Contending for the Faith: The Faith for Which We Contend

The book of Jude is brief—just 25 verses—but it carries weight beyond its size. Though Jude himself is a somewhat familiar figure to many, we understand him to be the youngest half-brother of Jesus and the brother of James, leader of the Jerusalem church. Despite the brevity of his letter, Jude speaks with clarity, urgency, and deep concern for the integrity of the Christian faith.

He opens with a theologically rich greeting: “Jude, a servant of Jesus Christ and brother of James, to those who are called, beloved in God the Father and kept for Jesus Christ: May mercy, peace, and love be multiplied to you” (vv. 1–2).

This salutation reminds us of the profound identity we hold as Christians: called by God, beloved in his sight, and securely kept for Jesus Christ.

Jude originally intended to write about the salvation believers share in Christ but was forced by reasons external to himself to alter his focus. He explains: “Beloved, although I was very eager to write to you about our common salvation, I found it necessary to write appealing to you to contend for the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints” (v. 3). His intent was interrupted by a more pressing concern. Something threatened the church from within, forcing him to caution rather than celebrate.

Jude recognised that certain individuals had surreptitiously infiltrated the church. They had “crept in unnoticed who long ago were designated for this condemnation, ungodly people, who pervert the grace of our God into sensuality and deny our only Master and Lord, Jesus Christ” (v. 4). This was not a distant threat or an external cultural conflict; it was an internal crisis. Like a mole in an intelligence agency, these individuals were undermining the faith from within, presenting themselves as believers while leading others astray.

Jude does not name the false teachers, but he makes the nature of the threatening influence clear. The infiltrators were distorting the very grace of God, turning it into an excuse for immoral behaviour. They talked like Christians, but their lives denied the reality of Christ’s lordship.

This distortion was not merely theological but practical. Jude was not only concerned with what they taught, but also with how they lived. The grace of God, they claimed, gave them license to follow their passions—particularly sensuality. But in doing so, they denied Christ’s authority.

This was not a minor doctrinal disagreement—it was a foundational betrayal. Jude reminds us that God’s grace does not give license to sin, but power to resist temptation. Paul echoes this: “For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age” (Titus 2:11–12).

Grace is not permissiveness. It is the very thing that trains us to walk in holiness.

Jude’s response to this internal threat is a clear call to action: Contend for the faith. The Greek word used for “contend” implies strenuous effort, like an athlete exerting himself in competition. This faith, writes Jude, was “once for all delivered to the saints.” It is not to be reinvented or diluted; it is a sacred trust handed down and worthy of our defence.

We are not merely to preserve doctrine in our heads but to live out the truth of the gospel with integrity, in contrast to those who twist it. Jude’s call to contend is not for pastors or theologians alone—it is for every believer, because every believer is vulnerable to the temptation to turn from Christ and misuse the grace of God.

We can imagine how Jude’s readers might have reacted. Suspicion likely surged. Who were these hidden influencers? Everyone was perhaps glancing around, wondering who was suspect. Perhaps you have experienced something similar, where those you once trusted revealed themselves to be divisive, manipulative, or hypocritical.

This is not a modern phenomenon. The struggles we face today were present from the church’s earliest days. And that is precisely why Jude’s letter is timeless. It addresses the ever-present risk of drifting from the gospel and the critical need to guard it—together.

The faith Jude calls us to contend for is not a vague set of spiritual ideas. It is the “the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints” (v. 3). It is, in other words, the gospel—the good news of Jesus Christ, crucified and risen, who offers grace not as indulgence but as transformation.

We are “called, beloved in God the Father and kept for Jesus Christ” (v. 1). That identity shapes our lives. It demands more than intellectual agreement—it calls for devotion, obedience, and perseverance.

To contend for the faith is to uphold the truth with our lips and our lives. It is to resist the creeping compromise of those who distort grace and deny the lordship of Christ. It is to walk in the light, as he is in the light.

Jude will go on to show the urgency to contend for the faith, and then the method of and the power for contending for the faith. Though his letter begins with a dire warning, it concludes with confident hope. He ends with one of the most beautiful doxologies in Scripture:

We do not contend in our own strength. The very God who called us can keep us. And so, with his grace, we strive to remain faithful—not drifting, not compromising, but standing firm in the faith once for all delivered to the saints.

The need to contend for the faith is plain. I pray that we will all, in our churches, commit to earnestly contend for the faith once delivered to the saints.