John 5:16-19

Throughout the Bible, we observe God at work in people’s lives. Sometimes He acts in dramatic fashion, as in parting the Red Sea to allow the Israelites to escape the Egyptian army. At other times it may appear as if He’s not taking any action. Mary and Martha sent word to Jesus that their brother needed His help, but Christ delayed before traveling to their home (John 11:3-6).

Our Father has given us the Holy Spirit to help us recognize His presence and handiwork. The Spirit cultivates spiritual discernment in us so we can understand when and where He’s at work.

In addition to spiritual discernment, we must develop patience because the Lord operates according to His timetable, not ours. After being promised numerous descendants, Abrahan had to wait until he and Sarah were beyond childbearing years before she conceived. Impatience can cause us to take matters into our own hands and make mistakes.

The Lord’s efforts can bring delight, as was the case when Hannah bore a child (1 Sam. 1:27-2:1). His plan can also lead through painful times, which was Joseph’s experience. Before the Lord elevated him to a position of authority to help his family, Joseph was sold into slavery and unjustly imprisoned.

Jesus told the disciples that His Father was always at work and so was He. We will be encouraged and strengthened in our faith when we recognize the ways in which God is operating. These glimpses of His handiwork will motivate us to stay the course and help us maintain a godly perspective on life

One of my favorite scenes from the story of the birth of Jesus is of the far-seeing elderly Simeon reaching for the child in Mary’s arms, content now to die for having seen the Messiah with his own eyes. His words to Mary, more eerie than most mothers could graciously accept, always seemed a cryptic little side note from a strange and saintly old man. But the prophecy never struck me as a pivotal introduction to Luke’s overarching motif of suffering throughout his telling of the story of Christ. Says Simeon:

“This child is destined for the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed.”(1)

Starting with Simeon, theologian Roy Harrisville draws out a side of Luke that surprised my reading of Luke’s Gospel and passion narrative—if only the surprise of seeing plainly something I’d never noticed.(2) Again and again Luke points out the necessity of Jesus’s suffering, long before he is approaching the cross. I was nonetheless left with a plaguing question perhaps less for Harrisville than for God—or Jesus along the road to Emmaus. Why was it necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into glory, as he tells the men as they walk toward Emmaus? Why was Christ’s suffering a matter of “divine necessity”?

Luke has long struck me as one of the more fascinating narrators of the life and death of Jesus, including details at a story level that make for more nuanced intrigue. “Day after day I was with you in the temple and you did not seize me,” says Jesus at his trial. “But all this has taken place, that the scriptures of the prophets might be fulfilled,” he explains in Matthew and similarly in Mark, “But let the scriptures be fulfilled.” Yet Luke’s recollection of the scene is much less formulaic. Jesus replies with a far more layered vision of all that is at work. “But this is your hour, and the power of darkness,” hinting that there is another hour and the power of something else at hand.(3) Luke repeatedly includes hints of these disparate visions at work, blind and brute ignorance beside cryptic insight like Simeon’s, a contrast seen quite literally in the very criminals on either side of Jesus on the cross.

All of this I have cherished in the evangelist’s telling. And I can now see, as Harrisville notes, that Luke’s relentless pointing to the necessity of Christ’s suffering lies at the heart of this dramatic narration; I can see that Luke describes the life of Jesus as the way of the suffering Christ, and the passion of the cross as the necessary event which marks the approachingkingdom. But why? Beyond the need to encourage suffering readers, beyond the musts of scripture, why was it necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things? If Luke’s telling is indeed a motif of human ignorance alongside that of the divine necessity, I am thankful for the grace that is shown on the side of unknowing. I am thankful that Jesus went willingly toward suffering for our own sakes even though we might not fully understand it.

Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.

(1) Luke 2:34-35.
(2) Roy Harrisville, Fracture: The Cross as Irreconcilable in the Language and Thought of the Biblical Writers (Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 2006).
(3) Parallel texts found in Matthew 26:56, Mark 14:49b, and Luke 22:53b.

Morning  “And he went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed.”

Matthew 26:39

There are several instructive features in our Saviour’s prayer in his hour of

trial. It was lonely prayer. He withdrew even from his three favoured disciples.

Believer, be much in solitary prayer, especially in times of trial. Family

prayer, social prayer, prayer in the Church, will not suffice, these are very

precious, but the best beaten spice will smoke in your censer in your private

devotions, where no ear hears but God’s.

It was humble prayer. Luke says he knelt, but another evangelist says he “fell

on his face.” Where, then, must be thy place, thou humble servant of the great

Master? What dust and ashes should cover thy head! Humility gives us good

foot-hold in prayer. There is no hope of prevalence with God unless we abase

ourselves that he may exalt us in due time.

It was filial prayer. “Abba, Father.” You will find it a stronghold in the day

of trial to plead your adoption. You have no rights as a subject, you have

forfeited them by your treason; but nothing can forfeit a child’s right to a

father’s protection. Be not afraid to say, “My Father, hear my cry.”

 

Observe that it was persevering prayer. He prayed three times. Cease not until

you prevail. Be as the importunate widow, whose continual coming earned what her

first supplication could not win. Continue in prayer, and watch in the same with

thanksgiving.

Lastly, it was the prayer of resignation. “Nevertheless, not as I will, but as

thou wilt.” Yield, and God yields. Let it be as God wills, and God will

determine for the best. Be thou content to leave thy prayer in his hands, who

knows when to give, and how to give, and what to give, and what to withhold. So

pleading, earnestly, importunately, yet with humility and resignation, thou

shalt surely prevail.

 

Evening  “Father, I will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am.”

John 17:24

O death! why dost thou touch the tree beneath whose spreading branches weariness

hath rest? Why dost thou snatch away the excellent of the earth, in whom is all

our delight? If thou must use thine axe, use it upon the trees which yield no

fruit; thou mightest be thanked then. But why wilt thou fell the goodly cedars

of Lebanon? O stay thine axe, and spare the righteous. But no, it must not be;

death smites the goodliest of our friends; the most generous, the most

prayerful, the most holy, the most devoted must die. And why? It is through

Jesus’ prevailing prayer–“Father, I will that they also, whom thou hast given

me, be with me where I am.” It is that which bears them on eagle’s wings to

heaven. Every time a believer mounts from this earth to paradise, it is an

answer to Christ’s prayer. A good old divine remarks, “Many times Jesus and his

people pull against one another in prayer. You bend your knee in prayer and say

Father, I will that thy saints be with me where I am;’ Christ says, Father, I

will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am.'” Thus the

disciple is at cross-purposes with his Lord. The soul cannot be in both places:

the beloved one cannot be with Christ and with you too. Now, which pleader shall

win the day? If you had your choice; if the King should step from his throne,

and say, “Here are two supplicants praying in opposition to one

another, which shall be answered?” Oh! I am sure, though it were agony, you

would start from your feet, and say, “Jesus, not my will, but thine be done.”

You would give up your prayer for your loved one’s life, if you could realize

the thoughts that Christ is praying in the opposite direction–“Father, I will

that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am.” Lord, thou

shalt have them. By faith we let them go.

 

Can you bind the chains of the Pleiades or loose the cords of Orion?

Job 38:31

If we are inclined to boast of our abilities, the grandeur of nature will quickly show us how puny we are. We cannot move the least of all the twinkling stars or quench so much as one of the sunbeams of the morning. We speak of power, but the heavens laugh us to scorn. When the stars shine forth in spring-like joy, we cannot restrain their influences; and when Orion reigns above, and the year is bound in winter’s chains, we cannot relax the icy grip. The seasons arrive by divine appointment, and it is impossible for men to change the cycle. 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 unable to prevent 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, binds up a man so that his soul is in 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 dullness, but all things are possible with You. I need heavenly influences, the clear shinings of Your love, the beams of Your grace, the light of Your countenance–these are as summer suns to me. I suffer greatly from sin and temptation; these are my terrible wintry signs. Lord, work wonders in me, and for me. Amen.

The family reading plan for March 21, 2012

Proverbs 8 | Ephesians 1