1 Corinthians 1:1-9

When plans are frustrated or life just seems to fall apart in some way, people often wonder, Has God deserted me? Why hasn’t He answered my prayers? The Bible offers encouragement for such times by assuring us of the Father’s faithfulness: “Know therefore that the Lord your God, He is God, the faithful God, who keeps His covenant and His lovingkindness to a thousandth generation with those who love Him and keep His commandments” (Deut 7:9).

Five attributes of God make this possible. First, He is omniscient, which means He knows everything, including our every need, thought, frailty, desire, and life situation in the past, present, and future. Next, the Lord is omnipotent, or all-powerful, so nothing is too hard for Him (Jer. 32:17). Then, He is omnipresent–since He exists everywhere at once, He is never beyond reach.

In addition, our heavenly Father cannot lie. Everything that He says is true and reliable. And lastly, God is unchanging. Our circumstances and the world around us may seem to be in a constant state of flux, and the Lord may even modify the way He chooses to interact with mankind in different generations. But His character is always the same. So when Scripture tells us that God is faithful, we can rest confidently upon that promise.

Circumstances can be painful. But even when situations seem overwhelming, believers can trust that our sovereign Lord knows all, is in control, and lovingly works everything for His children’s good. We can rest confidently knowing that the unchanging God of all creation is taking care of us

During a recent stint on jury duty, I had the unique opportunity to ride to and from the courthouse on public transportation—the Metro bus. I say unique opportunity because public transportation affords one exposure to the wide variety of people who live in the city and who make their way around its bustling streets and byways by taking the bus. In fact, a wide gamut of society rides together crammed on the Metro bus. Business people hurry to get to work, multi-tasking laptop, cellphone, and paper folders full of projects and to do lists. Students rush to get to school sequestering themselves from the world of the bus by burying their heads in books or tuning into their IPods. There are also many homeless individuals who ride the bus in the “free zone” downtown back and forth between stops, affording a movable shelter from the cold.

Sheer observation of this dynamic diversity was often the extent of my thoughts as I rode. One morning, a group of developmentally disabled students from the local high school got on the bus with me. I tried to engage in light conversation with the few who sat down next to me, asking where they were going in the city. One young woman just stared at me blankly; another, perpetually talking about absolutely everything and nothing at the same time tried to engage me, but not with an answer. Two other young men simply looked at me, offered a vacant smile, and then returned to fiddling with objects to keep their hands and minds occupied.

As the bus moved forward towards the next stop with our unique human cargo, I was overcome with emotion. I wasn’t crying because I felt sorry for these disabled students or worried about their quality of lives—although I do and I did that day. I wasn’t overcome as a result of my admiration for the adult workers whose vocation led them to care for these students who are often the least and the last—although I do, and I did. I was overcome with emotion because I suddenly identified with these disabled individuals. Though I appear “able” bodied—of sound mind and well put together—I realized that I am just like they are.

Like these disabled students who are broken in body and mind, I have experienced grief in my life that has left me profoundly broken in spirit. As a result of this experience, there are times that I ramble on filling the air with meaningless pieties or pronouncements. Or I offer nothing but a blank stare when I should offer words of comfort. While my appearance is ordered, I am just as distorted and damaged on the inside, confused, and in need of care and oversight because of my disabilities. Though their eyes are vacant or their tongues loll, though they mumble meaningless phrases or say nothing at all, they are not so different from me nor am I from them.

It was this kind of profound identification with another human being—recognizing that though we appear different on the surface we are related to one another—that prompted Jesus to tell a parable about two debtors. As he was dining with religious leaders, a woman had interrupted their festivities by washing Jesus’s feet with her tears and with the finest perfume. Incensed because of her intrusion and asserting his own self-righteousness as one of the faithful, a religious leader remarked to himself that if Jesus was any sort of a prophet he would know what sort of person this woman is who is touching him and that she was a sinner. In the parable Jesus then tells, a moneylender had two debtors. One owed a large amount of money and the other a small amount. Both debtors were unable to repay their debt. Yet the moneylender graciously forgave both of them their debts. Jesus asked the religious leader, “Which of them therefore will love him more?” The religious leader answered, “I suppose the one whom he forgave more.”

The religious leader answered correctly; yet did he understand that he was a debtor in need of forgiveness? Did he understand that he was just like the sinful woman who anointed Jesus feet with her tears and with the finest perfume? We are not told. But later we are given another story of a religious leader and a tax collector who go to the temple to pray. The religious leader thanks God that he is not like other people: swindlers, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. The tax collector will not even lift his eyes, but beats his breast and cries out, “Have mercy on me, the sinner.” Jesus argues that it is this man who goes down to his house justified rather than the one who believes himself to be religious.(1)

It is so easy, if one counts oneself among the ‘faithful’—regardless of religious affiliation or tradition—to cease understanding that one needs the same mercy as the poorest soul or vilest offender. Just as I was reminded of the true state of my soul as I was encountered by the profoundly disabled students, so these stories of Jesus remind those with ears to hear of our shared identity and our profound need. We share a need for mercy just as we share DNA—able and disabled alike.

Margaret Manning is a member of the writing and speaking team at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Seattle, Washington. 

(1) See both stories in Luke 7:40-50; 18:9-14.

Morning   –  “Ye shall be scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave me alone.”

John 16:32

Few had fellowship with the sorrows of Gethsemane. The majority of the disciples

were not sufficiently advanced in grace to be admitted to behold the mysteries

of “the agony.” Occupied with the passover feast at their own houses, they

represent the many who live upon the letter, but are mere babes as to the spirit

of the gospel. To twelve, nay, to eleven only was the privilege given to enter

Gethsemane and see “this great sight.” Out of the eleven, eight were left at a

distance; they had fellowship, but not of that intimate sort to which men

greatly beloved are admitted. Only three highly favoured ones could approach the

veil of our Lord’s mysterious sorrow: within that veil even these must

not intrude; a stone’s-cast distance must be left between. He must tread the

wine-press alone, and of the people there must be none with him. Peter and the

two sons of Zebedee, represent the few eminent, experienced saints, who may be

written down as “Fathers;” these having done business on great waters, can in

some degree measure the huge Atlantic waves of their Redeemer’s passion. To some

selected spirits it is given, for the good of others, and to strengthen them for

future, special, and tremendous conflict, to enter the inner circle and hear the

pleadings of the suffering High Priest; they have fellowship with him in his

sufferings, and are made conformable unto his death. Yet even

these cannot penetrate the secret places of the Saviour’s woe. “Thine unknown

sufferings” is the remarkable expression of the Greek liturgy: there was an

inner chamber in our Master’s grief, shut out from human knowledge and

fellowship. There Jesus is “left alone.” Here Jesus was more than ever an

“Unspeakable gift!” Is not Watts right when he sings–

“And all the unknown joys he gives,

Were bought with agonies unknown.”

 

 

Evening  –  “Canst thou bind the sweet influences of Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion?”

Job 38:31

If inclined to boast of our abilities, the grandeur of nature may soon show us

how puny we are. We cannot move the least of all the twinkling stars, or quench

so much as one of the beams of the morning. We speak of power, but the heavens

laugh us to scorn. When the Pleiades shine forth in spring with vernal joy we

cannot restrain their influences, and when Orion reigns aloft, and the year is

bound in winter’s fetters, we cannot relax the icy bands. The seasons revolve

according to the divine appointment, neither can the whole race of men effect a

change therein. Lord, what is man?

In the spiritual, as in the natural world, man’s power is limited on all hands.

When the Holy Spirit sheds abroad his delights in the soul, none can disturb;

all the cunning and malice of men are ineffectual to stay the genial quickening

power of the Comforter. When he deigns to visit a church and revive it, the most

inveterate enemies cannot resist the good work; they may ridicule it, but they

can no more restrain it than they can push back the spring when the Pleiades

rule the hour. God wills it, and so it must be. On the other hand, if the Lord

in sovereignty, or in justice, bind up a man so that he is in soul bondage, who

can give him liberty? He alone can remove the winter of spiritual

death from an individual or a people. He looses the bands of Orion, and none

but he. What a blessing it is that he can do it. O that he would perform the

wonder tonight. Lord, end my winter, and let my spring begin. I cannot with all

my longings raise my soul out of her death and dulness, but all things are

possible with thee. I need celestial influences, the clear shinings of thy love,

the beams of thy grace, the light of thy countenance; these are the Pleiades to

me. I suffer much from sin and temptation; these are my wintry signs, my

terrible Orion. Lord, work wonders in me, and for me. Amen.

 

Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church.

Ephesians 5:25

What a golden example Christ gives to His disciples! Few masters could venture to say, “If you would practice my teaching, imitate my life.” But as the life of Jesus is the exact transcript of perfect virtue, He can point to Himself as the paragon of holiness, as well as the teacher of it. The Christian should take nothing less than Christ for his model. Under no circumstances should we be content unless we reflect the grace that was in Him.

As a husband, the Christian is to look upon the portrait of Christ Jesus, and he is to paint according to that copy. The true Christian is to be such a husband as Christ was to His church.

The love of a husband is special. The Lord Jesus cherishes for the church a peculiar affection, which is set upon her above the rest of mankind: “I am praying for them. I am not praying for the world.”2 The elect church is the favorite of heaven, the treasure of Christ, the crown of His head, the bracelet of His arm, the breastplate of His heart, the very center and core of His love.

A husband should love his wife with a constant love, for in this way Jesus loves His church. He does not vary in His affection. He may change in His display of affection, but the affection itself is still the same.

A husband should love his wife with an enduring love, for nothing shall “separate us from the love of . . . Christ.”3

A true husband loves his wife with a hearty love, fervent and intense. It is not mere lip service. What more could Christ have done in proof of His love than He has done?

Jesus has a delighted love toward His spouse: He prizes her affection and delights in her with sweet satisfaction.

Believer, you wonder at Jesus’ love; you admire it–are you imitating it? In your domestic relationships, is the rule and measure of your love “even as Christ loved the church”?

2 John 17:9 3 Romans 8:39

The family reading plan for March 20, 2012

Proverbs 7 | Galatians 6