Ephesians 6:13-18

We have a very real Enemy who seeks to deceive and distract us from becoming who God wants us to be. So we must always be alert. Prepare for spiritual warfare by making today’s passage part of your daily time with God. For example, “put on” the various armor pieces as you pray:

Lord, thank You for giving me everything I need for doing battle in Your name. In the power of Your Spirit, I put on my “armor”–

• Protect my mind and imagination with the helmet of salvation. Focus my thoughts steadily on Your love and power.
• I claim Christ’s righteousness as my breastplate, protecting heart and emotions.
• So that I won’t be governed by feelings, wrap Your belt of truth around the core of my being to protect me from deception.
• Guide my steps in the sandals of peace. Set my feet firmly in the good news of Your redemption and love for the world, and empower me to stand firm against attack.
• I raise my shield of faith. Protect me from Satan’s arrows as I stand shoulder to shoulder with Your army in a wall of opposition against his schemes.
• I take up the sword of the Spirit. Plant Your Word deep in my heart in a fresh, exciting way so I will always be ready to deflect and cut down lies with Your truth. I proclaim Your victory today!

You should never be so preoccupied with fighting that anxiety makes you lose your focus on the joy of knowing God. Rather, remain at peace as you “dress” for battle, knowing that you are fully victorious and secure in Christ, and that He has already defeated the Enemy

In John’s telling of the life of Jesus, Jesus is described as the kingly shepherd who lays down his life for his friends, the gate who lets in the sheep, and the lamb of God himself. So it is not without significance that John dates Jesus’s death on the day of preparation of the Passover, the day a lamb is slaughtered in remembrance of God’s passing over the Israelites in Egypt. Whereas Matthew, Mark, and Luke each describe a final supper shared with the disciples in the upper room, John hints at the consumption of a meal in the mysterious space after Christ’s death. In other words, the bread of life and Lamb of God is first broken and slaughtered so that the Passover meal can be seen in its full significance by a greater upper room.

This mystery of the Lamb after the slaughter is extensively heightened in the Revelation of John. Envisioned is a heavenly scene with one seated on the throne holding a scroll, and John begins to weep because no one is worthy to open it. But then one of the elders points to “the Lion of the Tribe of Judah,” “the Root of David,” the one who “has conquered.” And John sees between the throne and the four living creatures and among the elders “a Lamb standing as if it had been slaughtered,” one worthy to open the scroll. But how on earth does a lamb stand when it has been slaughtered? And what are we to do with such a creature?

For me it brings to mind the deliberately impossible demands presented by Jesus. How are we to be perfect? To live holy lives? To keep anger at bay lest we be guilty of murder in our hearts? It is a life we might succeed in trying for a time, but ultimately we cannot remotely achieve. In the words of one theologian, “[T]he summons to a holy life, far from assuming its achievement, assumes quite the opposite: that God has acted and nothing can be done in response. The structures of existence are incapable of change or alteration, whether empowered by grace or not.“(1) Which is perhaps to say, the lamb was slain. Irreversibly, Jesus was slaughtered, his life laid down for his friends. And now, in a seeming incapable structure of existence, this slaughtered Lamb stands.

Professor John Lennox notes that when Scripture speaks of Christ as the Lamb of God, it is easy to think of it as something like a symbolic code. We read of the lamb or the lion and the recognition is instantaneous: The lamb is Christ. The lion is Christ. But John’s description of the slain and standing lamb seems to say not only who it is, but what it is. This is Christ as the lamb—that is, beyond the statements he made about himself, beyond the parables, beyond the imagery and symbolism with which Jesus spoke truths and turned categories on their heads. In this picture, he is the overturned. John places Christ as the lamb before us, and he is slaughtered yet standing. For  John, literarily at least, the way of slaughter is the way of victory.

Yet this is not to say, as some argue, that our own suffering is a similar way to the victorious life or that Christ is calling the world to suffer with him at the cross. The deliberately impossible marvel of the slain and standing lamb is blurred when we imagine ourselves in any way able to reproduce it. We can no more do so, than we can reenact the Incarnation.(2) While it is true that John’s audience was likely to suffer for their faith, the slaughtered lamb is not encouragement for of a brand of discipleship that recreates Christ’s suffering as victory; slaughter is not the goal. On the contrary, the slain and standing lamb is the one weapon capable of tearing violence and unjust suffering apart. This is not a symbol disciples are to learn to repeat and mimic; it is the very structure and feat of existence that allows them to be disciples. John’s description moves far beyond the slaughtered lamb as symbol. This is Christ as the lamb—the impossible structure of existence given not for us to mimic, but rather to take, eat, and drink. This is his body—a slaughtered and standing lamb—powerfully, mysteriously, impossibly broken and given for the world.

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

(1) Roy Harrisville, Fracture: The Cross as Irreconcilable in the Language and Thought of the Biblical Writers (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006), 111.
(2) Regrettably, this too is a language often heard, that followers are to be incarnational like Christ. For more on this, see J. Todd Billings, Union With Christ, (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2011).

Morning

“He was heard in that he feared.”  –   Hebrews 5:7

Did this fear arise from the infernal suggestion that he was utterly forsaken.

There may be sterner trials than this, but surely it is one of the worst to be

utterly forsaken? “See,” said Satan, “thou hast a friend nowhere! Thy Father

hath shut up the bowels of his compassion against thee. Not an angel in his

courts will stretch out his hand to help thee. All heaven is alienated from

thee; thou art left alone. See the companions with whom thou hast taken sweet

counsel, what are they worth? Son of Mary, see there thy brother James, see

there thy loved disciple John, and thy bold apostle Peter, how the cowards sleep

when thou art in thy sufferings! Lo! Thou hast no friend left in heaven or

earth. All hell is against thee. I have stirred up mine infernal den. I have

sent my missives throughout all regions summoning every prince of darkness to

set upon thee this night, and we will spare no arrows, we will use all our

infernal might to overwhelm thee: and what wilt thou do, thou solitary one?” It

may be, this was the temptation; we think it was, because the appearance of an

angel unto him strengthening him removed that fear. He was heard in that he

feared; he was no more alone, but heaven was with him. It may be that this is

the reason of his coming three times to his disciples–as Hart puts it–

“Backwards and forwards thrice he ran,

As if he sought some help from man.”

He would see for himself whether it were really true that all men had forsaken

him; he found them all asleep; but perhaps he gained some faint comfort from the

thought that they were sleeping, not from treachery, but from sorrow, the spirit

indeed was willing, but the flesh was weak. At any rate, he was heard in that he

feared. Jesus was heard in his deepest woe; my soul, thou shalt be heard also.

Evening

“In that hour Jesus rejoiced in spirit.”    –    Luke 10:21

The Saviour was “a man of sorrows,” but every thoughtful mind has discovered the

fact that down deep in his innermost soul he carried an inexhaustible treasury

of refined and heavenly joy. Of all the human race, there was never a man who

had a deeper, purer, or more abiding peace than our Lord Jesus Christ. “He was

anointed with the oil of gladness above his fellows.” His vast benevolence must,

from the very nature of things, have afforded him the deepest possible delight,

for benevolence is joy. There were a few remarkable seasons when this joy

manifested itself. “At that hour Jesus rejoiced in spirit, and said, I thank

thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth.” Christ had his songs,

though it was night with him; though his face was marred, and his countenance

had lost the lustre of earthly happiness, yet sometimes it was lit up with a

matchless splendour of unparalleled satisfaction, as he thought upon the

recompense of the reward, and in the midst of the congregation sang his praise

unto God. In this, the Lord Jesus is a blessed picture of his church on earth.

At this hour the church expects to walk in sympathy with her Lord along a thorny

road; through much tribulation she is forcing her way to the crown. To bear the

cross is her office, and to be scorned and counted an alien by her mother’s

children is her lot; and yet the church has a deep well of joy, of which

none can drink but her own children. There are stores of wine, and oil, and

corn, hidden in the midst of our Jerusalem, upon which the saints of God are

evermore sustained and nurtured; and sometimes, as in our Saviour’s case, we

have our seasons of intense delight, for “There is a river, the streams whereof

shall make glad the city of our God.” Exiles though we be, we rejoice in our

King; yea, in him we exceedingly rejoice, while in his name we set up our

banners.

I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.

Luke 19:40

But could the stones cry out? Assuredly they could if He who opens the mouth of the dumb should bid them lift up their voice. Certainly if they were to speak, they would have much to declare in praise of Him who created them by the word of His power; they could extol the wisdom and power of their Maker who called them into being. Shall we not speak well of Him who made us new and out of stones raised up children unto Abraham?

The old rocks could tell of chaos and order and the handiwork of God in successive stages of creation’s drama; are we not also able to talk of God’s decrees, of God’s great work in ancient times, in all that He did for His church in the days of old? If the stones were to speak, they could tell of their breaker, how he took them from the quarry and made them fit for the temple. And aren’t we also able to tell of our glorious Breaker, who broke our hearts with the hammer of His Word, that He might build us into His temple? If the stones should cry out, they would magnify their builder, who polished them and fashioned them into a beautiful palace; and shall not we talk of our Architect and Builder, who has put us in our place in the temple of the living God? If the stones could cry out, they might have a long, long story to tell by way of memorial, for many a time a great stone has been rolled as a memorial before the Lord; and we too can testify, stones of help and pillars of remembrance.

The broken stones of the law cry out against us, but Christ Himself, who has rolled away the stone from the door of the tomb, speaks for us. Stones might well cry out, but we will not let them: We will silence their noise as we break into sacred song and bless the majesty of the Most High; we will spend all our days glorifying Him whom Jacob calls the Shepherd and Stone of Israel.

The family reading plan for March 23, 2012

Proverbs 10 | Ephesians 3

Psalm 33:3-11

The work God does is creative. He made heaven, earth, and all living creatures. He formed Adam and Eve in His image and knitted each of us in our mother’s womb.

His work is also powerful. Through His Son Jesus, He accomplished a great salvation for all who trust in the Savior. Our heavenly Father worked mightily to open a way for us to be reconciled to Him and adopted into His family. Not only that, but God’s work is ongoing, and Jesus is the One who holds all things together (Col. 1:17).

In order to recognize God’s handiwork, we need to pray in an active, persistent manner. Christ-centered prayers narrow our focus to the Lord. Then we can more readily identify His actions and see how to join Him. Self-centered petitions serve to distract us from Him.

The Father also wants our heart and mind yielded to His will. Pursuing our own agenda shifts the focus to ourselves and makes us lose sight of the Lord. But a submissive attitude prepares us to listen and obey. Regularly concentrating on God’s Word will clear our minds and help us understand what the Lord is doing.

When we combine these disciplines with discernment and patience, we will have positioned ourselves to discover how God is working in our lives and in our world.

Our Lord is at work today–calling nonbelievers to saving faith and the redeemed to a closer walk with Him. His plans include individuals, families, and nations. Have you been too busy or distracted to notice what He’s doing? Confess your inattention and refocus your heart and mind on Him

I remember the time when my son had to go through a very simple surgery when he was five years old. He was not able to breathe properly, so the doctors had to remove some extra tissue surrounding his nostril and nasal passages. During the hours and days after his surgery, my once-a-chatterbox son had become completely quiet. Because of the fear of being hurt if he spoke, he quit using words for his way of communication. It was overwhelming to see my boy struggling to express himself in that condition.

As I assisted my son get back to talking, I could not help but think of how unexpectedly Zechariah lost his speech after he questioned the angel who brought him such good news about a long-waited child in his old age.(1) In Zechariah’s case, the temporary loss of words was something of an acknowledgement of the promised child he doubted, a child who would prepare the way for the Messiah. Though he knew why he was made silent, I am sure he felt restless until he held his son in his arms and was finally able to describe his emotions properly.

There are spiritual retreat centers in various locations around the world, which offer “Silent Weeks” to those who are over-exhausted from excessive communication. During these weeks, individuals are banned from verbal communication in order to quiet themselves internally. The goal is simply to bring back the core purpose of real interaction: meaning to what is being said in reality.

When the words are taken from us either because of the inability to speak or the lack of verbal direction, we become strangely poor, almost incomplete. There are two sides of this poverty: one is internal, losing the comfort of one’s capability to express oneself fully. The other is external, as one finds no real guidance to turn to for wisdom. In my opinion, the latter has eternal ramifications if not satisfied in a timely manner.

Similar to these weeks, there once was a time in biblical history when God stopped talking. Between the periods from the prophet Malachi until the first written words of Matthew’s gospel, we do not read any account of God communicating to his people through words. Humankind experienced a poverty of words, a lack of communication and intervention from the creator. It was a long pause before the grand entrance of God into this silence, fully revealing God’s essence by identifying who God is, as the ultimate Word, Jesus Christ.

Once we hear this Word then we truly comprehend the fact that we have been poor, living in the poverty of words over our lives’ direction. Once we hear and know this Word, this is when we discover that only the living Word can quench our thirst for meaning.

Those who have heard are eternally grateful to the Spirit who reveals Christ, the Word, to us. I also think of Jesus’s humility by limiting himself, becoming poor himself for a time, just so we would not stay in a poverty of words.

It did hurt him being on the cross, similar to my son’s feeling after the surgery. But one big difference: This did not stop Jesus from talking and declaring the fullness of our salvation by saying: “It is finished!”

Our poverty of words can be a distant memory for humankind, since God has spoken with the ultimate Word. Once this Person is fully internalized and lived by, from then on, both the creator and the created enjoy the pleasure of a mutual, ongoing conversation.

Senem Ekener is regional director for Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Istanbul, Turkey.

(1) Cf. Luke 1:18-20

Morning

“His sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.”

Luke 22:44

The mental pressure arising from our Lord’s struggle with temptation, so forced

his frame to an unnatural excitement, that his pores sent forth great drops of

blood which fell down to the ground. This proves how tremendous must have been

the weight of sin when it was able to crush the Saviour so that he distilled

great drops of blood! This demonstrates the mighty power of his love. It is a

very pretty observation of old Isaac Ambrose that the gum which exudes from the

tree without cutting is always the best. This precious camphire-tree yielded

most sweet spices when it was wounded under the knotty whips, and when it was

pierced by the nails on the cross; but see, it giveth forth its best

spice when there is no whip, no nail, no wound. This sets forth the

voluntariness of Christ’s sufferings, since without a lance the blood flowed

freely. No need to put on the leech, or apply the knife; it flows spontaneously.

No need for the rulers to cry, “Spring up, O well;” of itself it flows in

crimson torrents. If men suffer great pain of mind apparently the blood rushes

to the heart. The cheeks are pale; a fainting fit comes on; the blood has gone

inward as if to nourish the inner man while passing through its trial. But see

our Saviour in his agony; he is so utterly oblivious of self, that instead of

his agony driving his blood to the heart to nourish himself, it drives it

outward

to bedew the earth. The agony of Christ, inasmuch as it pours him out upon the

ground, pictures the fulness of the offering which he made for men.

Do we not perceive how intense must have been the wrestling through which he

passed, and will we not hear its voice to us? “Ye have not yet resisted unto

blood, striving against sin.” Behold the great Apostle and High Priest of our

profession, and sweat even to blood rather than yield to the great tempter of

your souls.

Evening

“I tell you that, if these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately

cry out.”    –   Luke 19:40

But could the stones cry out? Assuredly they could if he who opens the mouth of

the dumb should bid them lift up their voice. Certainly if they were to speak,

they would have much to testify in praise of him who created them by the word of

his power; they could extol the wisdom and power of their Maker who called them

into being. Shall not we speak well of him who made us anew, and out of stones

raised up children unto Abraham? The old rocks could tell of chaos and order,

and the handiwork of God in successive stages of creation’s drama; and cannot we

talk of God’s decrees, of God’s great work in ancient times, in all that he did

for his church in the days of old? If the stones were to

speak, they could tell of their breaker, how he took them from the quarry, and

made them fit for the temple, and cannot we tell of our glorious Breaker, who

broke our hearts with the hammer of his word, that he might build us into his

temple? If the stones should cry out they would magnify their builder, who

polished them and fashioned them after the similitude of a palace; and shall not

we talk of our Architect and Builder, who has put us in our place in the temple

of the living God? If the stones could cry out, they might have a long, long

story to tell by way of memorial, for many a time hath a great stone been rolled

as a memorial before the Lord; and we too can testify of Ebenezers,

stones of help, pillars of remembrance. The broken stones of the law cry out

against us, but Christ himself, who has rolled away the stone from the door of

the sepulchre, speaks for us. Stones might well cry out, but we will not let

them: we will hush their noise with ours; we will break forth into sacred song,

and bless the majesty of the Most High, all our days glorifying him who is

called by Jacob the Shepherd and Stone of Israel.

Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am.   –   John 17:24

O death! Why do you touch the tree beneath whose spreading branches weariness finds rest? Why do you snatch away the excellent of the earth, in whom is all our delight? If you must use your axe, use it upon the trees that yield no fruit; then you may be thanked. But why will you chop down the best trees? Hold your axe, and spare the righteous.

But no, it must not be; death strikes the best 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 desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am.”

It is that which bears them on eagle’s wings to heaven. Every time a believer moves 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 desire that Your saints be with me where I am’; Christ says, ‘Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am.'”

In this way 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 of the two who plead 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 jump to your feet and say, “Jesus, not my will, but Yours 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 desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am.”

Lord, You shall have them. By faith we let them go.

The family reading plan for March 22, 2012

Proverbs 9 | Ephesians 2

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

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

Psalm 25:4-5

When you’re facing a decision, whether big or small, it is important to wait upon God for His direction and timing. And though it may sound paradoxical, there are three ways that we can take an active role in the process while we wait.

First, we should examine our heart, asking the Holy Spirit to expose any wrongs. If He brings something to light, it is important to take care of that sin immediately–by confessing, repenting, and doing whatever’s needed to correct the situation. At times we push this task aside because the impending decision seems like our main concern. Yet we cannot hear from God or receive His full blessing until we deal with transgression.

Second, when seeking direction, we should listen patiently and attentively for the Lord to give the go-ahead. It can be difficult to wait, especially when emotions or logic lead us to favor one choice.

Third, the answer to our prayer at times requires our involvement. For instance, when people tell me they’re out of work and trusting God to provide, I always want to know if they are actively looking for a job. Some are not; they are simply praying. We have responsibility not only to present God with requests and seek His guidance but also to be active in the process. Waiting on God is not an excuse to be lazy.

Prayer is a beautiful privilege that the heavenly Father gives to His children. He desires to lead us into a life of abundance. We should take an active part in seeking His will and listening for His voice. As we follow the Holy Spirit’s guidance, we will experience all that the Lord has for us

One of the unique qualities of the Christian story is that it is presented in the voices of four different witnesses. During the season of Lent, I have been looking specifically at the different tellings of the events that led Jesus to the cross. The differences in each testimony offer an interesting glimpse of how personalities differ in their observing and experience of the world, as well as a potent reminder that the story of Jesus is not a flat and static conveying of information but a story as alive as the one who was tortured at the hands of the powers of this world.

For instance, as one theologian observes, Matthew’s passion narrative and greater gospel presents “the way of the humiliated Christ.”(1) In my reading of Matthew, I find the interplay between power and control an interesting dynamic on which the writer has chosen to focus. Over and above the shared motif of Mark, Matthew seems to add a dimension of inquiry about power and along with it, the hint that all is not as it seems: Who wants control? Who thinks they’re in control? Who is really in control? Roy Harrisville compares it to the paradox and reversal at the heart of Jesus’s ministry, the passion itself enacting “truths earlier hidden in the predictions and parables.”(2)

Thus, where Mark’s decisive crowd before Pilate yells, “Crucify him” (15:13 and again in 14b) and Luke’s crowd similarly, if more emphatically in the Greek, yells, “Crucify, crucify him!” (23:21), Matthew’s crowd twice yells, “Let him be crucified” (27:22b and 23b). There is a hint of a distancing of responsibility. The crowds indeed want the crucifying done, but done to him by someone else. Luke seems to further draw the distinction of choice and control, adding of his crowd, “And they were urgent, demanding with loud cries that he should be crucified. And their voices prevailed” (23:23).

Matthew’s account seems at first passive in the “who” of the act of crucifying, a crowd calling for death at a distance. Later Pilate, too, wants to distance himself from this responsibility, adding a hand-washing scene unique to Matthew’s narrative. “I am innocent of this man’s blood,” says Pilate, “see to it yourselves” (27:24). The people, preferring control over the risk of release, answer, “His blood be on us and on our children” (27:25).

Matthew’s interplay of power and control is made all the more potent now phrased in terms of blood. Like Jesus’s many parables with their jarring sense of mysterion (mystery that is not hidden, but revealed), Matthew seems to suggest there is one in control indeed, but it is not the one who seems to be holding the power. The image of Christ’s blood upon this blind—though professing to see—crowd and their children is chilling. For unknowingly, they have declared the very thing the humiliated servant has set out to do.

Harrisville illustrates this all the more profoundly in his commentary on Matthew’s telling of the Last Supper and the curious words of Jesus about the “blood of the covenant,” now explained in the passion narrative before us:

“The statement about the ‘blood of the covenant’ (26:28) will have its explanation in subsequent events, in Judas’s confession (‘I have sinned by betraying innocent blood’ [27:24]), in Pilate’s avowal of innocence (‘I am innocent of this man’s blood’ [27:4]), and in the people’s accepting responsibility for Jesus’s death (‘his blood be on us and on our children!’ [27:25]). All these will be the ‘many’ for whose forgiveness the blood of the covenant is poured out.”(3)

The story of Jesus as he moves toward the cross, told through eyes that remind us he has come for a world of unique individuals, is a story of power and weakness that turns our common assumptions and experience on its head. Like the parables, the way of the humiliated Christ confounds us, approaching in power, though hidden in the unlikely gift of a servant.

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

 (1) Roy Harrisville, Fracture: The Cross as Irreconcilable in the Language and Thought of the Biblical Writers (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006), 147.
(2) Ibid., 158.
(3) Ibid., 159.

March 19 Morning  “My beloved.”

Song of Solomon 2:8

This was a golden name which the ancient Church in her most joyous moments was

wont to give to the Anointed of the Lord. When the time of the singing of birds

was come, and the voice of the turtle was heard in her land, her love-note was

sweeter than either, as she sang, “My beloved is mine and I am his: he feedeth

among the lilies.” Ever in her song of songs doth she call him by that

delightful name, “My beloved!” Even in the long winter, when idolatry had

withered the garden of the Lord, her prophets found space to lay aside the

burden of the Lord for a little season, and to say, as Esaias did, “Now will I

sing to my well-beloved a song of my beloved touching his vineyard.” Though the

saints had never seen his face, though as yet he was not made flesh, nor had

dwelt among us, nor had man beheld his glory, yet he was the consolation of

Israel, the hope and joy of all the chosen, the “beloved” of all those who were

upright before the Most High. We, in the summer days of the Church, are also

wont to speak of Christ as the best beloved of our soul, and to feel that he is

very precious, the “chiefest among ten thousand, and the altogether lovely.” So

true is it that the Church loves Jesus, and claims him as her beloved, that the

apostle dares to defy the whole universe to separate her from the love of

Christ, and declares that neither persecutions, distress, affliction,

peril, or the sword have been able to do it; nay, he joyously boasts, “In all

these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.”

O that we knew more of thee, thou ever precious one!

“My sole possession is thy love;

In earth beneath, or heaven above,

I have no other store;

And though with fervent suit I pray,

And importune thee day by day,

I ask thee nothing more.”

Evening “Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church.”

Ephesians 5:25

What a golden example Christ gives to his disciples! Few masters could venture

to say, “If you would practise 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 short of Christ for his model. Under no circumstances ought we to be

content unless we reflect the grace which 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 pray for them, I pray not for the world.” The elect church is the

favourite of heaven, the treasure of Christ, the crown of his head, the bracelet

of his arm, the breastplate of his heart, the very centre and core of his love.

A husband should love his wife with a constant love, for thus 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 be able to separate us from the

love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” A true husband loves his

wife with a hearty love, fervent and intense. It is not mere lip-service. Ah!

beloved, what more could Christ have done in proof of his love than he has done?

Jesus has a delighted love towards his spouse: He prizes her affection, and

delights in her with sweet complacence. 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?”

And she ate until she was satisfied, and she had some left over.

Ruth 2:14

Whenever we are privileged to eat the bread that Jesus gives, we are, like Ruth, satisfied with a full and sweet provision. When Jesus is the host, no guest goes empty from the table. Our head is satisfied with the precious truth that Christ reveals; our heart is content with Jesus as the altogether lovely object of affection; our hope is satisfied, for who do we have in heaven but Jesus? And our desire is fulfilled, for what more can we wish for than to “gain Christ and be found in him”?2 Jesus fills our conscience until it is at perfect peace, our judgment with persuasion of the certainty of His teachings, our memory with recollections of what He has done, and our imagination with the prospects of what He is still to do.

As Ruth was “satisfied,” so is it with us. We have drunk deeply; we have thought that we could take in all of Christ; but when we have done our best, we have had to leave a vast remainder. We have sat at the table of the Lord’s love and said, “Nothing but the infinite can ever satisfy me; I am such a great sinner that I must have infinite merit to wash my sin away.” But we have had our sin removed and found that there was merit to spare; we have had our hunger relieved at the feast of sacred love and found that there was an abundance of spiritual food remaining. There are certain sweet things in the Word of God that we have not enjoyed yet, and that we are obliged to leave for a while; for we are like the disciples to whom Jesus said, “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now.”3

Yes, there are graces to which we have not attained, places of fellowship nearer to Christ that we have not reached, and heights of communion that our feet have not climbed. At every banquet of love there are many baskets left.

2 Philippians 3:9 3 John 16:12

The family reading plan for March 19, 2012

Proverbs 6 | Galatians 5