The Strait of Hormuz is on fire. The headlines look prophetic. But the believer's calling has not changed — watch, pray, and walk in the light while it is still day.
Every generation that has loved Christ has wondered if it would be the generation that saw Him return. Ours is no different. The difference, in 2026, is that the wondering has acquired some unusually convincing footnotes. Iran's nuclear program. The Strait of Hormuz, where one fifth of the world's oil flows, threatened by missile strikes and naval skirmishes. Israel surrounded by adversaries who measure their patience in decades, not weeks. Antisemitism rising in cities that swore it never would. A culture that has misplaced its capacity to recognize evil when it is staring it in the face.
And the calendar reads 2026.
Let me say plainly: I do not know when Christ returns. Neither do you. Neither did Jesus, in His humanity — He told us so. "But of that day or that hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father" (Mark 13:32). The believer who claims certainty about the date has wandered out from under the Master's instruction. The believer who refuses to read the times at all has wandered away from a different instruction.
Two equal and opposite errors
The first error is date-setting. We have a long, sad history of it. Every few years some teacher decides that the math finally works, the dreams have lined up, the comet is right, and the trumpet must sound. The date passes. The teacher quietly moves on. The world watches and laughs. The name of Christ is dragged through the wreckage.
The second error is sleep. Jesus warned about it more than He warned about date-setting. "Watch therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming" (Matthew 24:42). The unwatchful servant of Matthew 24 — the one who says in his heart "my master is delayed" — does not get pity in the parable. He gets cut into pieces.
Date-setters embarrass the church. Sleepers shame her. Both fail in the same way: they stop watching. The date-setter stops watching because he thinks he already knows. The sleeper stops watching because he thinks it doesn't matter.
What watchfulness actually looks like
Read the news. But read your Bible first. Pray for Israel. Pray for the persecuted church. Pray for the lost — including the one in your own household, your own office, your own family. Walk in obedience today as if it were your last day, and plant trees as if you had thirty more years.
The watchman in the Old Testament had a boring job. Most days, nothing happened. The horizon was empty. The horn stayed on his hip. But on the day the army came, his vigilance was the difference between a city that lived and a city that died. He was not paid to be exciting. He was paid to be there when it mattered.
That is the believer's posture in 2026. Not panicked. Not asleep. Watching.
The headline that has not changed
The world's headlines change. The believer's headline has not. For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16). Whatever 2026 holds — and whatever 2027 and 2028 hold, if the Lord tarries — the gospel is still the gospel. Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.
Until He does, we have work to do. Lift up your eyes to the horizon. Read the times. Then go down into the city and tell someone about Jesus.
Maranatha. Even so, come, Lord Jesus.