Hebrews 10:23-25

When you hear the word “church,” do you picture a little white building full of smiling people in fancy clothes? As lovely as that image may be, God’s design for church is unrelated to it. He created the church to be a unified fellowship of believers who encourage each other and carry out His ministry to the world.

The Bible clearly defines the following as ministries of the church: worshiping the living God, instructing and edifying believers, making disciples of all nations, and serving the needy. Unless the leadership is careful, however, these purposes can all too easily get out of balance, with the unfortunate result that the body ends up malnourished. For example, a church with too heavy an emphasis on praise might become introverted. Congregations that overemphasize teaching could lose their joy, and those that evangelize to the neglect of the other areas could miss out on great faith.

Because of sin and human imperfection, we do not experience church as it was originally intended. Instead, there’s a tendency to overstress certain ministry areas. What’s more, divisive arguments–many of which concern minor issues, such as music preferences–too often destroy unity. Greed, pride, selfishness, and gossip can also tear a congregation apart.

Since they’re composed of imperfect people, churches will be imperfect too. Though expecting anything else leads to disappointment, we should nonetheless strive for God’s original design, continually measuring ourselves against Scripture and correcting course to realign with His purpose.

For one family in Venezuela, the space between death and life was filled with more shock than usual. After a serious car accident, Carlos Camejo was pronounced dead at the scene. Officials released the body to the morgue and a routine autopsy was ordered. But as soon as examiners began the autopsy, they realized something was gravely amiss: the body was bleeding. They quickly stitched up the wounds to stop the bleeding, a procedure without anesthesia which, in turn, jarred the man to consciousness. “I woke up because the pain was unbearable,” said Camejo. Equally jarred awake was Camejo’s wife, who came to the morgue to identify her husband’s body and instead found him in the hallway—alive.

Enlivened with images from countless forensic television shows, the scene comes vividly to life. Equally vivid is the scientific principle utilized by the doctors in the morgue. Sure, blood is ubiquitous with work in a morgue; but the dead do not bleed. This is a sign of the living.

Thought and practice in Old Testament times revolved around a similar understanding—namely, the life is in the blood. It is this notion that informs the expression that “blood is  on one’s hands” when life has wrongfully been taken. When Cain killed his brother Abel, God confronted him in the field, “Listen! Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground.” There is a general understanding for the ancient Hebrew that blood is the very substance of our createdness, that in our blood is the essence of what it means to be alive. There is life in the blood; there is energy and power.

This notion of blood and its power can also be seen in the language of sacrifice and offering found throughout Near Eastern culture. “And you shall provide a lamb a year old without blemish for a burnt offering to the LORD daily; morning by morning you shall provide it” (Ezekiel 46:13). Just as it was understood that the force of life exists in the blood, there was a general understanding of human need for the power of perfect blood, a need in our lives for atoning and cleansing. But the blood of Israel’s sacrifices was different in this sense than the blood shed by those attempting to appease and approach the gods they feared and followed. The prophets sent throughout Israel’s history were forever insisting that the God of Israel wanted more than the empty performance of sacrifice. God desired these offerings to exemplify the heart of a worshiper, one who yearns to be fully alive in the presence of the creator. The blood of a living sacrifice made this possible temporarily, but God would provide a better way.

When Christianity speaks of Christ as the Lamb of God, it is meant to be a description that moves well beyond symbolism. Christ is the Lamb whose blood cries out with enough life and power to reach every sin, every shortfall, every tear, every evil. He is the Lamb who comes to the slaughter alive and aware, on his own accord, and with his blood covers our deep need, moving us forever into the presence of God by the Spirit. There is life in the blood of Christ, whose entire life is self-giving; there is power, and he has freely sacrificed all to bring it near. “I tell you the truth,” Jesus said to a crowd that would understand the concept, “unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you” (John 6:53).

Mr. Camejo bled because he was living. His pain was equally a sign of life. And our own pain is similar. The many ways in which we have bled, fragile and mortal, are signs of life, something shared with one who suffered in every way. Considering Christ’s body and blood, the elements of the Lord’s Supper, or the story of Jesus being led to the cross, do you see someone very much alive, bleeding, and conscious? “When they hurled their insults at him,” writes Peter, “he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he…bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness.” The Christian story tells of a time when we will bow before the slain Lamb who stands very much alive, though bearing the scars of our atonement. The Lamb of God is not dead and buried, but alive, beckoning a broken world to his wounded side, offering the life and power of his blood. For indeed, the dead don’t bleed.

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

Morning    “In the world ye shall have tribulation.”     John 16:33

Art thou asking the reason of this, believer? Look upward to thy heavenly

Father, and behold him pure and holy. Dost thou know that thou art one day to be

like him? Wilt thou easily be conformed to his image? Wilt thou not require much

refining in the furnace of affliction to purify thee? Will it be an easy thing

to get rid of thy corruptions, and make thee perfect even as thy Father which is

in heaven is perfect? Next, Christian, turn thine eye downward. Dost thou know

what foes thou hast beneath thy feet? Thou wast once a servant of Satan, and no

king will willingly lose his subjects. Dost thou think that Satan will let thee

alone? No, he will be always at thee, for he “goeth about like a

roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.” Expect trouble, therefore,

Christian, when thou lookest beneath thee. Then look around thee. Where art

thou? Thou art in an enemy’s country, a stranger and a sojourner. The world is

not thy friend. If it be, then thou art not God’s friend, for he who is the

friend of the world is the enemy of God. Be assured that thou shalt find foe-men

everywhere. When thou sleepest, think that thou art resting on the battlefield;

when thou walkest, suspect an ambush in every hedge. As mosquitoes are said to

bite strangers more than natives, so will the trials of earth be sharpest to

you. Lastly, look within thee, into thine own heart and observe what is there.

Sin and self are still within. Ah! if thou hadst no devil to tempt thee, no

enemies to fight thee, and no world to ensnare thee, thou wouldst still find in

thyself evil enough to be a sore trouble to thee, for “the heart is deceitful

above all things, and desperately wicked.” Expect trouble then, but despond not

on account of it, for God is with thee to help and to strengthen thee. He hath

said, “I will be with thee in trouble; I will deliver thee and honour thee.”

 

Evening  “A very present help.”   Psalm 46:1

Covenant blessings are not meant to be looked at only, but to be appropriated.

Even our Lord Jesus is given to us for our present use. Believer, thou dost not

make use of Christ as thou oughtest to do. When thou art in trouble, why dost

thou not tell him all thy grief? Has he not a sympathizing heart, and can he not

comfort and relieve thee? No, thou art going about to all thy friends, save thy

best Friend, and telling thy tale everywhere except into the bosom of thy Lord.

Art thou burdened with this day’s sins? Here is a fountain filled with blood:

use it, saint, use it. Has a sense of guilt returned upon thee? The pardoning

grace of Jesus may be proved again and again. Come to him at once

for cleansing. Dost thou deplore thy weakness? He is thy strength: why not lean

upon him? Dost thou feel naked? Come hither, soul; put on the robe of Jesus’

righteousness. Stand not looking at it, but wear it. Strip off thine own

righteousness, and thine own fears too: put on the fair white linen, for it was

meant to wear. Dost thou feel thyself sick? Pull the night-bell of prayer, and

call up the Beloved Physician! He will give the cordial that will revive thee.

Thou art poor, but then thou hast “a kinsman, a mighty man of wealth.” What!

wilt thou not go to him, and ask him to give thee of his abundance, when he has

given thee this promise, that thou shalt be joint heir with him, and has

made over all that he is and all that he has to be thine? There is nothing

Christ dislikes more than for his people to make a show-thing of him, and not to

use him. He loves to be employed by us. The more burdens we put on his

shoulders, the more precious will he be to us.

“Let us be simple with him, then,

Not backward, stiff, or cold,

As though our Bethlehem could be

What Sinai was of old.”

 

These all died in faith.   Hebrews 11:13

Consider the epitaph of all those blessed saints who fell asleep before the coming of our Lord! The issue is not how they died—whether of old age or by violent means—but that whatever their diverse experiences, they are united in Him: “These all died in faith.” In faith they lived—it was their comfort, their guide, their motive, and their support; and in the same spiritual grace they died, ending their life-song in the sweet melody that had followed them through life. They did not die trusting in the flesh or their own attainments; they never wavered from their first way of acceptance with God but held to the way of faith to the end. Faith is as precious to die by as to live by.

Dying in faith has distinct reference to the past. They believed the promises that had gone before and were assured that their sins were blotted out through the mercy of God. Dying in faith has to do with the present. These saints were confident of their acceptance with God; they enjoyed the benefits of His love and rested in His faithfulness. Dying in faith looks into the future. They fell asleep, affirming that the Messiah would surely come and that when He in the last days appeared upon the earth, they would rise from their graves to behold Him. To them the pains of death were but the birth-pangs of a better state.

Take courage, my soul, as you read this epitaph. Your journey, through grace, is one of faith, not sight, and this has always been the pathway of the brightest and the best. Faith was the orbit in which these stars of the first magnitude shone in their day; and happy are you to be in their company. Look again tonight to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of your faith, and thank Him for giving you like precious faith with souls now in glory.

The family reading plan for May 2, 2012

Song 7 | Hebrews 7