Morning “After that ye have suffered awhile, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen,

settle you.” 1 Peter 5:10

 You have seen the arch of heaven as it spans the plain: glorious are its

colours, and rare its hues. It is beautiful, but, alas, it passes away, and

lo, it is not. The fair colours give way to the fleecy clouds, and the sky is

no longer brilliant with the tints of heaven. It is not established. How can

it be? A glorious show made up of transitory sun-beams and passing rain-drops,

how can it abide? The graces of the Christian character must not resemble the

rainbow in its transitory beauty, but, on the contrary, must be stablished,

settled, abiding. Seek, O believer, that every good thing you have may be an

abiding thing. May your character not be a writing upon the sand, but an

inscription upon the rock! May your faith be no “baseless fabric of a vision,”

but may it be builded of material able to endure that awful fire which shall

consume the wood, hay, and stubble of the hypocrite. May you be rooted and

grounded in love. May your convictions be deep, your love real, your desires

earnest. May your whole life be so settled and established, that all the

blasts of hell, and all the storms of earth shall never be able to remove you.

But notice how this blessing of being “stablished in the faith” is gained. The

apostle’s words point us to suffering as the means employed–“After that ye

have suffered awhile.” It is of no use to hope that we shall be well rooted if

no rough winds pass over us. Those old gnarlings on the root of the oak tree,

and those strange twistings of the branches, all tell of the many storms that

have swept over it, and they are also indicators of the depth into which the

roots have forced their way. So the Christian is made strong, and firmly

rooted by all the trials and storms of life. Shrink not then from the

tempestuous winds of trial, but take comfort, believing that by their rough

discipline God is fulfilling this benediction to you.

Evening “Tell ye your children of it, and let your children tell their children, and

their children another generation.” Joel 1:3  

In this simple way, by God’s grace, a living testimony for truth is always to

be kept alive in the land–the beloved of the Lord are to hand down their

witness for the gospel, and the covenant to their heirs, and these again to

their next descendants. This is our first duty, we are to begin at the family

hearth: he is a bad preacher who does not commence his ministry at home. The

heathen are to be sought by all means, and the highways and hedges are to be

searched, but home has a prior claim, and woe unto those who reverse the order

of the Lord’s arrangements. To teach our children is a personal duty; we

cannot delegate it to Sunday school teachers, or other friendly aids; these

can assist us, but cannot deliver us from the sacred obligation; proxies and

sponsors are wicked devices in this case: mothers and fathers must, like

Abraham, command their households in the fear of God, and talk with their

offspring concerning the wondrous works of the Most High. Parental teaching is

a natural duty–who so fit to look to the child’s well-being as those who are

the authors of his actual being? To neglect the instruction of our offspring

is worse than brutish. Family religion is necessary for the nation, for the

family itself, and for the church of God. By a thousand plots Popery is

covertly advancing in our land, and one of the most effectual means for

resisting its inroads is left almost neglected, namely, the instruction of

children in the faith. Would that parents would awaken to a sense of the

importance of this matter. It is a pleasant duty to talk of Jesus to our sons

and daughters, and the more so because it has often proved to be an accepted

work, for God has saved the children through the parents’ prayers and

admonitions. May every house into which this volume shall come honour the Lord

and receive his smile.

And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.  Genesis 1:5 

The evening was “darkness,” and the morning was “light,” and yet the two together are called by the name that is given to the light alone! This is somewhat remarkable, but it has an exact analogy in spiritual experience. In every believer there is darkness and light, and yet he is not to be named a sinner because there is sin in him, but he is to be named a saint because he possesses some degree of holiness. This will be a most comforting thought to those who are mourning their infirmities and who ask, “Can I be a child of God while there is so much darkness in me?” Yes; like the “day,” you do not take your name from the evening, but from the morning; and you are spoken of in the Word of God as if you were even now perfectly holy, as you will be soon.

You are called the child of light, even though there is darkness in you still. You are named after what is the predominating quality in the sight of God, which will one day be the only principal remaining. Notice that the evening comes first. Naturally we are darkness first in order of time, and the gloom is often first in our mournful apprehension, driving us to cry out in deep humiliation, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”1

The place of the morning is second; it dawns when grace overcomes nature. It is a blessed maxim of John Bunyan, “That which is last, lasts forever.” That which is first yields in due season to the last; but nothing comes after the last. So though you are naturally darkness, once you become light in the Lord, there is no evening to follow; “your sun shall no more go down.”2 The first day in this life is an evening and a morning; but the second day, when we shall be with God forever, shall be a day with no evening, but one, sacred, high, eternal noon.

1Luke 18:13 2Isaiah 60:20

Family Reading Plan Jeremiah 6Matthew 20

A faith barrier is made up of attitudes that short-circuit our trust and prevent us from obeying the Lord’s will. A negative self-image can hinder us in this way, as can ignorance of God’s character and promises. Three other attitudes can also trip us up: doubt, feelings of inadequacy, and fear of failure.

Moses doubted that the Israelites would believe he had been chosen by the Lord to lead them. But God graciously provided reassurance–in the form of evidence that He could accomplish everything He’d promised (Ex. 4:1-5). When doubt invades our minds, it can be overcome with diligent study of Scripture and persistent prayer, which will dislodge uncertainty and replace it with biblical truth.

Moses wasn’t eloquent, and a perceived lack of skill left him feeling inadequate for the job–he was afraid trying to speak would make him stumble. God patiently reassured him of divine help in that task. The Lord often chooses unlikely people to carry out His plan because He looks at the heart, not human qualifications (1 Sam. 16:7). He can overcome all our inadequacies.

Sadly, Moses did not embrace what God promised but instead asked to be relieved of the assignment. A fear of failure can prevent us from saying yes to the Lord.

Carrying out God’s will requires a heart that trusts Him, a soul that steps out in obedience, and a mind that leaves success or failure to Him. As we break down the faith barrier, we will be able to see the evidence of God’s presence and power–and experience the joy of obedience.

 Though I am not by any stretch of the imagination a fan of video games, articles on the subject from time to time catch my eye. I was intrigued once by the descriptions given by a video game creator who developed a game that casts the player as a character in a world of choices. The game is now a few years old, but the character customization system it employs is still reasonably unique. It is based on the idea that everything the character does will affect him. Accordingly, “What kind of hero were you?” was the producer’s favorite question as promoted the game.

 In the world of video games, it is fair to say that choices are usually made up front about the kind of character you want to be—villain, hero, explorer. Whether you are going to be a saint or a hooligan is decided in a vacuum—with one choice instead of many—and is largely unaffected by the environment and experiences of the character. In more ways than one, it is an escape from real life.

 But this designer has given the escape a different twist.He set out to create a video game in which choices are made with a similar pace, intricacy, and consequence as real life. “I always thought as a designer, ‘Who am I to tell you what type of character you should be?'” he said. In a plot reminiscent of Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray, a player’s moral decisions affect the fate—even the appearance—of the hero. Players become the kind of character their choices produce, and the world around them is influenced accordingly. Moreover, the simulated world is full of the sort of temptations that lure dark sides and influence decisions: If you could get away with stealing would you? What if the money received from a bribe seemed more useful than the honor gained from refusing it? If you knew every decision would ultimately affect your character would it make you behave respectably or would you eventually give in? 

 The world described in this game sets an interesting backdrop for viewing the ancient writings of 1 and 2 Kings, two books that chronicle the storied lives of the many kings of Israel. I imagine the writer pausing as each king was introduced to ask the question: “What kind of a hero were you?” In the case of these rulers, more often than not, the question is answered unfavorably.

 In fact, the books read like a relentless encyclopedia of failures, providing the official documentation of the moral, political, and national collapses of Israel and Judah. “Joram son of Ahab became king of Israel in Samaria in the eighteenth year of Jehoshaphat king of Judah, and he reigned twelve years. He did evil in the eyes of the LORD, but… he got rid of the sacred stone of Baal that his father had made” (2 Kings 3:1-2). Again and again, the same phrase follows the name of a king: “He did what was evil in the eyes of the LORD.”    

 In fact, the exposition of five hundred years and more than forty kings seems to tirelessly utter disappointment. Even the stories of kings who did what was “pleasing in the eyes of the LORD” do not shout of success. While they made steps closer to God than many of their successors, they never seemed to close the gap. “[Uzziah] did what was right in the eyes of the LORD, just as his father Amaziah had done.  The high places, however, were not removed; the people continued to offer sacrifices and burn incense there” (2 Kings 15:3-4).         

 Each story articulates something of the nature of life. We do not choose the kind of person we want to be in a vacuum, anymore than we make that decision only once. These kings made choices that were influenced by mood and politics, temptations and trials, by the kings before them, and by battles that shook their kingdoms and their pride. They were touched by greed and jealousy, conviction and consequence. They were shaped by the presence of God and the genuineness with which they cried out to God—as are we today.    

 There is something about seeing a life outlined in one paragraph—an epitaph, a memory, an obituary—that rouses our own to perspective. Through years of flawed and sinful leaders, years where corruption reigned and a great number of people failed miserably, the hopeful purposes of God still moved forth. Through generations who sought after God and generations who turned their backs on God, a divine hand was yet at work among all of them. The time we face today is full of choices, but so it is filled with a God who is faithful though we are not.

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

Morning  “Fellow citizens with the saints.” / Ephesians 2:19

 What is meant by our being citizens in heaven? It means that we are under

heaven’s government. Christ the king of heaven reigns in our hearts; our daily

prayer is, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” The proclamations

issued from the throne of glory are freely received by us: the decrees of the

Great King we cheerfully obey. Then as citizens of the New Jerusalem, we share

heaven’s honours. The glory which belongs to beatified saints belongs to us,

for we are already sons of God, already princes of the blood imperial; already

we wear the spotless robe of Jesus’ righteousness; already we have angels for

our servitors, saints for our companions, Christ for our Brother, God for our

Father, and a crown of immortality for our reward. We share the honours of

citizenship, for we have come to the general assembly and Church of the

first-born whose names are written in heaven. As citizens, we have common

rights to all the property of heaven. Ours are its gates of pearl and walls of

chrysolite; ours the azure light of the city that needs no candle nor light of

the sun; ours the river of the water of life, and the twelve manner of fruits

which grow on the trees planted on the banks thereof; there is nought in

heaven that belongeth not to us. “Things present, or things to come,” all are

ours. Also as citizens of heaven we enjoy its delights. Do they there rejoice

over sinners that repent–prodigals that have returned? So do we. Do they

chant the glories of triumphant grace? We do the same. Do they cast their

crowns at Jesus’ feet? Such honours as we have we cast there too. Are they

charmed with his smile? It is not less sweet to us who dwell below. Do they

look forward, waiting for his second advent? We also look and long for his

appearing. If, then, we are thus citizens of heaven, let our walk and actions

be consistent with our high dignity.

Evening “And the evening and the morning were the first day.” / Genesis 1:5

 The evening was “darkness” and the morning was “light,” and yet the two

together are called by the name that is given to the light alone! This is

somewhat remarkable, but it has an exact analogy in spiritual experience. In

every believer there is darkness and light, and yet he is not to be named a

sinner because there is sin in him, but he is to be named a saint because he

possesses some degree of holiness. This will be a most comforting thought to

those who are mourning their infirmities, and who ask, “Can I be a child of

God while there is so much darkness in me?” Yes; for you, like the day, take

not your name from the evening, but from the morning; and you are spoken of in

the word of God as if you were even now perfectly holy as you will be soon.

You are called the child of light, though there is darkness in you still. You

are named after what is the predominating quality in the sight of God, which

will one day be the only principle remaining. Observe that the evening comes

first. Naturally we are darkness first in order of time, and the gloom is

often first in our mournful apprehension, driving us to cry out in deep

humiliation, “God be merciful to me, a sinner.” The place of the morning is

second, it dawns when grace overcomes nature. It is a blessed aphorism of John

Bunyan, “That which is last, lasts forever.” That which is first, yields in

due season to the last; but nothing comes after the last. So that though you

are naturally darkness, when once you become light in the Lord, there is no

evening to follow; “thy sun shall no more go down.” The first day in this life

is an evening and a morning; but the second day, when we shall be with God,

forever, shall be a day with no evening, but one, sacred, high, eternal noon.

And God separated the light from the darkness.  Genesis 1:4 

 A believer has two principles at work within him. In his natural estate he was subject to one principle only, which was darkness; now light has entered, and the two principles disagree. Consider the apostle Paul’s words in the seventh chapter of Romans: “I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members.”1 How is this state of things occasioned? “God separated the light from the darkness.” Darkness, by itself, is quiet and undisturbed, but when the Lord sends in light, there is a conflict, for the one is in opposition to the other, a conflict that will never end until the believer is altogether light in the Lord.

If there is a division inside the individual Christian, there is certain to be a division outside. As soon as the Lord gives light to any man, he proceeds to separate himself from the darkness around; he withdraws from a merely worldly religion of outward ceremony, for nothing short of the Gospel of Christ will now satisfy him, and he removes himself from worldly society and frivolous amusements and seeks the company of the saints, for “We know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love the brothers.”2

The light gathers to itself, and the darkness to itself. What God has separated, let us never try to unite; but as Christ went outside the camp, bearing His reproach, let us come out from the ungodly and be a special people. He was holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners; and as He was, so we are to be nonconformists to the world, dissenting from all sin, and distinguished from the rest of mankind by our likeness to our Master.

1Romans 7:21-23 21 John 3:14

Family Reading Plan Jeremiah 5Matthew 19

1 Peter 2:1-2

Think about a time when you experienced unbearable thirst. You probably would have traded anything for a drink. When you finally got your wish, there was nothing that could have tasted better than that cold, refreshing glass of water.

Compare this physical need to spiritual thirst. Jesus referred to Himself as “living water” because He knew our deep need for fulfillment. And only He can truly satisfy.

Isn’t it interesting, then, that we live in a society where most people feel dissatisfied? In Christ, we have everything necessary to be complete, content, and fulfilled. Yet our world deceptively tells us to seek after wealth, glory, and other empty dreams. These seem to gratify for a short time, if at all. Yet we often do not recognize our actual needs. The Enemy continues to deceive by telling us that his poor substitutes will satisfy the hunger inside us.

Our Father, on the other hand, is all we need. Let’s look at three passages from Scripture. Jesus called Himself “the bread of life” and “living water”–the sustenance our souls require to survive and thrive (John 6:34-35; 7:38). His Word is alive, able to teach, convict, and redirect us toward a godly path (Heb. 4:12). God’s truth, which is called spiritual milk, provides the nourishment our souls need (1 Peter 2:2).

All of us have an emptiness within–a longing for something more. What are you attempting to use to satisfy it? Our hearts are like a jigsaw puzzle. No matter how hard you try to force a wrong piece, it will never fit correctly. Turn to Jesus, and His living water will satisfy your soul.

 New studies show that cell phones, amidst other technologies with intentions of furthering social structure and networking, are altering social behavior in ways that would seem counterintuitive. Friends remain on their phones when they are together. Answering a ringing phone at dinner or in a meeting is less likely to be viewed as an interruption (by the answerer) than it was even five years ago. Phones created with the intention of fostering communication now seem to be furthering qualities of poor communication—or in some cases no communication at all. 

 One major company has recently introduced what it refers to an added functionality for their subscribers. A service they are calling “Escape-A-Date” allows users to arrange for their cell phone to ring at a specified time. The call then guides the answerer through an automated “escape script” that allows the individual to talk his or her way out of being with the gullible person across the table any longer. The evening comes to an abrupt end as half of the party is seemingly in need of rushing off to tend to business. If the date is going well, the courtesy call is simply not answered. 

 This added functionality rivals its non-automated partners in crime, “alibi clubs,” in which online members enlist one another to create an alibi. One only has to post a request for an alibi, which is then answered and acted out to maintain a façade of innocence. Complete strangers call each other’s spouses, bosses, or children, explaining the delay, lessening the disappointment, providing an excuse that allows the one in trouble to go free. Even the most ridiculous scenarios need only the compassion of a fellow stranger to keep the lines of communication “open.”

 There is an ancient phrase of the psalmist that leaps out at me as I read of these emerging functionalities that come into our lives and wreck havoc on genuine functionality. Such counterproductive fruit springing up all around us is something like the “grass on a rooftop” the psalmist describes. In psalm 129, the writer is referring to the deceptive or the wicked, those who work against God’s kingdom. Crying out to God he asks that they be like “grass on a rooftop.”(1)

 At first glance it seems at best an odd request. But in the crevices of the flat roofs of Eastern houses grass indeed springs up, seeming almost to boast about its heightened position in rebellious places. Like the tufts of grass that seem to tirelessly fight back to own a place in the cracks of our sidewalks and driveways, grass on the rooftop stubbornly declares its existence and demands attention, lest the roof itself be damaged. Still, why would anyone ask God to make his enemies like the annoying grass with which he unremittingly fights each year? The conclusions seem almost disheartening. Will the corruption and counterproduction that endlessly springs forth in the crevices of society ever cease? Will the deception and wickedness that grows like weeds not be stopped?   

The psalmist’s colorful description reminds us that, for now, it will likely not be stopped. But in the image of grass upon a roof the psalmist wisely elicits us to see—and to pray—these enemies and their schemes that threaten in a less glamorous light. “May they be as useless as grass on a rooftop, turning yellow when only half grown, ignored by the harvester, despised by the binder” (Psalm 129:6-7). 

 The weeds of certain corruption will remain, but like grass on a rooftop it will never be grass as it was intended, or even as it might hope. Communication that is spoken through alibi clubs and escape scripts is not communication and eventually will bear its counterproductive fruit. Grass on a rooftop cannot fill the reapers’ hands, nor can it fill the gatherers’ arms. It may boast in its elevated position and rebellious standing, but having shallow roots and nowhere to grow, it cannot remain standing for long. It bears no fulfillment, nothing to cut or to carry, nothing for the hand to grasp, nothing that will last. 

 In the words of the Count of Monte Cristo, weo therefore “wait and hope.” “For until the day comes when God will deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is contained in these words: Wait and hope.” The Christian waits for the coming kingdom in its fullness and takes hope in its signs in our midst today. And when we pray, we pray that those who work against the kingdom of God in whatever capacity shall be like grass on a rooftop, until the day when weeds and tears shall be no more.  

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

 (1) Psalm 129:6.

 Morning “Brethren, pray for us.” / 1 Thessalonians 5:25

 This one morning in the year we reserved to refresh the reader’s memory upon

the subject of prayer for ministers, and we do most earnestly implore every

Christian household to grant the fervent request of the text first uttered by

an apostle and now repeated by us. Brethren, our work is solemnly momentous,

involving weal or woe to thousands; we treat with souls for God on eternal

business, and our word is either a savour of life unto life, or of death unto

death. A very heavy responsibility rests upon us, and it will be no small

mercy if at the last we be found clear of the blood of all men. As officers in

Christ’s army, we are the especial mark of the enmity of men and devils; they

watch for our halting, and labour to take us by the heels. Our sacred calling

involves us in temptations from which you are exempt, above all it too often

draws us away from our personal enjoyment of truth into a ministerial and

official consideration of it. We meet with many knotty cases, and our wits are

at a non plus; we observe very sad backslidings, and our hearts are wounded;

we see millions perishing, and our spirits sink. We wish to profit you by our

preaching; we desire to be blest to your children; we long to be useful both

to saints and sinners; therefore, dear friends, intercede for us with our God.

Miserable men are we if we miss the aid of your prayers, but happy are we if

we live in your supplications. You do not look to us but to our Master for

spiritual blessings, and yet how many times has He given those blessings

through His ministers; ask then, again and again, that we may be the earthen

vessels into which the Lord may put the treasure of the gospel. We, the whole

company of missionaries, ministers, city missionaries, and students, do in the

name of Jesus beseech you

 “Brethren, pray for us.”

Evening “When I passed by thee, I said unto thee, Live.” / Ezekiel 16:6

 Saved one, consider gratefully this mandate of mercy. Note that this fiat of

God is majestic. In our text, we perceive a sinner with nothing in him but

sin, expecting nothing but wrath; but the eternal Lord passes by in his glory;

he looks, he pauses, and he pronounces the solitary but royal word, “Live.”

There speaks a God. Who but he could venture thus to deal with life and

dispense it with a single syllable? Again, this fiat is manifold. When he

saith “Live,” it includes many things. Here is judicial life. The sinner is

ready to be condemned, but the mighty One saith, “Live,” and he rises pardoned

and absolved. It is spiritual life. We knew not Jesus–our eyes could not see

Christ, our ears could not hear his voice–Jehovah said “Live,” and we were

quickened who were dead in trespasses and sins. Moreover, it includes

glory-life, which is the perfection of spiritual life. “I said unto thee,

Live:” and that word rolls on through all the years of time till death comes,

and in the midst of the shadows of death, the Lord’s voice is still heard,

“Live!” In the morning of the resurrection it is that self-same voice which is

echoed by the arch-angel, “Live,” and as holy spirits rise to heaven to be

blest forever in the glory of their God, it is in the power of this same word,

“Live.” Note again, that it is an irresistible mandate. Saul of Tarsus is on

the road to Damascus to arrest the saints of the living God. A voice is heard

from heaven and a light is seen above the brightness of the sun, and Saul is

crying out, “Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?” This mandate is a mandate of

free grace. When sinners are saved, it is only and solely because God will do

it to magnify his free, unpurchased, unsought grace. Christians, see your

position, debtors to grace; show your gratitude by earnest, Christlike lives,

and as God has bidden you live, see to it that you live in earnest.

How many are my iniquities and my sins?  Job 13:23 

 Have you ever really weighed and considered how great the sin of God’s people is? Think how heinous is your own transgression, and you will find that not only does a sin here and there tower up like an alp, but that your iniquities are heaped upon each other, as in the old fable of the giants who piled Pelian upon Ossa,1 mountain upon mountain. What an aggregate of sin there is in the life of one of the most sanctified of God’s children! Attempt to multiply this, the sin of one only, by the multitude of the redeemed, “a great multitude that no one could number,”2 and you will have some conception of the great mass of the guilt of the people for whom Jesus shed His blood. But we arrive at a more adequate idea of the magnitude of sin by the greatness of the remedy provided.

It is the blood of Jesus Christ, God’s only and well-beloved Son. God’s Son! Angels cast their crowns before Him! All the choral symphonies of heaven surround His glorious throne. “God over all, blessed forever. Amen.”3 And yet He takes upon Himself the form of a servant and is scourged and pierced, bruised and torn, and at last slain; nothing but the blood of the incarnate Son of God could make atonement for our offenses.

No human mind can adequately estimate the infinite value of the divine sacrifice, for although the sin of God’s people is great, the atonement that takes it away is immeasurably greater. Therefore, even when sin rolls in like a flood, and the remembrance of the past is bitter, the believer can still stand before the blazing throne of the great and holy God and cry, “Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised.”4 While the recollection of the believer’s sin fills him with shame and sorrow, its very darkness serves to show the brightness of mercy; guilt is the dark night in which the fair star of divine love shines with serene splendor.

1The giant sons of Iphimedia who tried to reach Olympus by piling Mt. Pelian on Mt. Ossa (The Odyssey).

2Revelation 7:9 3Romans 9:5 4Romans 8:34

Family Reading Plan Jeremiah 2Matthew 16

God predestined us to grow into His likeness, but this doesn’t happen at the moment we are saved. While we are redeemed by the Savior’s precious blood and immediately have a new heart, our transformation is a lifelong process.

The Holy Spirit enables this journey. Growth is impossible without Him, regardless of our efforts. Yet we can welcome or hinder His transforming hand.

One way we give God willing access to our lives is by obeying this mandate in Romans 12:2: “And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind…”

Everyone chooses either a biblical or worldly philosophy as his or her source of truth–and that choice shapes the mind and spirit. Therefore, the Lord tells us to immerse our mind in Scripture, allowing Him to mold us into His beautiful image.

The Bible story about the Israelites wandering in the wilderness illustrates this principle. After saving them from Pharaoh’s abuse, God did not bring them immediately to the Promised Land. The Lord knew doing so would bring sinful ways with them. Instead, He led them to the wilderness and gave the Ten Commandments. Only after they learned to obey and turn to almighty God were they ready for the next step.

The process of sanctification isn’t always pleasant. In fact, it’s often painful for us, just as it was for the Israelites. In God’s amazing wisdom and love, however, He knows what we need to leave our old ways that lead to death. And He builds new character in us–full of life and joy.

 There is a vacuum at the heart of our culture. As Saul Bellow argued in his 1976 Noble Laureate lecture, “The intelligent public is waiting to hear from art what it does not hear from theology, philosophy, and social theory and what it cannot hear from pure science: a broader, fuller, more coherent, more comprehensive account of what we human beings are, who we are, and what this life is for. If writers do not come into the center, it will not be because the center is pre-empted; it is not.” Very simply stated, there is no center to hold things together. Or to put it differently, there is no over-arching story to life by which all the particulars can be interpreted. The pursuit of knowledge without knowing who we are or why we exist, combined with a war on our imaginations by our entertainment industry, leaves us at the mercy of power with no morality. May I illustrate this?

 On many different occasions while driving and listening to music, every now and then a piece comes on that I find either unmusical or jarring. I usually shut the radio off. But then one day I was taken to see a play called The Phantom of the Opera. Suddenly I realized that some of the music I had not quite enjoyed was from this play. I was amazed at the difference knowing the story made, whenever I heard the music subsequently. In fact the music in some portions is utterly magnificent. The love songs, the discourses, yes, even the arguments made sense when you know the story. Life needs a story for one to understand the details. Life needs to hold together at the center if we are to reach to distant horizons. But our culture owns neither a story, nor holds at the center.

 If such is the reality of our culture, where does that leave us? The challenge, as I see it, is this: How do you connect with a generation that hears with its eyes and thinks with its feelings? 

 Ironically, postmodernism may be one of the most opportune thought patterns because it has cleared the playing field.  All disciplines have lost their “final authority.” The hopes that modernity had brought, the triumph of “Reason” and “Science,” which many thought would bring the utopia, have failed in almost every respect. With all of our material gains, there is still a hunger for the spiritual. In virtually every part of the world, students linger long after every session to talk and plead for answers to their barren lives. All the education one gets does not diminish that search for inner coherence and a storyline for one’s own life.  

 As much as postmodernism can confuse language and definitions, there is a yearning that the postmodernist’s cavalier attitude does not weaken. Moreover, there is indeed a story and one who stands at the center who answers this yearning. Only in the gospel message that culminates in worship is there coherence—which in turn brings coherence within the community of believers, where both individuality and community are affirmed. The worship of the living God is what ultimately binds the various inclinations of the heart and gives them focus. A worshipping community in spirit and in truth binds the diversity of our culture, the diversity of our education, the diversity of our backgrounds, and brings us together into a corporate expression of worship.  

 With all that the cultural terrain presents to us, the injunction that “to find one’s self, one must lose one’s self,” contains a truth any seeker of self-fulfillment needs to grasp. Apart from the cross of Jesus Christ, I know of no other hope. The songwriter said it simply: We’ve a story to tell to the nations. The last stanza of that great hymn says:

 We’ve a Savior to show to the nations
Who the path of sorrow hath trod,
That all of the world’s great peoples
Might come to the truth of God.
For the darkness shall turn to dawning,
And the dawning to noon-day bright,
And Christ’s great kingdom shall come to earth,
The kingdom of love and light.

 Ravi Zacharias is founder and chairman of the board of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries.

Morning   “Whoso hearkeneth unto me shall dwell safely, and shall be quiet from fear of

evil.”  Proverbs 1:33

 Divine love is rendered conspicuous when it shines in the midst of judgments.

Fair is that lone star which smiles through the rifts of the thunder clouds;

bright is the oasis which blooms in the wilderness of sand; so fair and so

bright is love in the midst of wrath. When the Israelites provoked the Most High

by their continued idolatry, he punished them by withholding both dew and rain,

so that their land was visited by a sore famine; but while he did this, he took

care that his own chosen ones should be secure. If all other brooks are dry, yet

shall there be one reserved for Elijah; and when that fails, God shall still

preserve for him a place of sustenance; nay, not only so, the Lord had

 not simply one “Elijah,” but he had a remnant according to the election of

grace, who were hidden by fifties in a cave, and though the whole land was

subject to famine, yet these fifties in the cave were fed, and fed from Ahab’s

table too by His faithful, God-fearing steward, Obadiah. Let us from this draw

the inference, that come what may, God’s people are safe. Let convulsions shake

the solid earth, let the skies themselves be rent in twain, yet amid the wreck

of worlds the believer shall be as secure as in the calmest hour of rest. If God

cannot save his people under heaven, he will save them in heaven. If the world

becomes too hot to hold them, then heaven shall be the place of their

 reception and their safety. Be ye then confident, when ye hear of wars, and

rumours of wars. Let no agitation distress you, but be quiet from fear of evil.

Whatsoever cometh upon the earth, you, beneath the broad wings of Jehovah, shall

be secure. Stay yourself upon his promise; rest in his faithfulness, and bid

defiance to the blackest future, for there is nothing in it direful for you.

Your sole concern should be to show forth to the world the blessedness of

hearkening to the voice of wisdom.

Evening   “How many are mine iniquities and sins?”  Job 13:23

 Have you ever really weighed and considered how great the sin of God’s people

is? Think how heinous is your own transgression, and you will find that not only

does a sin here and there tower up like an alp, but that your iniquities are

heaped upon each other, as in the old fable of the giants who piled Pelion upon

Ossa, mountain upon mountain. What an aggregate of sin there is in the life of

one of the most sanctified of God’s children! Attempt to multiply this, the sin

of one only, by the multitude of the redeemed, “a number which no man can

number,” and you will have some conception of the great mass of the guilt of the

people for whom Jesus shed his blood. But we arrive at a more

 adequate idea of the magnitude of sin by the greatness of the remedy provided.

It is the blood of Jesus Christ, God’s only and well-beloved Son. God’s Son!

Angels cast their crowns before him! All the choral symphonies of heaven

surround his glorious throne. “God over all, blessed forever. Amen.” And yet he

takes upon himself the form of a servant, and is scourged and pierced, bruised

and torn, and at last slain; since nothing but the blood of the incarnate Son of

God could make atonement for our offences. No human mind can adequately estimate

the infinite value of the divine sacrifice, for great as is the sin of God’s

people, the atonement which takes it away is immeasurably greater.

 Therefore, the believer, even when sin rolls like a black flood, and the

remembrance of the past is bitter, can yet stand before the blazing throne of

the great and holy God, and cry, “Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that

died; yea rather, that hath risen again.” While the recollection of his sin

fills him with shame and sorrow, he at the same time makes it a foil to show the

brightness of mercy–guilt is the dark night in which the fair star of divine

love shines with serene splendour.

Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock.   Isaiah 26:4 

 Seeing that we have such a God to trust, let us rest upon Him with all our weight; let us resolutely drive out all unbelief and endeavor to get rid of doubts and fears, which spoil our comfort, since there is no excuse for fear when God is the foundation of our trust. A loving parent would be sorely grieved if his child could not trust him; and how ungenerous, how unkind is our conduct when we put so little confidence in our heavenly Father, who has never failed us and who never will.

It would be good if doubting was banished from the household of God; but it is to be feared that old Unbelief is as nimble today as when the psalmist asked, “Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable?”1 David had not tested the mighty sword of the giant Goliath for long, and yet he said, “There is none like that.”2 He had tried it once in the hour of his youthful victory, and it had proved itself to be of the right metal, and therefore he praised it ever afterwards.

Even so should we speak well of our God; there is none like unto Him in the heaven above or the earth beneath. “To whom will you liken me and make me equal, and compare me, that we may be alike?”3 There is no rock like the rock of Jacob, our enemies themselves being judges. So far from tolerating doubts to live in our hearts, we will take the whole detestable crew, as Elijah did the prophets of Baal, and slay them over the brook; and for a stream to kill them at, we will select the sacred torrent that flows from our Savior’s wounded side. We have been in many trials, but we have never yet been placed where we could not find in our God all that we needed. Let us then be encouraged to trust in the Lord forever, assured that His ever-lasting strength will be, as it has been, our deliverance and comfort.

1Psalm 77:7 21 Samuel 21:9 3Isaiah 46:5

Family Reading Plan   Jeremiah 1  Matthew 15

Throughout this day, Americans everywhere will celebrate freedom, as well they should. It’s one of the defining principles of their nation. Yet one might ask, Of those celebrating freedom, how many are truly experiencing it?

Certainly many men and women are living the American dream. They enjoy well-paying careers and wonderful homes, thanks in large part to political liberty. But meanwhile, their “pursuit of happiness” has yet to be satisfied. The reason is that lots of people remain prisoners internally, despite their apparent success. They are bound to anxiety and depression, or a fear of losing what they’ve worked hard to possess. However liberating circumstances seem externally, we eventually learn that freedom must be realized within. But how?

The answer is Jesus Christ. Isaiah 61:1 prophesied a key aspect of Jesus’ ministry, which continues to this day: He has come to heal the brokenhearted and set captives free. When we trust Him as Savior, the chains that keep us from joy are broken. We are liberated from lies that have been programmed in our minds from an early age, and we begin to see things from God’s point of view. Then we discover that our needs, desires, and total well-being rest securely in the arms of a loving heavenly Father.

Are you feeling the weight of anxiety or anger? Look to Jesus, the author and perfecter of your faith, and remember the scriptural promise: “Now is the day of salvation” (2 Cor. 6:2). The day you trust in Him is the day He delivers you from fear and opens your eyes to who you truly are.

 The well-read collection of essays written by C.S. Lewis and compiled posthumously in the book God in the Dock was originally published in England under a different title. The book was titled Undeceptions.

 “Undeception” was the word Lewis used to describe a startling experience of awareness—moments when deception is uncovered and the cause is seen clearly from within, moments when blind spots are replaced with reality. He was taken with these awakenings or undeceptions in many of the characters of Jane Austen. In much of Austen’s work, he observes, “[T]he undeception…is the very pivot or watershed of the story.”(1)

 Lewis would unquestionably state the same of our own stories. “Undeception” was no doubt a word that fittingly described his startling experience of being brought into the kingdom of God kicking and screaming, the most reluctant convert in all England. It was that experience through which he saw himself, the world, and its creator for the rest of his life.

 Encountering God, many note the recognizing of blind spots. “Surely the LORD is in this place, and I was not aware of it” woke Jacob to his own deception. He didn’t wake up declaring that the God who was once absent had now appeared. He said, “God was here all along and I was the one who didn’t see it.” A friend of mine refers to pivotal encounters like Jacob’s dream as “thin spots”—moments in life where the nearness of God is nearly palpable. Other theologians describe such encounters as openings or baptisms, windows or transcendence. Still others give testimonies similar to the man born blind in ancient Jerusalem. Forced to explain to the Pharisees the unexplainable moment he had with Jesus, he mustered the only words he could think to describe it: “Only one thing I do know. I was blind but now I see” (John 9:25).

 In his book Grace Abounding, John Bunyan describes a day when he was inexplicably released from doubt and despair. While passing through a field, troubled in conscience and fearing that all was not right, the sentence fell upon his soul: “Thy righteousness is in heaven.”(2) Writes Bunyan, “I thought I saw with the eyes of my soul Jesus Christ at God’s right hand. There was my righteousness. Wherever I was, or whatever I was doing, God could not say of me that I lacked his righteousness, for that was ever before Him. Moreover, I saw that it was not my good frame of heart that made my righteousness better, nor my bad frame that made it worse, for my righteousness was Jesus Christ himself.”(3) 

 Bunyan’s encounter was for him an experience of undeception. His story is also one more example of a soul not seeking experiences of self-awareness or even experiences with God, but one seeking the Lord, his kingdom, and his holiness, and in seeking finding it all.

 Of course, this is not to be overlooked or seen as easy or even painless. A person that is willing to put even his or her vision of life into God’s hands, watching as he prepares a fearful concoction of spit and mud, is a soul that seeks God with courage. Self-deception is a difficult thing to own up to, and far too often it is easier to see the deception in others than it is to see in ourselves. The blinders we walk with through life, God in his mercy must remove. Opening our reluctant eyes, the Father shows us with his radiance the darkness we’ve been squinting in, even as God prepares us to see the great and unsearchable.  

 In Bunyan and in Lewis, in the lives of Christians throughout history, the defining characteristic of their encounters with God was their willingness (even reluctant willingness) to see the deceptions within themselves and to bring these deceptions back to the feet of the one who made them visible. God’s love and mercy are to our lives the shining undeceptions that unwearyingly move us to see.    

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

(1) C.S. Lewis, Selected Literary Essays, “A Note on Jane Austen” Ed. Walter Hooper (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979), 178.
(2) See Psalm 85:11b.
(3) John Bunyan, Grace Abounding (New Kensington: Whitaker House, 1993), 135.

Morning “Called to be saints.” Romans 1:7

 We are very apt to regard the apostolic saints as if they were “saints” in a

more especial manner than the other children of God. All are “saints” whom God

has called by His grace, and sanctified by His Spirit; but we are apt to look

upon the apostles as extraordinary beings, scarcely subject to the same

weaknesses and temptations as ourselves. Yet in so doing we are forgetful of

this truth, that the nearer a man lives to God the more intensely has he to

mourn over his own evil heart; and the more his Master honours him in his

service, the more also doth the evil of the flesh vex and tease him day by day.

The fact is, if we had seen the apostle Paul, we should have thought him

remarkably  like the rest of the chosen family: and if we had talked with him, we should

have said, “We find that his experience and ours are much the same. He is more

faithful, more holy, and more deeply taught than we are, but he has the selfsame

trials to endure. Nay, in some respects he is more sorely tried than ourselves.”

Do not, then, look upon the ancient saints as being exempt either from

infirmities or sins; and do not regard them with that mystic reverence which

will almost make us idolaters. Their holiness is attainable even by us. We are

“called to be saints” by that same voice which constrained them to their high

vocation. It is a Christian’s duty to force his way into the inner circle

 of saintship; and if these saints were superior to us in their attainments, as

they certainly were, let us follow them; let us emulate their ardour and

holiness. We have the same light that they had, the same grace is accessible to

us, and why should we rest satisfied until we have equalled them in heavenly

character? They lived with Jesus, they lived for Jesus, therefore they grew like

Jesus. Let us live by the same Spirit as they did, “looking unto Jesus,” and our

saintship will soon be apparent.

Evening “Trust ye in the Lord forever: for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength.” Isaiah 26:4

Seeing that we have such a God to trust to, let us rest upon him with all our

weight; let us resolutely drive out all unbelief, and endeavour to get rid of

doubts and fears, which so much mar our comfort; since there is no excuse for

fear where God is the foundation of our trust. A loving parent would be sorely

grieved if his child could not trust him; and how ungenerous, how unkind is our

conduct when we put so little confidence in our heavenly Father who has never

failed us, and who never will. It were well if doubting were banished from the

household of God; but it is to be feared that old Unbelief is as nimble nowadays

as when the psalmist asked, “Is his mercy clean gone forever? Will

 he be favourable no more?” David had not made any very lengthy trial of the

mighty sword of the giant Goliath, and yet he said, “There is none like it.” He

had tried it once in the hour of his youthful victory, and it had proved itself

to be of the right metal, and therefore he praised it ever afterwards; even so

should we speak well of our God, there is none like unto him in the heaven above

or the earth beneath; “To whom then will ye liken me, or shall I be equal? saith

the Holy One.” There is no rock like unto the rock of Jacob, our enemies

themselves being judges. So far from suffering doubts to live in our hearts, we

will take the whole detestable crew, as Elijah did the prophets of

 Baal, and slay them over the brook; and for a stream to kill them at, we will

select the sacred torrent which wells forth from our Saviour’s wounded side. We

have been in many trials, but we have never yet been cast where we could not

find in our God all that we needed. Let us then be encouraged to trust in the

Lord forever, assured that his ever lasting strength will be, as it has been,

our succour and stay.

He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not lift up his soul to what is false and does not swear deceitfully.   Psalms 24:4 

Outward practical holiness is a very precious mark of grace. It is to be feared that many professors have perverted the doctrine of justification by faith in such a way as to treat good works with contempt; if so, they will receive everlasting contempt at the last great day. If our hands are not clean, let us wash them in Jesus’ precious blood, and so let us lift up pure hands unto God. But “clean hands” will not suffice unless they are connected with “a pure heart.” True religion is heart-work. We may wash the outside of the cup and the plate as long as we please, but if the inward parts be filthy, we are filthy altogether in the sight of God, for our hearts are more truly ourselves than our hands are. The very life of our being lies in the inner nature, and hence the imperative need of purity within. The pure in heart shall see God; all others are but blind bats.

The man who is born for heaven “does not lift up his soul to what is false.” All men have their joys by which their souls are lifted up. The worldling lifts up his soul in carnal delights, which are mere empty vanities; but the saint loves more substantial things; like Jehoshaphat, he is lifted up in the ways of the Lord. He who is content with husks will be reckoned with the swine. Does the world satisfy you? Then you have your reward and portion in this life; make much of it, for you will know no other joy.

“Does not swear deceitfully.” The saints are men of honor still. The Christian man’s word is his only oath; but that is as good as twenty oaths of other men. False speaking will shut any man out of heaven, for a liar shall not enter into God’s house, whatever may be his professions or doings. Reader, does the text before us condemn you, or do you hope to ascend into the hill of the Lord?

Family Reading Plan      Isaiah 66    Matthew 14

God has a purpose for your life. If that weren’t true, He’d have taken you home to heaven at the moment of salvation. Do you ever wonder why He left you here?

The Lord intends to influence others through you. Our purpose is to be a vessel through which Christ overflows to others–touching those who hurt and desperately need a Savior. Once we are saved, Scripture teaches, our involvement is threefold.

First, we love others. Jesus clearly stated that this was one of the two greatest commandments (Matt. 22:38-39).

Second, we share the good news of salvation (Acts 1:8). Some travel across the world to spread the gospel, while others teach neighbors across the street. The Holy Spirit will direct us to the right people if we are willing to obey.

Third, we serve in a variety of ways, like helping those in need, sharing our resources, and lifting others in prayer. Jesus is our perfect example of all three. His entire life was marked by caring for people–both those who loved Him and those who did not. In fact, the Bible teaches that He humbled Himself and became like us, willing to give up His life for our redemption. There is no greater love; there is no greater act of service.

Scripture clearly defines the believer’s purpose. Aligning ourselves with God’s intentions for His children–loving others, witnessing, and serving– bring us great satisfaction. In fact, we’re still on earth not merely to hear more teaching but to act on it and share with others what we learn.

 Why isn’t God more obvious? This question is often asked in many ways and in many contexts. When prayers go unanswered, why is God silent? When suffering or tragedy strikes, why would God allow this to happen? When struggling over the countless millions who do not know about God revealed in Jesus Christ, why wouldn’t God want more people to know this great, good news? When all the “evidence” seems to counter the biblical narrative, why doesn’t God just give a sign? When God was revealed through many wondrous signs and miracles throughout the Bible, why doesn’t God act that way today? All of these examples get at the same issue–the seeming “hiddenness” of God.

 Atheist Bertrand Russell was once asked what he would say if after death he met God. Russell replied: “God, you gave us insufficient evidence.”(1) While many who have found God quite evident would balk at Russell’s impudence, a similar struggle ensued between the psalmist and his hidden God. “Why do you stand afar off, O Lord? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?” (Psalms 10:1). Indeed, the psalmist accuses God of being “asleep” in these plaintive cries: “Arouse, yourself, why do you sleep, O Lord? Awake, and do not reject us forever. Why do you hide your face, and forget our affliction and our oppression?” (Psalm 44:23-24).

 Indeed, the belief in a God who can be easily found, and who has acted in time and space makes the hiddenness of God all the more poignant and perplexing. Theologians and apologists have offered many explanations for God’s hiddenness: because God seeks to grow our faith, because our sins and disobedience hide us from God and keep us from seeing God properly, or because God loves us and knows how much and how often we need to “find” God. If we are honest, perhaps we are just as likely to hide ourselves from God because of our own sense of guilt and shame, just as the narrative in Genesis tells us Adam and Eve hid from God in the Garden. But, what of those who relentlessly seek after God and who are “blameless” with regards to willful hiding? Like the ancient sufferer Job, the cry rises up within us wondering why God stays hidden away in unanswered prayers and difficult circumstances. “Why do you hide your face, and consider me the enemy?” (Job 13:24).

 The hiddenness of God is problematic for theists and atheists alike. Christians often take for granted that we have a scripture which provides a record of God’s revelation. We have the benefit of a book full of God’s speech. God speaks in the wonder and mystery of creation; God speaks through the history of the nation of Israel; God speaks through the very Word of God incarnate, Jesus Christ. His life reveals the exact nature of God, and places God’s glory on full display. Atheists take the seeming silence of God a justification for their atheism.

 Regardless, all may wonder whether the only place to hear God speaking is in the past. Is God still speaking today? Has God not given any contemporary witness for God’s presence and activity in the world today?

 In fact, God is often found in one of the last places we think of—the church. For when the church is at its best, the church tells fresh the story of God’s good news across the ages. But the church can become the living embodiment of God’s presence; encountered in the love and care demonstrated by the community for each other, for the sake of the world. At its best, the church can be such a community, and can be a symbol of God’s presence among us as “God-found,” and not “God-hidden.”  The church can be the arms of God around us when we are hurting, or the voice of God speaking when we feel we haven’t heard from God in years. Such a community can be like the faithful friends who carried their paralyzed friend to hear Jesus. His faith didn’t heal him, but the faith of his friends did!(2) The church can be God’s voice, God’s hands and feet as they extend out into the broken places of the world to bring healing, help, and comfort. Through worship and liturgy, prayer and communion, service and sacrifice the church is to reveal the God who spoke and is still speaking.

 God is not often revealed in the roar of the hurricane or the loud-clap of thunder, but in a “still, small voice”—a voice that is often barely audible except to the most patient and still. But when the Church, broken and human as it is, seeks through the power of the Spirit of Christ to accomplish “greater things than these,” we see God and hear God, and find God beautifully obvious.

 For those who long to see God, who long to find God in the darkest hour, we may not find God in the dramatic or the victorious, the miraculous or the stupendous. Instead, we may yet hope to find him in the pew, at the table of the Lord’s Supper, or in the faithful friends who encircle around, fellow seekers who long to find God too.

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

 (1) Cited in Dr. Paul K. Moser’s booklet, Why Isn’t God More Obvious: Finding the God who Hides and Seeks (Norcross, GA: RZIM, 2000), 1.
(2) Mark 2:1-12.