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The Fourth in the fire is Jesus.
In the summer of 1977, I sat in a theater and watched the opening crawl of Star Wars light up the screen: "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…" And like millions of others, I was hooked. The Force. The fight. The redemptive arcs. The rebellion against the Empire. I've loved every film and every show since—well, some more than others. And like many fans, I smile every time May 4th rolls around.
"May the Fourth be with you." It's a fun pun; a lighthearted nod to a story we love. And, it resonates with many Christians as an echo of the ancient liturgy. But there's more to it for me today. Because when you dig into the metanarrative of Star Wars, you find that it is full of fire—both literal and symbolic.
Anakin Skywalker burned on the slopes of Mustafar—consumed by his choices, abandoned by the one who loved him. The Jedi Temple fell in flame during Order 66. Luke returned home to a smoking homestead and the charred remains of the only family he'd ever known. Rebellions rise in flame. Empires fall in fire. What begins with promise often ends in ashes.
In Star Wars, fire signifies loss. Collapse. Turning points. But you don't have to travel to a galaxy far, far away to feel that kind of heat because the Bible is full of fire, too.
God doesn't avoid fire—he works through it.
- He led hiss people through the wilderness by a pillar of fire (Ex. 13:21).
- He sent fire from heaven to consume Elijah’s sacrifice (1 Kings 18:38).
- He met Moses in a bush that burned without burning up (Ex. 3:2).
- He descended on Sinai in flame (Ex. 19:18).
- The Psalms speak of fire as a test (Ps. 66:10).
- The prophets speak of it as refining (Mal. 3:2-3).
- Paul says that everything we build will be revealed by fire (1 Cor. 3:13).
God operates through means—and sometimes, those means burn. We walk through fire too:
- The fire of grief.
- The fire of shame.
- The fire of betrayal—our own and others’.
- The fire of regret that smolders under the surface.
You've felt the heat. You've stood in the smoke. You've wondered if anyone sees you in it—if God is there or if you're on your own. So today—on May the Fourth—I want to take you into the fire. Not to test you. Not to scare you. But to ask: What kind of fire are you in? And who will meet you there? Let's start with Daniel 3. In Babylon, King Nebuchadnezzar built a golden statue—ninety feet tall—and commanded that when the music played, everyone bow down. And everyone did. Everyone, except three. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego stood—not because they were strong, but because their God was worthy. The king gave them one last chance to bow or be thrown into a furnace stoked seven times hotter than normal.
That's not faith in an outcome. That’s faith in God no matter the outcome.
Their response? “Our God is able to deliver us… but even if He doesn’t, we still won’t bow.” That's not faith in an outcome. That’s faith in God no matter the outcome. So they were bound and thrown in. But moments later, the king stood up and stared into the fire. "Didn't we throw three men into the furnace?" he asked. "But I see four—walking in the fire, unbound and unharmed. And the fourth looks like a son of the gods" (Dan. 3:24–25). That's all we're told—for now. Let's leave that scene smoldering and turn to another fire.
It's late. Jesus has been arrested. Peter is standing in the courtyard of the high priest. And there's a charcoal fire burning. The kind that clings to your clothes and lingers in your memory. A servant girl looks at him and says, "You were with him." Peter replies, "I don't know what you're talking about." Someone else speaks up, "You're one of them." "No, I'm not." A third time: “Surely you were with him." "I don't know the man.” And then the rooster crows. Jesus turns and looks at Peter. Peter remembers, and Peter weeps (Luke 22:54–62).
That fire didn't warm him. It exposed him. That fire burned with shame.
Now, fast forward a few days. A lot has happened. The cross has come and gone. The tomb is empty. Peter—still carrying the weight of his failure—is out fishing again.
And Jesus appears on the shore. And once again… there's a fire. A charcoal fire.
This time, there are no accusations. Just breakfast. And silence. And then:
"Simon, do you love me?"
"Yes, Lord, you know I love you."
"Feed my sheep." (John 21:9–19)
Three times, Jesus asks. Three times, Peter answers. Three denials. Three restorations. This is not accidental. This is intentional fire—not to punish, but to heal and restore. But we still haven't answered the question from Daniel 3: Who was the Fourth?
The Bible never names him directly. The king just says, “He looks like a son of the gods." But we know who walks in fire. We know who restores failures, and restores relationships. We know who doesn't avoid heat or shame or death—but walks straight into it.
The Fourth in the fire is Jesus.
Not a Force. A person.
Not an idea. A Savior.
The same One who stood in the furnace of Babylon stood beside Peter after his worst failure. He then stood with sustenance on the shore. And he stands with you too.
You who have bowed to the idols of control or comfort.
You who have denied him—if not with your words, then with your silence, your avoidance, your compromise.
You who live with the fire of guilt, the heat of consequence, the ashes of something you've lost or broken.
But you are not alone in the fire.
The Fourth doesn't just show up in your fire—he takes your place in it.
He doesn't just stand with you—he sets you free.
His presence isn't just comforting—it's atoning.
Jesus Christ entered the flames of judgment in your place. He bore the fire of wrath that should have consumed you. He took on the punishment your sin deserves, and in return, he gives you righteousness, forgiveness, and freedom.
Because of the Fourth, you are forgiven.
Because of the Fourth, you are free.
Because of the Fourth, you will not be burned.
- "When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned…" (Isa. 43:2)
- "I am with you always, to the very end of the age." (Matt. 28:20)
- "Nothing… will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Rom. 8:39)
So may the Fourth be with you.
Not the Force.
The Fourth.
The fire-walker.
The shame-healer.
The sin-bearer.
The Christ.
He was with the three in Babylon.
He was with Peter at two different fires.
And he is with you—right now, in your fires.
Not just to comfort you. To save you.
Not just to reassure you. To redeem you.
Not just to stand beside you. To stand in your place.
So whatever furnace you're in…
Whatever fire is licking at your feet…
You are not alone.
The Fourth is with you.
And because of him—you are forgiven.
Because of him—you are free.
Because of him—you will not be burned.
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