the faith once delivered from the distortion that crept in. He distinguishes belonging from rebellion. He distinguishes visible human activity from an older unseen conflict. He distinguishes what believers are to build within themselves from what they are to resist around them. And then, at the end, he distinguishes people.

Some need mercy. Others need rescuing. Still others require mercy mingled with serious caution. The response changes because the condition is different. Discernment determines the response. Maybe some was never an awkward qualifier. Maybe some is carrying the architecture of the entire letter.

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Do Not Cross-Examine the Doubter

Maybe this is why the language caught me so deeply. I have been drawn toward the law and the language of defense since I was eight years old. I have always had an instinct to stand beside the person who does not feel like they have a voice. The bullied. The mistreated. The person being treated unjustly. And my mind naturally listens not only to what someone says but for what sits underneath what they are saying.

So when Jude says: fight strenuously for the defense of the faith my attention goes immediately to defense. Because a good defense does not enter a courtroom attacking everyone. It identifies the accusation. Examines the evidence. Distinguishes adversary from witness. Understands who is attacking the truth and who has simply become confused by what they heard.

You do not cross-examine the person who needs rescuing as though they are the prosecutor.

Yet I wonder how often we have done exactly that spiritually. How often have we mistaken questions for rebellion? Wavering for wickedness? Confusion for corruption? How often have we become so determined to defend the truth that we wounded the very person the truth was meant to reach?

And then another Scripture came to mind: “So faith comes from hearing [what is told], and what is heard comes by the [preaching of the] message concerning Christ.” — Romans 10:17 AMP

Faith comes by hearing. Which means ears are contested territory. If faith can enter through hearing truth, confusion can enter through hearing distortion. And the person standing in front of me may not have authored what destabilized them. They may simply have heard it.

That changes how I approach them. I defend the truth. But I have mercy on the person trying to find their footing inside it.

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Keep Yourselves in the Love of God

And perhaps this is why Jude gives another instruction before he ever reaches the doubter. After all of the warnings, all of the rebellion, all of the deception, he turns toward the believers themselves: “But you, beloved, build yourselves up on [the foundation of] your most holy faith…pray in the Holy Spirit, and keep yourselves in the love of God…” — Jude 1:20–21 AMP

That feels important. Jude does not tell them to become fascinated with darkness. He tells them to become fortified in God. Build yourselves. Pray in Holy Spirit. Keep yourselves in the love of God.

Because perhaps the condition of my own heart determines whether I can discern the battle without becoming consumed by it. And I know how easy that is. When something feels unjust, deceptive, manipulative, or simply wrong, there is a temptation to keep staring at it until the thing I am fighting occupies more of my attention than the God I am standing with.

Jude says no. Know what has crept in. Recognize the threat. Defend the faith. But keep yourself in the love of God. Maybe because you are about to encounter someone who has been affected by what crept in. And if you have not remained in love, you may mistake them for it.

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Greater Is He

As I write this, Holy Spirit reminds me: “…He who is in you is greater than he (Satan) who is in the world.” — 1 John 4:4 AMP

We say jokingly about animals or insects, They are more afraid of you than you are of them. And I always think, No. I promise you, that is absolutely not true.Especially if it buzzes. A bee or wasp starts flying near me and all you are going to see is my back, the soles of my feet, and dust suspended in the place where I used to be. I am gone.

But all joking aside, I wonder if spiritually we sometimes live as though darkness possesses an authority Scripture never gave it. We become intimidated by the fight and forget Who inhabits us. We know the saying: We do not fight for victory. We fight from victory. But a fight is still a fight.

Maybe fighting from victory changes how we fight. We do not need panic. We do not need indiscriminate aggression. We do not need to turn every disagreement into warfare. We can discern. We can stand. We can expose what is false without becoming consumed by it. We can recognize darkness without becoming fascinated by darkness. We can defend truth without losing love.

Because: “He who is in you is greater than he who is in the world.” And perhaps someone secure in that truth does not need to make an enemy out of everyone who doubts.

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Maybe Mercy Is Part of the Warfare

That may be what I had not seen when I first read the verse. I thought somewas interrupting the sentence. Now I think it was opening it.

Because what if mercy is not what we do after spiritual warfare is finished? What if mercy is one of the ways the Kingdom fights?

The enemy traffics in accusation. Mercy refuses to become an accuser. The enemy traffics in deception. Mercy makes room for truth to be heard without humiliation. The enemy wants isolation. Mercy moves toward the person who is wavering. The enemy would love to convince someone that their questions have disqualified them from belonging. Mercy says: Come closer. Let’s look at this together.

That does not weaken the defense of the faith. It demonstrates confidence in it. Truth does not need me to become cruel in order to prove that it is true.

And maybe that is why Jude can use some of the strongest combat language in the New Testament and still bring us here. Fight strenuously. Keep yourself in the love of God. Have mercy on some. Those are not contradictory instructions. They are instructions that require us to know what we are looking at.

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Know What You Are Looking At

Maybe this is what mature spiritual warfare looks like. Not merely knowing how to fight. Knowing what deserves the fight. Knowing what needs to be resisted. What needs to be exposed. What needs to be confronted. What needs to be rescued. And who needs mercy.

Because the enemy would love to convince us that everyone standing in the smoke is responsible for starting the fire. Jude will not let us make that mistake.

And perhaps that is why some stopped me this morning. One peculiar little word forced me backward through an entire letter and somehow landed me in Ephesians wearing armor.

Paul says: Our struggle is not against flesh and blood. Jude says: Fight strenuously for the defense of the faith. Paul says: Stand against the schemes of the devil. Jude says: Certain people have crept in unnoticed.Paul says: Put on the armor. Jude says: Build yourselves up. Pray in Holy Spirit. Keep yourselves in the love of God. And then Jude looks toward the person who is wavering and says: Have mercy.

Do you see it? The armor is not permission to attack everybody. The armor is what allows us to remain standing long enough to discern who actually needs fighting and who needs rescuing.

Maybe the enemy would love nothing more than to get believers so angry about deception that we begin attacking the deceived. Then he gets two victories for the price of one. He introduces the lie. Then convinces the people carrying truth to mishandle the person wounded by it.

No. Jude will not let us do that.

And maybe Holy Spirit is asking us a different question today than the one we expected: Not merely: Are you willing to fight for the faith? But: Can you discern what you are looking at well enough to know how to respond?

Is this a lie that needs exposing? A scheme that needs resisting? A boundary that needs establishing? A person who needs rescuing? A doubter who needs mercy? Or have I become so exhausted by fighting that everyone standing in front of me has begun to look like an opponent?

Because perhaps mature spiritual warfare is not demonstrated by how aggressively we fight. Perhaps it is demonstrated by how accurately we identify the enemy.

The faith is worth fighting for. Absolutely. Jude uses a word found nowhere else in the New Testament to tell us so. But perhaps Holy Spirit wanted me to notice another peculiar little word this morning because He wanted me to understand something about the people standing inside that fight.

Some.

Some are not the enemy. Some are doubting. Some are wavering. Some have heard something that destabilized what they once knew. Some may be standing in the smoke of a battle they did not start. And perhaps one of the greatest evidences that we understand spiritual warfare is that we no longer need to make an enemy out of everyone affected by it.

We know where to aim. We know what to defend. We know when to stand. And we know when the person standing in front of us does not need another fighter. They need mercy.

The faith is worth fighting for.

And sometimes the person doubting in front of us is exactly who we are fighting for.

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I HEAR THE SPIRIT SAY…

“Beloved, not everyone standing in the smoke started the fire.

I want you to learn the difference.

You have asked Me for discernment, and sometimes you have thought discernment meant seeing what was wrong more quickly. But discernment is deeper than detection.

Discernment knows what it is looking at.

It knows the difference between rebellion and confusion. Between the one planting the lie and the one who heard it. Between the one seeking access to distort and the one whose footing became unstable because distortion reached them.

Do not call everyone standing near the battle your enemy.

And do not spend the strength I gave you fighting someone I sent you to help.

You have done that before, beloved. You have been baited into conversations that left you exhausted. You have replayed words long after the conversation ended. You have tried to make people understand what I never assigned you to explain.

Come closer.

Not every fight deserves you.

The enemy is perfectly willing to occupy your attention with a battle you were never assigned if it keeps you too exhausted to stand where I actually placed you.

So when someone stands before you doubting, do not be so quick to decide what their doubt means.

Listen beneath it.

Some questions are rebellion dressed as curiosity. But some questions are pain trying to find language. Some doubt grew in disappointment. Some began when someone who carried My name represented Me poorly.

And some people are not walking away from Me at all.

They are trying to find Me through what has been said about Me.

Do not cross-examine them.

Sit beside them.

You do not have to compromise truth to make room for a question. I am not frightened by questions, and you do not have to be either.

Bring truth with you. Bring discernment. Bring wisdom.

But bring mercy too.

Because you do not know every road that brought someone to the place where you found them. You do not know every voice they heard along the way. You do not know what happened before their certainty became a question.

So ask Me:

“Holy Spirit, what am I looking at?”

I will show you.

And when I do, trust what I show you.

There are moments to speak. Moments to stand. Moments to walk away. And moments when the holiest thing you can do is refuse to make an enemy out of someone I am still drawing.

Beloved, your armor was never given to you so that you could become dangerous to people.

I clothed you so that what comes against you does not have to become what comes through you.

You can fight without becoming the fight.”