Acts 13:16-22

King David made several big mistakes in his life. Yet he was called a man after God’s own heart and was mightily used by the Lord to lead the Israelites. What set him apart was the priority he placed on his relationship with the heavenly Father.

David delighted in knowing God and sought Him earnestly. Writing, “My soul thirsts for You, my flesh yearns for You in a dry and weary land,” he declared that God’s love was better than life and pledged to praise Him all his days (Ps. 63:1, 3-4).

David viewed the world from a God-centered perspective. He marveled at the Lord’s creative power in the world, relied on Him for protection and strength, and proclaimed allegiance in his writings. He also prayed fervently and frequently, lifting requests in the morning and expectantly awaiting a response (Ps. 5:3). At night he’d continue communing with God (Ps. 63:6).

Both actions–praying and meditating on God’s character–fueled his trust in the Lord. His faith sustained him throughout life: when he was a shepherd boy protecting sheep from attacks by wild animals, a young man defeating the giant Goliath, and the nation’s anointed leader escaping King Saul’s murderous plans. Whatever his circumstances, he sought the Lord and gave priority to their relationship.

The Psalms record David’s desire to know God and be known by Him. He sought the Lord’s guidance through prayer and had a heart for Him. Jesus invites us to draw near and spend our time learning from Him (Matt. 11:28-29). Have you made following Christ the priority of your life?

 The catchy beat was disarming. Driving down the highway with my hands tapping out the rhythm on my steering wheel, I thought this was just another clever pop tune with bubblegum lyrics. Then the words to the chorus caught my attention:

 “I don’t know what’s right and what’s real anymore
I don’t know how I’m meant to feel anymore
When we think it will all become clear
I’m being taken over by The Fear.”(1)

This song sung by the young British pop star, Lily Allen, was not just another slickly produced tune without substanc. Allen sings of the destructive impact of materialism:

 “I want to be rich and I want lots of money
I want loads of clothes and loads of diamonds
I heard people die while they are trying to find them

 Life’s about film stars and less about mothers
It’s all about fast cars and passing each other
But it doesn’t matter because I’m packing plastic
and that’s what makes my life so fantastic

And I am a weapon of massive consumption
and it’s not my fault it’s how I’m programmed to function
I don’t know what’s right and what’s real anymore
I don’t know how I’m meant to feel anymore
Cause I’m being taken over by fear.”

Among other things, the song laments the vacuity of mindless consumption and its pervasiveness in our society. Consumption, as Allen points out, can be like any other form of addiction, providing an initial high that hooks us, but never again delivers what it promises. Instead, it leads us down the path toward diminishing returns and never ultimately calms our fear.

 Over 200 years before Ms. Allen stepped onto the pop music scene in the United Kingdom, John Wesley articulated the dangers of materialism. “I fear, wherever riches have increased,” he wrote, “the essence of religion has decreased in the same proportion. Therefore, I do not see how it is possible, in the nature of things, for any revival of religion to continue long….[A]s riches increase, so will pride, anger and love of the world in all its branches.”(2) Even as thousands and thousands were joining his ranks, he spoke prophetically about the inevitable decline and dissolution of this revival as a result of the increase of wealth arising from Christian diligence and frugality.

 Indeed, it is well known to students of human societies that an increase in prosperity often brings with it a precipitous decline in religious involvement. After all, why would anyone need God when there is Master Card and Visa?  The declining numbers in churches in the Western World seem to affirm that Wesley’s fears were warranted. Christian leaders speculate that if current trends continue in England, for example, Methodists will cease to exist in that country in thirty years.(3) Of course, long before Wesley uttered his fears, Jesus warned his disciples: “No servant can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one, and love the other, or else he will hold to one, and despise the other. You cannot serve God and riches” (Luke 16:13). Jesus warns of the idolatry that so easily entraps us, luring us away from faithful allegiance.

 We might be tempted to disregard any such warning in times of economic “slow down.” How can people be tempted to serve “the master” of money, after all, when there is so much less of it? Yet even in its absence, we can find our hearts soothed more by money than by God and behold the signs of a dangerous dependence. When our hearts find salvation and security in having more and more material gain—whether we actually hold it or not—we are reminded of “the deceitfulness of riches” and the narcotic effects of material success.

 Thus clearly, the abolition of wealth or production is not the answer to materialism! Rather, the answer Jesus suggests lies in the proper use of wealth in our world: as a blessing for others and not just for our own use. Jesus instructed disciples to “sell your possessions and give to charity; make yourselves purses which do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven….For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Luke 12:33-34).

 John Wesley understood this, too, and in the spirit of Jesus reiterates the same idea: “We ought not to forbid people to be diligent and frugal: we must exhort all Christians, to gain all they can, and to save all they can… What way then (I ask again) can we take that our money may not sink us to the nethermost hell? There is one way, and there is no other under heaven. If those who gain all they can, and save all they can, will likewise give all they can, then the more they gain, the more they will grow in grace, and the more treasure they will lay up in heaven.”(4)

 In difficult economic times, this is far from unnecessary counsel. It may be, in fact, the very idea that finally breaks the chains of addiction and reveals a far better treasure.

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

 (1) Lily Allen, “The Fear” from It’s Not Me, It’s You, Regal Records, United Kingdom, January 26, 2009.
(2) Cited in an article by Philip Yancey, “Traveling with Wesley” Christianity Today, November 2007, vol. 51, No. 11.
(3) Ibid.
(4) Cited from The Works of the Rev. John Wesley, vol. XV (London: Thomas Cordeux, 1786).

 Morning “He left his garment in her hand, and fled, and got him out.” / Genesis 39:12

 In contending with certain sins there remains no mode of victory but by

flight. The ancient naturalists wrote much of basilisks, whose eyes fascinated

their victims and rendered them easy victims; so the mere gaze of wickedness

puts us in solemn danger. He who would be safe from acts of evil must haste

away from occasions of it. A covenant must be made with our eyes not even to

look upon the cause of temptation, for such sins only need a spark to begin

with and a blaze follows in an instant. Who would wantonly enter the leper’s

prison and sleep amid its horrible corruption? He only who desires to be

leprous himself would thus court contagion. If the mariner knew how to avoid a

storm, he would do anything rather than run the risk of weathering it.

Cautious pilots have no desire to try how near the quicksand they can sail, or

how often they may touch a rock without springing a leak; their aim is to keep

as nearly as possible in the midst of a safe channel.

 This day I may be exposed to great peril, let me have the serpent’s wisdom to

keep out of it and avoid it. The wings of a dove may be of more use to me

today than the jaws of a lion. It is true I may be an apparent loser by

declining evil company, but I had better leave my cloak than lose my

character; it is not needful that I should be rich, but it is imperative upon

me to be pure. No ties of friendship, no chains of beauty, no flashings of

talent, no shafts of ridicule must turn me from the wise resolve to flee from

sin. The devil I am to resist and he will flee from me, but the lusts of the

flesh, I must flee, or they will surely overcome me. O God of holiness

preserve thy Josephs, that Madam Bubble bewitch them not with her vile

suggestions. May the horrible trinity of the world, the flesh, and the devil,

never overcome us!

Evening “In their affliction they will seek me early.” / Hosea 5:15

 Losses and adversities are frequently the means which the great Shepherd uses

to fetch home his wandering sheep; like fierce dogs they worry the wanderers

back to the fold. There is no making lions tame if they are too well fed; they

must be brought down from their great strength, and their stomachs must be

lowered, and then they will submit to the tamer’s hand; and often have we seen

the Christian rendered obedient to the Lord’s will by straitness of bread and

hard labour. When rich and increased in goods many professors carry their

heads much too loftily, and speak exceeding boastfully. Like David, they

flatter themselves, “My mountain standeth fast; I shall never be moved.” When

the Christian groweth wealthy, is in good repute, hath good health, and a

happy family, he too often admits Mr. Carnal Security to feast at his table,

and then if he be a true child of God there is a rod preparing for him. Wait

awhile, and it may be you will see his substance melt away as a dream. There

goes a portion of his estate–how soon the acres change hands. That debt, that

dishonoured bill–how fast his losses roll in, where will they end? It is a

blessed sign of divine life if when these embarrassments occur one after

another he begins to be distressed about his backslidings, and betakes himself

to his God. Blessed are the waves that wash the mariner upon the rock of

salvation! Losses in business are often sanctified to our soul’s enriching. If

the chosen soul will not come to the Lord full-handed, it shall come empty. If

God, in his grace, findeth no other means of making us honour him among men,

he will cast us into the deep; if we fail to honour him on the pinnacle of

riches, he will bring us into the valley of poverty. Yet faint not, heir of

sorrow, when thou art thus rebuked, rather recognize the loving hand which

chastens, and say, “I will arise, and go unto my Father.”

His camp is exceedingly great. Joel 2:11 

Consider, my soul, the mightiness of the Lord who is your glory and defense. He is a man of war; Jehovah is His name. All the forces of heaven are at His command; legions wait at His door; cherubim and seraphim, watchers and holy ones, principalities and powers are all attentive to His will. If our eyes were not blinded by the dust of sin, we should see horses of fire and chariots of fire round about the Lord’s servants. The powers of nature are all subject to the absolute control of the Creator: Stormy wind and tempest, lightning and rain, snow and hail, and the soft dews and cheering sunshine come and go at His decree.

The bands of Orion He looses, and He binds the sweet influences of the Pleiades.1 Earth, sea, and air and the places under the earth are the barracks for Jehovah’s great armies; space is His camping ground, light is His banner, and flame is His sword. When He goes forth to war, famine ravages the land, pestilence smites the nations, hurricane sweeps the sea, tornado shakes the mountains, and earthquake makes the solid world to tremble.

As for animate creatures, they all own His dominion, and from the great fish that swallowed the prophet down to “all manner of flies,” which plagued the field of Zoan,2 all are His servants, and even the caterpillars and the worms are squadrons of His great army, for His camp is very great. My soul, see to it that you are at peace with this mighty King. Be sure to enlist under His banner, for to war against Him is madness, and to serve Him is glory.

Jesus, Immanuel, God with us, is ready to receive recruits for the army of the Lord: If I am not already enlisted, let me go to Him before I sleep and beg to be accepted through His merits; and if I be already, as I hope I am, a soldier of the cross, let me be of good courage, for the enemy is powerless compared with my Lord, whose camp is very great.

1Job 38:31 2Psalm 78:43-45

Family Reading Plan Jeremiah 20  Mark 6

Hebrews 4:12-13

Since spiritual discernment is the ability to see life from God’s perspective, it requires that we know how He thinks and acts. The Bible is His unchanging, infallible revelation of Himself. However, the Lord doesn’t simply give us a list of facts about His character and ways. All throughout the pages of Scripture, He illustrates who He is and how He operates.

Although the Bible is ancient, it’s not a dead book. It’s alive and as fresh as if He were speaking directly to you. The stories may have taken place centuries ago, but the principles and applications are current and relevant. It’s our instruction book about how to live. Guidance for decisions and discernment about situations are found from Genesis to Revelation.

God’s Word is active and piercing. The words don’t simply sit on the page. They penetrate our hearts and judge our thoughts and motives. This convicting quality is why some people don’t like to read the Bible. But self-discernment is essential if we don’t want to keep making the same mistakes over and over again. Some Christians live on a surface level, never understanding why they react to situations the way they do. But if we’ll approach the Word of God with an open spirit, it will bring to light our hidden motives and reveal unrecognized sins.

Spiritual discernment involves seeing not just our circumstances but also ourselves from God’s perspective. Have you learned to embrace the piercing sword of Scripture, or have you avoided doing so because it makes you uncomfortable? Remember, God’s Word cuts only so that it can heal.

 Every so often I am too tired to yield to pangs of thirst, and get myself a glass of water before going to sleep for the night. And it is often on these nights that I have the most frustrating dreams (and unsettled sleep). Whether I’m driving through the countryside or solving crimes in Washington, D.C., the events in my dreams carry on as usual. But amidst moving scenes and thickening plots, I am continually stopping to gulp down glass after glass of water. I have even stopped dream conversations in mid-sentence to tell the person I am talking to that I just can’t seem to get enough water. Upon waking the frustrated lesson is palpable. I couldn’t dream my thirst away because my body knew it was real. 

 Apparently such dreams and the dreamers they frustrate are not uncommon. Centuries before me, the prophet Isaiah described them perfectly. “Just as when a hungry person dreams of eating and wakes up still hungry, or a thirsty person dreams of drinking and wakes up faint, still thirsty, so shall the multitude of all the nations be that fight against Mount Zion.”(1) The passage is one of several prophecies God gave Isaiah concerning the nation of Israel. Isaiah was describing the attitude of their invaders, who believed they were tasting victory, but would wake to disappointment. It was a promise to the people of God: those who lick their lips at the thought of their demise will ultimately be frustrated. Certainly there have been, and will continue to be, similar occasions when the world has prematurely celebrated the unraveling of belief and believer. Yet “the trees of the LORD are well watered,” praised the psalmist.

 Even so, though frustrated-thirst was promised of God’s enemies, in the same chapter of Isaiah, God laments over the dry and empty faith of Israel itself. “[T]hese people draw near with their mouths and honor me with their lips, while their hearts are far from me, and their worship of me is a human commandment learned by rote.”(2) They were dreaming of well-running springs and manmade reservoirs, putting the kind of water to their lips that would only leave them thirsty. Isaiah describes a people surrounded by the living waters of the kingdom but preoccupied with make-believe mansions and their pools.

 Today the frustrated dreamer the prophet describes is closer to home than ancient Israel. Dryness of faith and heart is a struggle as unsettling as unquenchable thirst. Spirituality is popular, religion is dismissed, and faith is often obscured or synthetic. At times it is like my dream; we can’t seem to get enough water because we are drinking from artificial wells. Other times dryness comes without explanation. We stand before living water unable to drink and be satisfied, seeing that the well is deep but having nothing left to draw with.

 As a Christian longing to know and to be known by God, dryness of faith does not elude me. An old song written by musician Keith Green has often captured my prayer in the midst of thirst and drought. “My eyes are dry, my faith is old. My heart is hard; my prayers are cold. And I know how I ought to be—alive to You and dead to me. Oh what can be done for an old heart like mine? Soften it up with oil and wine. The oil is You, Your spirit of love. Please wash me anew in the wine of your blood.” Men and women throughout Scripture found similar respite for maddening thirst as they cried out to God within the very pangs of that thirstiness: Our thirst, too, is something we can give to God. Though the land is weary, our hearts faint for the one who promises to reach weariness with sustenance and hunger with an actual meal for bodies that know the difference. “Whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty forever” (John 4:14). To the dry and emptied faith of Israel God provided a spring. And for generations long thereafter, the water of life remains a gift for the thirsty.  

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

(1) Isaiah 29:8. 
(2) Isaiah 29:13. 

 Morning “Stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord.” / Exodus 14:13

 These words contain God’s command to the believer when he is reduced to great

straits and brought into extraordinary difficulties. He cannot retreat; he

cannot go forward; he is shut up on the right hand and on the left; what is he

now to do? The Master’s word to him is, “Stand still.” It will be well for him

if at such times he listens only to his Master’s word, for other and evil

advisers come with their suggestions. Despair whispers, “Lie down and die;

give it all up.” But God would have us put on a cheerful courage, and even in

our worst times, rejoice in his love and faithfulness. Cowardice says,

“Retreat; go back to the worldling’s way of action; you cannot play the

Christian’s part, it is too difficult. Relinquish your principles.” But,

however much Satan may urge this course upon you, you cannot follow it if you

are a child of God. His divine fiat has bid thee go from strength to strength,

and so thou shalt, and neither death nor hell shall turn thee from thy course.

What, if for a while thou art called to stand still, yet this is but to renew

thy strength for some greater advance in due time. Precipitancy cries, “do

something. Stir yourself; to stand still and wait, is sheer idleness.” We must

be doing something at once–we must do it so we think–instead of looking to

the Lord, who will not only do something but will do everything. Presumption

boasts, “If the sea be before you, march into it and expect a miracle.” But

Faith listens neither to Presumption, nor to Despair, nor to Cowardice, nor to

Precipitancy, but it hears God say, “Stand still,” and immovable as a rock it

stands. “Stand still;”–keep the posture of an upright man, ready for action,

expecting further orders, cheerfully and patiently awaiting the directing

voice; and it will not be long ere God shall say to you, as distinctly as

Moses said it to the people of Israel, “Go forward.”

Evening  “His camp is very great.” / Joel 2:11

 Consider, my soul, the mightiness of the Lord who is thy glory and defence. He

is a man of war, Jehovah is his name. All the forces of heaven are at his

beck, legions wait at his door, cherubim and seraphim;, watchers and holy

ones, principalities and powers, are all attentive to his will. If our eyes

were not blinded by the ophthalmia of the flesh, we should see horses of fire

and chariots of fire round about the Lord’s beloved. The powers of nature are

all subject to the absolute control of the Creator: stormy wind and tempest,

lightning and rain, and snow, and hail, and the soft dews and cheering

sunshine, come and go at his decree. The bands of Orion he looseth, and

bindeth the sweet influences of the Pleiades. Earth, sea, and air, and the

places under the earth, are the barracks for Jehovah’s great armies; space is

his camping ground, light is his banner, and flame is his sword. When he goeth

forth to war, famine ravages the land, pestilence smites the nations,

hurricane sweeps the sea, tornado shakes the mountains, and earthquake makes

the solid world to tremble. As for animate creatures, they all own his

dominion, and from the great fish which swallowed the prophet, down to “all

manner of flies,” which plagued the field of Zoan, all are his servants, and

like the palmer-worm, the caterpillar, and the cankerworm, are squadrons of

his great army, for his camp is very great. My soul, see to it that thou be at

peace with this mighty King, yea, more, be sure to enlist under his banner,

for to war against him is madness, and to serve him is glory. Jesus, Immanuel,

God with us, is ready to receive recruits for the army of the Lord: if I am

not already enlisted let me go to him ere I sleep, and beg to be accepted

through his merits; and if I be already, as I hope I am, a soldier of the

cross, let me be of good courage; for the enemy is powerless compared with my

Lord, whose camp is very great.

‘Behold the man!’   1 John 1:7 

 “Cleanses,” says the text—not “shall cleanse.” There are multitudes who think that as a dying hope they may look forward to pardon. Oh, how infinitely better to have cleansing now than to depend on the bare possibility of forgiveness when I come to die.

Some imagine that a sense of pardon is an attainment only obtainable after many years of Christian experience. But forgiveness of sin is a present reality—a privilege for this day, a joy for this very hour. The moment a sinner trusts Jesus he is fully forgiven. The text, being written in the present tense, also indicates continuance; it was “cleanses” yesterday, it is “cleanses” today, it will be “cleanses” tomorrow. This is the way it will always be with you, Christian, until you cross the river; every hour you may come to this fountain, for it cleanses still.

Notice, likewise, the completeness of the cleansing: “The blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin”—not only from sin, but “from all sin.” Reader, I cannot convey the exceeding sweetness of this word, but I pray that God the Holy Ghost will give you a taste of it. Manifold are our sins against God. Whether the bill be little or great, the same receipt can discharge one as the other. The blood of Jesus Christ is as blessed and divine a payment for the transgressions of blaspheming Peter as for the shortcomings of loving John.

Our iniquity is gone, all gone at once, and all gone forever. Blessed completeness! What a sweet theme to dwell upon as one gives himself to sleep.

Sins against a holy God;

Sins against His righteous laws;

Sins against His love, His blood;

Sins against His name and cause;

Sins immense as is the sea—

From them all He cleanseth me.

Family Reading Plan   Jeremiah 19   Mark 5

John 15:12-15

In all of God’s creation, just one thing did not meet with His approval. He looked upon Adam, who was the only being of his kind, and said, “It is not good for the man to be alone” (Gen. 2:18). The Creator designed people for emotional, mental, and physical intimacy so they’d be able to share their innermost selves with one another.

Jesus explained this to His disciples, saying they should love each other as He had loved them. In a God-honoring friendship, two people build each other up and spur one another toward Christlikeness. Many people, however, fall far short of making and maintaining relationships that sharpen their faith (Prov. 27:17). They instead welcome the trivial talk of casual acquaintances: the weather, tough bosses, and world affairs are safe topics. Sadly, believers often shy away from the penetrating conversations about sin, accountability, and biblical living that would serve to enrich their faith.

Strong relationships begin with men and women who decide to risk their pride and comfort in order to love as Jesus does. They recognize that friends are meant to motivate one another toward holiness. In a friendship of mutual trust and submission, two people will confess sin, offer gentle reproof, and share burdens.

The walls we build to keep people at a distance are often defenses against God as well: we don’t want Him too close to our most personal business. But as believers learn to share openly and freely with a brother or sister in Christ, they develop the capacity to be more honest with God.

 “The most important thing to be said about awards,” an anonymous voice once uttered, “is that Mozart never got one.” The statement draws into sharp distinction the often-troublesome quality about recognition: sometimes the most deserving candidates for praise are overlooked. (And the victim we notice most often is usually ourselves!) 

 By the age of six, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was an accomplished performer and a promising composer.  In his lifetime he was commissioned to compose an opera, made a member of an honorary knightly order by the Pope, and was given membership by the Accademia Filarmonica despite their policy requiring candidates to be 20 years old. But he was not rewarded with the pomp and circumstance we might imagine for someone of his rare giftedness. He was not given a lifetime achievement award or presented with anything remotely comparable to a Grammy. Close to destitute at the time of his death, Mozart was given a third-class funeral. 

 Throughout the gospels Jesus can be heard reminding disciples, crowds, and Pharisees that the most important thing to remember about the things we do is that there is almost always a motive for recognition behind it. “When you give to the needy,” he told them, “do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets.”(1) Significantly, he makes the same comment regarding prayer, and also about fasting.  

 In each example Jesus offers, he doesn’t tell us that the human hope for recognition is wrong. On the contrary, he explains that within our hope, we can seek to be honored by humanity or seek something more lasting. Regarding those who make certain their actions are known and admired by the right people, Jesus explains that they have essentially received their reward in full. But if when giving to the needy, being the bigger person, putting another before yourself, he notes, you “do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret, then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”(2) Where the motive is the honor of God and not personal recognition or gain, we store up something that can neither be destroyed nor stolen, something far more weighty than notoriety, wealth, or praise.

 And yet, as the thought of an award-less Mozart reminds us, labor unnoticed, hard work unappreciated, and fruit unseen are sometimes disturbing realities. The promising rewards of the wisdom of Jesus seem to promise an uncomfortably delayed response. 

 Here, the weariness that might come from not seeing the fruit of our laboring, the results of our fervent prayer, or our life’s greatest efforts is a reality we must wrestle with—and not alone. The prophet Isaiah once lamented, “I have labored to no purpose; I have spent my strength in vain and for nothing. Yet what is due me is in the LORD’s hand, and my reward is with my God.” Isaiah was further comforted by God’s response to this recognition of reward in the hands of a greater giver: “Yes, kings shall see and arise; princes, and they shall prostrate themselves; because of the LORD, who is faithful, the Holy One of Israel, who has chosen you.”(3)

 In Isaiah’s efforts to serve God and people, though he struggled with a nation that did not honor him, he was reminded that God was the one delving out the better gifts. Though it seemed his efforts were in vain, there was yet a purpose, whether he would see it in the time and fashion he hoped for or not. Fruit would come; a different hope would unexpectedly surface; and God would be glorified in his decision to labor for heaven. So it is with those who choose to follow after lesser titles for the sake of a greater bestower. Thus as another laborer warns, “Watch out that you do not lose what you have worked for, but that you may be rewarded fully.”(4) Perhaps the most important thing to be said about awards is that we are looking to things unseen—great and unsearchable gifts from one who knows you better than any Grammy can attest.

 Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.
 (1) Matthew 6:2. 
(2) Matthew 6:2-4.
(3) Isaiah 49:4, 7.
(4) 2 John 1:8

 Morning “The daughter of Jerusalem hath shaken her head at thee.” / Isaiah 37:22

Reassured by the Word of the Lord, the poor trembling citizens of Zion grew

bold, and shook their heads at Sennacherib’s boastful threats. Strong faith

enables the servants of God to look with calm contempt upon their most haughty

foes. We know that our enemies are attempting impossibilities. They seek to

destroy the eternal life, which cannot die while Jesus lives; to overthrow the

citadel, against which the gates of hell shall not prevail. They kick against

the pricks to their own wounding, and rush upon the bosses of Jehovah’s

buckler to their own hurt.

 We know their weakness. What are they but men? And what is man but a worm?

They roar and swell like waves of the sea, foaming out their own shame. When

the Lord ariseth, they shall fly as chaff before the wind, and be consumed as

crackling thorns. Their utter powerlessness to do damage to the cause of God

and his truth, may make the weakest soldiers in Zion’s ranks laugh them to

scorn.

 Above all, we know that the Most High is with us, and when he dresses himself

in arms, where are his enemies? If he cometh forth from his place, the

potsherds of the earth will not long contend with their Maker. His rod of iron

shall dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel, and their very remembrance

shall perish from the earth. Away, then, all fears, the kingdom is safe in the

King’s hands. Let us shout for joy, for the Lord reigneth, and his foes shall

be as straw for the dunghill.

 “As true as God’s own word is true;

 Nor earth, nor hell, with all their crew,

 Against us shall prevail.

 A jest, and by-word, are they grown;

 God is with us, we are his own,

 Our victory cannot fail.”

Evening “Why go I mourning?” / Psalm 42:9

 Canst thou answer this, believer? Canst thou find any reason why thou art so

often mourning instead of rejoicing? Why yield to gloomy anticipations? Who

told thee that the night would never end in day? Who told thee that the sea of

circumstances would ebb out till there should be nothing left but long leagues

of the mud of horrible poverty? Who told thee that the winter of thy

discontent would proceed from frost to frost, from snow, and ice, and hail, to

deeper snow, and yet more heavy tempest of despair? Knowest thou not that day

follows night, that flood comes after ebb, that spring and summer succeed

winter? Hope thou then! Hope thou ever! For God fails thee not. Dost thou not

know that thy God loves thee in the midst of all this? Mountains, when in

darkness hidden, are as real as in day, and God’s love is as true to thee now

as it was in thy brightest moments. No father chastens always: thy Lord hates

the rod as much as thou dost; he only cares to use it for that reason which

should make thee willing to receive it, namely, that it works thy lasting

good. Thou shalt yet climb Jacob’s ladder with the angels, and behold him who

sits at the top of it–thy covenant God. Thou shalt yet, amidst the splendours

of eternity, forget the trials of time, or only remember them to bless the God

who led thee through them, and wrought thy lasting good by them. Come, sing in

the midst of tribulation. Rejoice even while passing through the furnace. Make

the wilderness to blossom like the rose! Cause the desert to ring with thine

exulting joys, for these light afflictions will soon be over, and then

“forever with the Lord,” thy bliss shall never wane.

 “Faint not nor fear, his arms are near,

 He changeth not, and thou art dear;

 Only believe and thou shalt see,

 That Christ is all in all to thee.”

And now what do you gain by going to Egypt to drink the waters of the Nile?   Jeremiah 2:18 

By different miracles, by various mercies, by strange deliverances Jehovah had proved Himself to be worthy of Israel’s trust. Yet they broke down the hedges with which God had enclosed them as a sacred garden; they forsook their own true and living God and followed after false gods. Constantly the Lord reproved them for this infatuation, and our text displays God’s remonstrating with them, “And now what do you gain by going to Egypt to drink the waters of the Nile?” “Why are you wandering and leaving your own cool stream? Why do you forsake Jerusalem and turn aside to the wasteland? Why are you so strangely set on mischief that you cannot be content with what is good and healthy, but instead chase after what is evil and deceitful?” Is there not here a word of exposition and warning to the Christian?

O true believer, called by grace and washed in the precious blood of Jesus, you have tasted a better drink than the muddy river of this world’s pleasure. You have fellowship with Christ; you have obtained the joy of seeing Jesus and resting in His loving embrace. Do the trifles, the songs, the honors, the merriment of this earth content you after that? Have you eaten the bread of angels, and can you live on scraps?

Good Rutherford once said, “I have tasted of Christ’s own manna, and it has put my mouth out of taste for the brown bread of this world’s joys.” I think it should be so with you. If you are wandering after the waters of Egypt, O return quickly to the one living fountain: The waters of the Nile may be sweet to the Egyptians, but they will prove only bitterness to you. What have you to do with them? Jesus asks you this question this evening—what will you answer Him?

Family Reading Plan Jeremiah 16   Mark 2

 It would be hard to underestimate the significance of Jesus. No other person has had a greater historical impact. Even those who aren’t Christians acknowledge this: Muslims revere Jesus as a prophet. Hindus consider him a holy teacher. Even many atheists are very willing to say they admire Jesus; for example, Christopher Hitchens once said he respects “the virtue of his teachings.”

 Yet a common skeptical remark you hear is that we can’t really know anything about who Jesus actually was. He was probably a great guy, but the early Christians invented so many stories about him that we have no way of separating what’s true in the Bible from what’s false. Most skeptics don’t realize, however, that academic historians take Jesus very seriously. We’re talking historians, not theologians; not least, because we have so many historical sources for Jesus. Many people don’t realize the New Testament is a collection of books, for example, and represents multiple sources about Jesus. Many are very early—for example, Paul’s letters date to the 40s and 50s AD and some of the material he quotes is dated even earlier, to within months of Jesus’s death.

 Literary studies of the gospels have also shown that their authors were intentionally setting out to write biography—not fiction or hagiography. Where we can test them against archaeology or other historians of the period, they’re shown to be reliable. Thus, historians take Jesus seriously. No credentialed academic historian in a university ancient history department would suggest that Jesus never existed, for instance. Throw out Jesus and you would have to throw out a wealth of other historical figures for whom less evidence exists, such as Julius Caesar.

 In recent decades, there has been a renewed interest in the study of the “historical Jesus,” by which we mean what we can say about Jesus using the methods and tools of the historian. There are a wide number of facts upon which historians agree. To list just a few, it is generally agreed that Jesus was raised in Nazareth. That he was baptized by John. That he had twelve disciples. That he had a reputation as a healer and miracle worker. That he taught in parables and stories. That he clashed with the religious authorities of his day. That he spent time with social outcasts. That he had an extremely high view of his own identity and his relationship to God. That at the end of his ministry he rode into Jerusalem, was hailed by many as the Messiah, performed some kind of prophetic action in the Temple for which he was arrested, tried, and executed. It’s simply not the case, in other words, that Jesus’s life was invented decades after his death by well meaning Christians. And that means we are forced to take the life of Jesus very seriously—at the very least, we need to read the gospels as we would other ancient literature and weigh them accordingly.

 And that brings us face to face with Jesus himself: a Jesus who made astonishing claims about himself. C S Lewis once famously said that Jesus left us only three options. Either he was mad—utterly insane. Or he was bad—a cynical liar. Or else Jesus was who he claimed to be. Whilst this threefold choice may slightly over simplify things, the broad thrust is right. Jesus forces all of us to answer the same question he asked Peter in the Gospels: “Who do you say I am?” One thing is certain: Jesus has left a powerful footprint on history, too great to ignore. “Who do you say that I am?” The answer each of us gives to that question matters profoundly.

 Andy Bannister is a member of the speaking team at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Toronto, Canada.

 Morning “The earnest of our inheritance.” / Ephesians 1:14

 Oh! what enlightenment, what joys, what consolation, what delight of heart is

experienced by that man who has learned to feed on Jesus, and on Jesus alone.

Yet the realization which we have of Christ’s preciousness is, in this life,

imperfect at the best. As an old writer says, “‘Tis but a taste!” We have

tasted “that the Lord is gracious,” but we do not yet know how good and

gracious he is, although what we know of his sweetness makes us long for more.

We have enjoyed the firstfruits of the Spirit, and they have set us hungering

and thirsting for the fulness of the heavenly vintage. We groan within

ourselves, waiting for the adoption. Here we are like Israel in the

wilderness, who had but one cluster from Eshcol, there we shall be in the

vineyard. Here we see the manna falling small, like coriander seed, but there

shall we eat the bread of heaven and the old corn of the kingdom. We are but

beginners now in spiritual education; for although we have learned the first

letters of the alphabet, we cannot read words yet, much less can we put

sentences together; but as one says, “He that has been in heaven but five

minutes, knows more than the general assembly of divines on earth.” We have

many ungratified desires at present, but soon every wish shall be satisfied;

and all our powers shall find the sweetest employment in that eternal world of

joy. O Christian, antedate heaven for a few years. Within a very little time

thou shalt be rid of all thy trials and thy troubles. Thine eyes now suffused

with tears shall weep no longer. Thou shalt gaze in ineffable rapture upon the

splendour of him who sits upon the throne. Nay, more, upon his throne shalt

thou sit. The triumph of his glory shall be shared by thee; his crown, his

joy, his paradise, these shall be thine, and thou shalt be co-heir with him

who is the heir of all things.

Evening “And now what hast thou to do in the way of Egypt, to drink the waters of

Sihor?” / Jeremiah 2:18

 By sundry miracles, by divers mercies, by strange deliverances Jehovah had

proved himself to be worthy of Israel’s trust. Yet they broke down the hedges

with which God had enclosed them as a sacred garden; they forsook their own

true and living God, and followed after false gods. Constantly did the Lord

reprove them for this infatuation, and our text contains one instance of God’s

expostulating with them, “What hast thou to do in the way of Egypt, to drink

the waters of the muddy river?”–for so it may be translated. “Why dost thou

wander afar and leave thine own cool stream from Lebanon? Why dost thou

forsake Jerusalem to turn aside to Noph and to Tahapanes? Why art thou so

strangely set on mischief, that thou canst not be content with the good and

healthful, but wouldst follow after that which is evil and deceitful?” Is

there not here a word of expostulation and warning to the Christian? O true

believer, called by grace and washed in the precious blood of Jesus, thou hast

tasted of better drink than the muddy river of this world’s pleasure can give

thee; thou hast had fellowship with Christ; thou hast obtained the joy of

seeing Jesus, and leaning thine head upon his bosom. Do the trifles, the

songs, the honours, the merriment of this earth content thee after that? Hast

thou eaten the bread of angels, and canst thou live on husks? Good Rutherford

once said, “I have tasted of Christ’s own manna, and it hath put my mouth out

of taste for the brown bread of this world’s joys.” Methinks it should be so

with thee. If thou art wandering after the waters of Egypt, O return quickly

to the one living fountain: the waters of Sihor may be sweet to the Egyptians,

but they will prove only bitterness to thee. What hast thou to do with them?

Jesus asks thee this question this evening–what wilt thou answer him?

 A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not quench. Matthew 12:20 

What is weaker than the bruised reed or the smoldering wick? A reed that grows in the marshland—let a wild duck land on it, and it snaps; let but the foot of man brush against it, and it is bruised and broken; every wind that flits across the river moves it to and fro. You can conceive of nothing more frail or brittle or whose existence is more in jeopardy than a bruised reed. Then look at the smoldering wick—what is it? It has a spark within it, it is true, but it is almost smothered; an infant’s breath might blow it out; nothing has a more precarious existence than its flame.

Weak things are here described; yet Jesus says of them, “The smoldering wick I will not quench; the bruised reed I will not break.” Some of God’s children are made strong to do mighty works for Him; God has His Samsons here and there who can pull up Gaza’s gates and carry them to the top of the hill. He has a few mighties who are lionlike men, but the majority of His people are a timid, trembling race. They are like starlings, frightened at every passerby, a little fearful flock. If temptation comes, they are taken like birds in a snare; if trial threatens, they are ready to faint. Their frail craft is tossed up and down by every wave; they drift along like a seabird on the crest of the billows—weak things, without strength, without wisdom, without foresight. Yet, weak as they are, and because they are so weak, they have this promise made especially to them.

Herein is grace and graciousness! Herein is love and loving-kindness! How it opens to us the compassion of Jesus—so gentle, tender, considerate! We need never shrink back from His touch. We need never fear a harsh word from Him; though He might well chide us for our weakness, He rebukes not. Bruised reeds shall have no blows from Him, and the smoldering wick no damping frowns.

Family Reading Plan  Jeremiah 15   Mark 1

 2 Peter 3:17-18

No matter how far away from God you have drifted, you’re always welcome back. That’s the lesson from Jesus’ parable about the prodigal son–the foolish boy who followed a pleasure-filled path to ruin before returning to his father and finding redemption (Luke 15:11-32). Perhaps ruin has not yet come to you, but you know that your heart has grown cool to the things of God. Whatever your drifting story, make this the day that you point yourself back to the Lord.

As with any sin, the first motion toward getting back on course is to acknowledge that you have slipped away from the Lord. Then you confess and repent, which is like turning your boat in the opposite direction and paddling toward God with all your strength. If you’re wondering exactly how to do that, I suggest a strategy I use every morning. Before I step out of bed, I give myself to God by acknowledging, I surrender my entire life to You for this day. When something comes up that runs counter to His plan and I consider pursuing it, the Holy Spirit reminds me that I am not my own. Only God’s way will do for me.

Every day we choose whether to row or drift. As for me, I choose to vigorously pursue God.

Peter gives a warning to be on guard against attitudes and ideologies that would carry you away from truth (2 Peter 3:17). Instead, choose to paddle your lifeboat toward the Lord by meditating on Scripture, praying, and living obediently. Practicing the spiritual disciplines keeps a heart warm toward God.

 The emergence of the Church, the emergence of followers even after Christ’s death, despite intense opposition and even brutal persecution, is an enigma. Or, in the words of professor C.F.D. Moule of Cambridge University, it “rips a great hole in history, a hole of the size and shape of the Resurrection.” The book of Acts offers the first glimpses of that great hole. 

 In it, we find a high priest filled with rage. Jesus was no longer among them, but the disciples continued to fill Jerusalem with his teaching. The high priest had strictly charged the apostles not to teach of Jesus, yet they continued preaching to the crowds and healing the sick, and multitudes were professing belief in Christ. So the high priest had them all arrested, and setting them before the council, he questioned them harshly. Peter answered exactly as he preached: “We must obey God rather than men. The God of our fathers raised Jesus… exalting him at his right hand as Leader and Savior, to give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins. And we are witnesses to these things and so is the Holy Spirit, whom God has given to those who obey him.”(1)

 At his words, the council was enraged, and some wanted to kill them.  But a Pharisee named Gamaliel, a teacher of the law held in honor by all the people, stood up to speak, first instructing that the apostles be led out of the room.  And he said to them, “Men of Israel, take care what you are about to do with these men.” 

 Gamaliel’s words introduce a logic often overlooked; he reminded them that this had happened before. He reminded them to look at history. “Before these days, Theudas rose up,” he countered, “claiming to be somebody, and about four hundred men even joined him. But he was killed, and all who followed him were dispersed and came to nothing.” And after Theudas, Gamaliel warned, there were similar stories. “So in the present case I tell you, keep away from these men and let them alone, for if this plan or this undertaking is of man, it will fail;but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them. You might even be found opposing God!”(2)

 Though the growth of the Church alone is not enough to conclude the veracity of Christ’s resurrection, it is evidence that would be irresponsible to ignore. The apostles were aware that the message of the Cross is foolishness. They made choices to continue preaching despite the orders of the high priest and the often-severe persecution they faced. They changed social and religious practices that had been followed for centuries. They refused to give in; they would not be overthrown.    

 The birth and rapid rise of Christ’s followers after the offensive death of their leader fails to make sense outside of the explanation the Church itself offers: they were witnesses of these altogether unfathomable events. The message they were teaching was true. Christ was raised and death was stopped, while the disciples looked on. They were witnesses of God’s power, and they went to their deaths proclaiming it, choosing to obey God rather than man. 

 Christ left in history a hole the size and shape of the Resurrection. With what explanation will you attempt to fill it? 

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

 (1) Acts 5:29-32.
(2) Acts 5:38, 39.

 Morning “The Lord our God hath shewed us his glory.” / Deuteronomy 5:24

 God’s great design in all his works is the manifestation of his own glory. Any

aim less than this were unworthy of himself. But how shall the glory of God be

manifested to such fallen creatures as we are? Man’s eye is not single, he has

ever a side glance towards his own honour, has too high an estimate of his own

powers, and so is not qualified to behold the glory of the Lord. It is clear,

then, that self must stand out of the way, that there may be room for God to

be exalted; and this is the reason why he bringeth his people ofttimes into

straits and difficulties, that, being made conscious of their own folly and

weakness, they may be fitted to behold the majesty of God when he comes forth

to work their deliverance. He whose life is one even and smooth path, will see

but little of the glory of the Lord, for he has few occasions of

self-emptying, and hence, but little fitness for being filled with the

revelation of God. They who navigate little streams and shallow creeks, know

but little of the God of tempests; but they who “do business in great waters,”

these see his “wonders in the deep.” Among the huge Atlantic-waves of

bereavement, poverty, temptation, and reproach, we learn the power of Jehovah,

because we feel the littleness of man. Thank God, then, if you have been led

by a rough road: it is this which has given you your experience of God’s

greatness and lovingkindness. Your troubles have enriched you with a wealth of

knowledge to be gained by no other means: your trials have been the cleft of

the rock in which Jehovah has set you, as he did his servant Moses, that you

might behold his glory as it passed by. Praise God that you have not been left

to the darkness and ignorance which continued prosperity might have involved,

but that in the great fight of affliction, you have been capacitated for the

outshinings of his glory in his wonderful dealings with you.

Evening “A bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall he not quench.” / Matthew 12:20

 What is weaker than the bruised reed or the smoking flax? A reed that groweth

in the fen or marsh, let but the wild duck light upon it, and it snaps; let

but the foot of man brush against it, and it is bruised and broken; every wind

that flits across the river moves it to and fro. You can conceive of nothing

more frail or brittle, or whose existence is more in jeopardy, than a bruised

reed. Then look at the smoking flax–what is it? It has a spark within it, it

is true, but it is almost smothered; an infant’s breath might blow it out;

nothing has a more precarious existence than its flame. Weak things are here

described, yet Jesus says of them, “The smoking flax I will not quench; the

bruised reed I will not break.” Some of God’s children are made strong to do

mighty works for him; God has his Samsons here and there who can pull up

Gaza’s gates, and carry them to the top of the hill; he has a few mighties who

are lion-like men, but the majority of his people are a timid, trembling race.

They are like starlings, frightened at every passer by; a little fearful

flock. If temptation comes, they are taken like birds in a snare; if trial

threatens, they are ready to faint; their frail skiff is tossed up and down by

every wave, they are drifted along like a sea bird on the crest of the

billows–weak things, without strength, without wisdom, without foresight.

Yet, weak as they are, and because they are so weak, they have this promise

made specially to them. Herein is grace and graciousness! Herein is love and

lovingkindness! How it opens to us the compassion of Jesus–so gentle, tender,

considerate! We need never shrink back from his touch. We need never fear a

harsh word from him; though he might well chide us for our weakness, he

rebuketh not. Bruised reeds shall have no blows from him, and the smoking flax

no damping frowns.

They [locusts] do not jostle one another; each marches in his path.   Joel 2:8 

 Locusts always keep their rank, and although their number is legion, they do not crowd upon each other, so as to throw their columns into confusion. This remarkable fact in natural history shows how thoroughly the Lord has infused the spirit of order into His universe, since the smallest animate creatures are as much controlled by it as are the rolling spheres or the angelic throng. It would be wise for believers to be ruled by the same influence in all their spiritual life.

In their Christian graces no one virtue should usurp the sphere of another or feed off the rest for its own support. Affection must not smother honesty, courage must not elbow weakness out of the field, modesty must not jostle energy, and patience must not slaughter resolution. So also with our duties. One must not interfere with another; public usefulness must not injure private piety; church work must not push family worship into a corner. It is wrong to offer God one duty stained with the blood of another. Each thing is beautiful in its season, but not otherwise.

The same rule applies to our personal position. We must take care to know our place, take it, and keep to it. We must minister as the Spirit has given us ability, and not intrude upon our fellow servant’s domain. Our Lord Jesus taught us not to covet the high places, but to be willing to be the least among our brothers and sisters. Let us say no to an envious, ambitious spirit; let us feel the force of the Master’s command and do as He bids us, keeping in step with the rest of the company. Tonight let us see whether we are keeping the unity of the Spirit in the bonds of peace, and let our prayer be that in all the churches of the Lord Jesus peace and order may prevail.

Family Reading Plan  Jeremiah 14 Matthew 28

 Why Won’t God Heal Amputees? is a popular website and one-time viral YouTube video. The basic premise of the content is that God doesn’t answer prayer since God has never healed an amputee, and by extension doesn’t heal every person of every infirmity. God, therefore, does not really exist.

 While there are obvious false assumptions made about God, prayer, and healing (how does one know that in the whole world God has not healed an amputee, for starters) many who do pray for healing often fail to experience it in the way they expect. Healing rarely parallels a conventional or traditional sense of that word. Loved ones die of cancer, friends are killed in car accidents, economic catastrophe befalls even the most frugal, and people in much of the developing world die from diseases long cured in the West. Beyond the realm of physical healing, many experience emotional and psychological trauma that leave open and festering wounds. Or, there are those perpetual personality ticks and quirks that seem beyond the reach of the supernatural. Given all of this contrary experience, what does it mean to receive healing, and should one hold out hope that healing can come in this world? Specifically, for those who pray, and for those who believe that God does heal, how might the persistence of wounds—psychological, emotional and physical—be understood?    

 In a recent New York Times article, Marcia Mount Shoop writes of her horrific rape as a fifteen year-old girl.(1) A descendant of three generations of ministers, she ran to the safest place she knew—the church. Yet as she stood amid the congregants singing hymns and reciting creeds, she felt no relief. Even her favorite verse from Romans—”And we know that in all things God works for good with those who love him”—sounded hollow and brought little comfort. How could she ever be healed of this horrific act of violence perpetrated against her will?   

Once at home, alone with the secret of her rape, Marcia Shoop found something that enabled her to survive. “I felt Jesus so close,” she recalled in an interview. “It wasn’t the same Jesus I experienced at church. It was this tiny, audible whisper that said, ‘I know what happened. I understand.’ And it kept me alive, that frayed little thread.” (2)

 The hope that Jesus was physically close to her in her pain led Ms. Shoop to become a minister herself more than a quarter century after her horrific rape. It also led her to more deeply connect her body with her soul and mind. This reconnection of the body with soul and with mind is where she experienced what she would call “healing.” God was with her in the living, breathing, physical reality of Jesus who likewise continued to bear the wounds of his own crucifixion and torture after the gospel writers testify to him having been raised from the dead. 

The gospel of John records the risen Jesus as inviting Thomas to “reach your finger and see my hands; and reach your hand, and put it into my side.”(3) Jesus was not a disembodied spirit without flesh and blood as a result of his resurrection from the dead. He was a body, and a body that was wounded. Even the resurrection did not take away his bodily scars! This reality can bring great hope to those who follow Jesus and to those who wonder about how they might find healing at all. For healing did equate a lack of wounding, or physical perfection—being untouched by the sorrow and suffering of a world gone horribly wrong—even for Jesus.

 For Ms. Shoop, healing didn’t mean the total erasure of the pain and horror of her rape, as difficult as it was to bear that wound. But it meant that she encountered the wounded God in the person of Jesus who continued to bear the scars and wounds of his crucifixion. As she recalled, “What happened to me wasn’t “for the good,” referring again to her favorite passage in Romans. But God took the garbage, the stench [of that horrible event] and gently, tenderly, indignantly wove it into this moment of redemption. What a gift.”(4)

 Healing is not a gift that comes instantly, nor does it always look like what we expect. It is often a slow, painful journey through the void and desolation of suffering. It will not erase our wounds. Yet, the promise of resurrection, of new life that comes even with wounded hands and sides, offers another picture of healing where our humanity is honored and redeemed.

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

 (1) Samuel G. Freedman, “A Rape Survivor Now Ministers Body and Soul,” The New York Times Online, June 29, 2012, accessed June 29, 2012.
(2) Ibid.
(3) John 20:27.
(4) Samuel G. Freedman, “A Rape Survivor Now Ministers Body and Soul,” The New York Times Online, June 29, 2012, accessed June 29, 2012.