Early in the second half of the 1st century AD, Jude, a believing half-brother of Jesus, eagerly began to write a warm, edifying letter to believers about “our common salvation” (Jude 3). What a joy it is to rehearse the glories of our covenant God (Psalm 34:1–3; 71:15–18) and build up one another (Col. 3:16; 1 Thess. 5:11; Heb. 3:13) with the gospel of God, about Christ, according to Scripture, for the nations, unto the obedience of faith, for the sake of the Name (Rom. 1:1–6).
But his plans were interrupted. “Certain people” had “crept in unnoticed,” who posed a clear and present danger to the church (v. 4). Jude’s eager intent, then, yielded to pastoral necessity. He was “compelled” to write a different letter, to exhort them “to contend for the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints” (v. 3).
The Verb Matters
“Contend” (from epagōnizomai) appears only here in the New Testament, an intensified form of the verb used elsewhere for athletic and spiritual struggle (1 Cor. 9:25; 1 Tim. 6:12). It calls believers to a strenuous, earnest, and persevering defense of the faith — the same task Paul describes as guarding “the good deposit entrusted” to us (1 Tim. 6:20; 2 Tim. 1:14). In practice, this “contending” takes the form of reasoning, persuading, refuting, resisting, and even sacrificing. But “contending” is not “cheap posturing”; it’s “costly exertion.”
This distinction matters because much of what passes for “contending” today is neither earnest nor effortful, and often not biblical. It is largely reactive. Just post the “hot take.” Fire off a tweet. Jump on the outrage train. Pile up prooftexts. Exaggerate, denigrate, castigate, obfuscate. To rephrase James, many are “slow to hear, quick to speak, quick to anger” (James 1:19). None of it is “contending.” Contending requires study, patience, courage, wisdom and grace — sustained over years, not minutes. It’s the discipline of an athlete, not the reflex of a mob.
The Faith Is Fixed
The reason “contending” is crucial is because “the faith” is fixed. It’s a “deposit” not a draft, an inheritance not an invention, a trust not a trend. It has been “once for all delivered to the saints.” We don’t refine, revise, reimagine, or rein it in. We receive it and then “contend” for it.
This cuts two ways: (1) against those who add to the faith, layering novelty on top of Scripture and calling it fresh revelation; and (2) against those who subtract from the faith, trimming hard doctrines to fit a more comfortable age. Either of these moves treats the faith as open to renegotiation. Jude argues otherwise. Our task is preservation, not innovation. Paul says as much: Even an apostle or an angel who preaches a different gospel is accursed (Gal. 1:6–9).
But we live in an age that treats a received body of belief with suspicion by default. It’s assumed that old doctrines need updates, uncomfortable teachings are optional and discardable, personal feelings outrank propositional truth, and certainty is little more than biased arrogance. What are we to do? Jude’s exhortation stands. Don’t modernize, improvise, compromise, trivialize, or sanitize “the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints.” Rather, contend earnestly for it!
Contending Is Everyone’s Job
This work is not just a misty realm for seminary professors and apologists. True, the charge to guard the flock falls on elders by definition. It’s embedded in the job description, not appended to it as a specialty (Acts 20:17–35). A faithful pastor is not silent when the wolves come. But notice, Jude is addressing all “those who are called, beloved in God the Father and kept for Jesus Christ” (v. 1). Paul tells the whole congregation in Philippi to stand “firm in one spirit, with one mind striving side by side for the faith of the gospel” (Phil. 1:27). The Bereans not only “received the word with all eagerness,” but were also “examining the Scriptures daily to see if these things were so” (Acts 17:11). So, why don’t we?
The Obstacles Are Real
Conflict aversion is part of the problem. Nobody enjoys being called divisive. Our culture increasingly treats truth claims themselves as a form of violence, which makes contending for the faith feel socially costly before a word is even spoken. Fear of becoming a contentious curmudgeon is another part of it. But in any case, many choose silence — especially when the error comes from a friend, a family member, or a favorite author. Others retreat into vague positivity, call it unity, and settle for “peace at any price.” Of course, silence is not the only danger. The flesh can just as easily overcorrect, trading passivity for pugnacity and calling it courage. The way ahead avoids both ditches.
Contend to Rescue
The flesh finds a way to fail on either side of the “contending” road. It’s possible to be faithfully orthodox and yet safely silent, in which case we are disobedient. Contending for the faith is not an exercise in neutrality, avoidance, or changing the subject and calling it grace. It’s also possible to be doctrinally precise and yet personally vicious — and if that happens, we have failed the very exhortation we think we are obeying. Contending for the faith is not an exercise in personal vindication, tribal conquest, settling a score, or out-debating your opponent and driving him shamefaced from the stage.
Paul gives us the corrective in 2 Timothy 2:24–26: “The Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting his opponents with gentleness.” To what end? That “God may perhaps grant them repentance leading to a knowledge of the truth, and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil.”
Silence rescues no one. Neither does fighting to humiliate an opponent. Contending is an engagement to rescue a soul. Notice that Jude’s letter ends with mercy. “Have mercy on those who waver; save others by snatching them from the fire; have mercy on others but with fear, hating even the garment defiled by the flesh” (vv. 22–23). Rescue is what contending is for.
Sweet church, the faith has been delivered to us once and for all. It was not ours to begin with, and it’s never been ours to alter or ignore. Guard it. Contend for it earnestly. And do it all with the glorious aim Jude had in view from the start — not winning arguments or making a name but rescuing others from the fire.
“Now to him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of his glory with great joy, to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen” (vv. 24– 25).
— B. Spencer Haygood serves as a police chaplain after retiring from decades of military service, pastoral ministry, and higher education.
