It doesn’t seem fair, does it? Paul spent his life serving Christ, and yet he experienced continual suffering. Why would God let one of His most faithful servants go through so much pain? This isn’t just a question about Paul; it’s an issue we face today. In our minds, the Lord should protect His loyal followers from hardships, but He doesn’t necessarily do so.

Maybe our reasoning is backwards. We think faithful Christians don’t deserve to suffer, but from God’s perspective, suffering is what produces faithful Christians. If we all had lives of ease without opposition, trials, or pain, we’d never really know God, because we’d never need Him. Like it or not, adversity teaches us more about the Lord than simply reading the Bible ever will.

I’m not saying we don’t need to know Scripture; that’s our foundation for faith. But if what we believe is never tested by adversity, it remains head knowledge. How will we ever know the Lord can be trusted in the midst of trouble if we’ve never been challenged by hardship? God gives us opportunities to apply scriptural truths to the difficulties facing us, and in the process, we find Him faithful. For example, how would Paul ever have known the strength of Christ if he had never been weakened by pain, persecution, and adversity?

Depending on your response, trials can be God’s greatest means of building faith or an avenue to discouragement and self-pity. If you’ll believe what Scripture says and apply its principles to your situation, your trust in God will grow, and your faith will be strengthened through adversity.

 Many world religions today accept the man Jesus within their belief system. Muslims call him a prophet; some Buddhists consider him a bodhisattva, and New Age practitioners call him a social activist. Amidst such diverse claims of the identity of Jesus, who is the real Jesus? This reminds me of Jesus’s own question to his disciples in Matthew 16—namely, “Who do people say that I am?” A brief look at the backdrop of his question would help us better grasp the significance of this passage.

 First, consider the location. The incident occurred at a place some miles northeast of the Sea of Galilee in the domain of Herod Philip.(1)It was also the reputed birthplace of the god of Pan—the god of nature and fertility—and he was staunchly worshipped there. The surrounding area was also filled with temples of classical pagan religion. Towering over all of these was the new temple to the Emperor Caesar. Thus, the question of Jesus’s identity was aptly and significantly posed to his disciples against a myriad of gods and idols.

 Second, consider Peter’s response. The answer Peter accorded to Jesus’s question—”You the Christ, the Son of the living God”—was a title with implications that the original audience knew perfectly well. Peter was describing Jesus as the Promised One who would fulfill the hopes of the nation. The interesting thing, though, is that the original audience was expecting a Messiah or savior who was more of a political figure. Of course, Jesus, the disciples were discovering, was much more than this. He described himself as the divine Son of God, and the salvation he was to bring as something not just for the Jewish nation but for peoples of all nations.

 Peter’s insightful confession was key in the disciples’ eventual recognition of Jesus and the turn of events that would follow. Though given divine insight, Peter was as unaware as the rest of the disciples that the victory of the Messiah they professed would come in the most unexpected way. Yet from here on, God’s plan was further revealed, Jesus’s suffering and impending death more clearly voiced. Jesus revealed that his Messiahship involved taking on the role of the suffering servant as prophesied by the prophet Isaiah. His very identity would ultimately lead him to his cursed death on the Cross.  

 Of course, how Jesus lived and died had implications as to how his followers were to live as well. The earliest Christians understood this very well as many were persecuted for their faith and betrayed by their own families. The laying down of one’s life was a literal reality for those who would become martyrs.

 Today, most of us live in environments where the question “Who do you say that I am?” is still asked in a world of distractions. We live in a context where we have endless options to choose from: a plethora of religions, pleasure and wealth, recognition, and so on. Yet the question is as pressing to us as it was for those who first heard it. Who do we say Christ is? Our response is both personal and public. That is, the confession of allegiance to Christ is both a denial of self-importance and a life of neighbor-importance. 

 Regardless of what we may have been told, the way of Jesus is ultimately the way of the Cross. Signing up with Christ won’t give you worldly benefits, but all the forms of suffering that arise from carrying one’s cross. If we proclaim in our religiously pluralistic context that Christ is supreme over all other gods of this world, we need to be reminded that his supremacy and victory cannot be divorced from the heavy price that he paid.

 Often, like Peter, we tend to expect a Lord who fits our preconceptions or ideas—perhaps one who is always “successful,” or one who is validated by signs and wonders.  Even the disciples were not spared this temptation. All of their questions about who would sit at his right hand and what one would secure from discipleship reveal that they were expecting glory as they walked with the Son. Their expectations likely did not include getting killed.

 However, as they soon learned, any commitment to Christ that does not feature the Cross is merely devotion to an idol, for following Christ is costly. For some, following will mean death itself. It will mean taking up the cross. It will mean living beyond comfort and preference. It will mean stepping out in love and conviction. It may mean undertaking a calling that many will scorn. Choosing to call Jesus the Christ may mean losing our lives, but then, this is the only way to truly live.

 I’Ching Thomas is associate director of training at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Singapore.

 (1) NIV Archaeological Study Bible (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 2005), 1589.

 Morning “God said to Jonah, Doest thou well to be angry?”  Jonah 4:9

 Anger is not always or necessarily sinful, but it has such a tendency to run

wild that whenever it displays itself, we should be quick to question its

character, with this enquiry, “Doest thou well to be angry?” It may be that we

can answer, “YES.” Very frequently anger is the madman’s firebrand, but

sometimes it is Elijah’s fire from heaven. We do well when we are angry with

sin, because of the wrong which it commits against our good and gracious God;

or with ourselves because we remain so foolish after so much divine

instruction; or with others when the sole cause of anger is the evil which

they do. He who is not angry at transgression becomes a partaker in it. Sin is

a loathsome and hateful thing, and no renewed heart can patiently endure it.

God himself is angry with the wicked every day, and it is written in His Word,

“Ye that love the Lord, hate evil.” Far more frequently it is to be feared

that our anger is not commendable or even justifiable, and then we must

answer, “NO.” Why should we be fretful with children, passionate with

servants, and wrathful with companions? Is such anger honourable to our

Christian profession, or glorifying to God? Is it not the old evil heart

seeking to gain dominion, and should we not resist it with all the might of

our newborn nature? Many professors give way to temper as though it were

useless to attempt resistance; but let the believer remember that he must be a

conqueror in every point, or else he cannot be crowned. If we cannot control

our tempers, what has grace done for us? Some one told Mr. Jay that grace was

often grafted on a crab-stump. “Yes,” said he, “but the fruit will not be

crabs.” We must not make natural infirmity an excuse for sin, but we must fly

to the cross and pray the Lord to crucify our tempers, and renew us in

gentleness and meekness after His own image.

 

Evening “When I cry unto thee, then shall mine enemies turn back: this I know; for God

is for me.”  Psalm 56:9

 It is impossible for any human speech to express the full meaning of this

delightful phrase, “God is for me.” He was “for us” before the worlds were

made; he was “for us,” or he would not have given his well-beloved son; he was

“for us” when he smote the Only-begotten, and laid the full weight of his

wrath upon him–he was “for us,” though he was against him; he was “for us,”

when we were ruined in the fall–he loved us notwithstanding all; he was “for

us,” when we were rebels against him, and with a high hand were bidding him

defiance; he was “for us,” or he would not have brought us humbly to seek his

face. He has been “for us” in many struggles; we have been summoned to

encounter hosts of dangers; we have been assailed by temptations from without

and within–how could we have remained unharmed to this hour if he had not

been “for us”? He is “for us,” with all the infinity of his being; with all

the omnipotence of his love; with all the infallibility of his wisdom; arrayed

in all his divine attributes, he is “for us,”–eternally and immutably “for

us”; “for us” when yon blue skies shall be rolled up like a worn out vesture;

“for us” throughout eternity. And because he is “for us,” the voice of prayer

will always ensure his help. “When I cry unto thee, then shall mine enemies be

turned back.” This is no uncertain hope, but a well grounded assurance–“this

I know.” I will direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up for the answer,

assured that it will come, and that mine enemies shall be defeated, “for God

is for me.” O believer, how happy art thou with the King of kings on thy side!

How safe with such a Protector! How sure thy cause pleaded by such an

Advocate! If God be for thee, who can be against thee?

His heavenly kingdom.    2 Timothy 4:18 

The city of the great King is a place of active service. Ransomed spirits serve Him day and night in His temple. They never cease to fulfill the good pleasure of their King. They always rest, so far as ease and freedom from care is concerned, and never rest, in the sense of indolence or inactivity. Jerusalem the golden is the place of communion with all the people of God. We shall sit with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in eternal fellowship. We shall hold high converse with the noble host of the elect, all reigning with Him who by His love and His powerful arm has brought them safely home. We shall not sing solos, but in chorus shall we praise our King. Heaven is a place of victory realized.

Whenever, Christian, you have achieved a victory over your lusts—whenever after hard struggling, you have laid a temptation dead at your feet—you have in that hour a foretaste of the joy that awaits you when the Lord shall soon tread Satan under your feet, and you shall find yourself more than a conqueror through Him who has loved you.

Paradise is a place of security. When you enjoy the full assurance of faith, you have the pledge of that glorious security that shall be yours when you are a perfect citizen of the heavenly Jerusalem. O my sweet home, Jerusalem, happy harbor of my soul! Thanks, even now, to Him whose love has taught me to long for you; but louder thanks in eternity, when I shall possess you.

 My soul has tasted of the grapes,

And now it longs to go

Where my dear Lord His vineyard keeps

And all the clusters grow.

Upon the true and living vine,

My famish’d soul would feast,

And banquet on the fruit divine,

An everlasting guest.

 Family Reading Plan Jeremiah 8 Matthew 22