1 Corinthians 13:11-13

Since our Father wants us to mature in the faith, we should stop periodically and examine our lives to see if we’re making progress in this area. Physical growth is fairly easy to evaluate–all you need is a tape measure. But how can you tell if you’re growing spiritually? Let’s begin by considering how children develop.

Desires: Have you noticed that your childhood toys no longer interest you? The maturing process changes our desires in the spiritual realm too. When we’re growing, the world’s pleasures lose their appeal, while our hunger for God and His Word increases. We are eager to be with Him and share with others how He’s working in our lives.

Understanding: When you were young, your perception of the world was very limited. In the same way, we lack spiritual understanding when we’re new believers. But in time, we begin to see life from God’s perspective. Trials and temptations become opportunities for growth, and service for the Lord becomes an honor instead of a burden.

Selflessness: The most obvious sign of a toddler’s immaturity is his selfishness. He wants his way, and he wants it now! Hopefully that is no longer characteristic of you. A mature believer is submissive to the Lord, willing to wait, and more concerned about others than himself.

How are you doing in these three areas of growth? Maybe it’s time to let go of a few childish ways in order to grow into a mature believer. The greatest evidence of maturity is love. When the Lord and other people have first place in our hearts, it’s then that we’re most like Jesus.

In times of crisis we cry out almost instinctively for a power beyond our situation. In the midst of tragedy we seem to recognize that the thought of a sovereign God is comforting. I once read an essay in which the author, a Zen Buddhist, recounted the fateful day his plane came just moments from crashing. As the plane literally dropped from the sky, he recalls being completely shocked by his response, astonished by the words that came out of his mouth. He writes, “When all seemed lost, it wasn’t Mu I had cried out, or even Buddha, but of all things, Jesus—in spite of everything else I had ever believed or done.”(1)

 

The gospel writer John describes a similar situation. In the chapter following the exchange between Jesus and the woman at the well, Jesus is confronted by a member of the king’s circle.(2) The two accounts sit powerfully beside one another. One life was weary from a hopeless reputation, the other weary of a hopeless situation, and both seemed to recognize in Jesus a sovereign comfort. The woman at the well was living in shame and isolation until she realized Jesus saw her for more than a despairing reputation. The official, who was most likely an officer of Herod Antipas, had traveled from Capernaum to Galilee to see the rabbi from Nazareth. His son near death, he found himself crying out to Jesus, in spite of everything else he had ever believed or done. In the midst of tragedy, his own titles and authority seemed lifeless, the king’s sovereignty wholly inadequate.

Like many today, the royal officer believed Jesus was a unique person. He saw more hope in making the long journey to plead with Jesus than he saw in going to the king, to the temple, or to the chief of priests. The journey was even worth risking what might have been his last moments by his son’s bedside. But also like many today, the officer had not fully considered the uniqueness of Christ until the peril of this moment and until Jesus himself tested his cry.

As his son lay teetering between life and death, the official called to Jesus and pled with him to come to his house and heal his son. His cry for help was both gravely persistent and expectant. But Jesus did not offer what the troubled father solicited. He only offered words: “You may go. Your son lives” (John 4:50).

This moment of decision becomes absolutely pivotal when you realize the man was given only a word of assurance from a man who spoke many words people were unsure about. Even Jesus’s own disciples were confused a good amount of the time with the things Jesus had to say. This grieving father faced a defining decision about the words of Christ that day. Jesus tested his cry for life with an inquiry of his own: “Will you believe in mywords or do you only ask for a miracle?”

The man believed. John reports, “The man took Jesus at hisword and departed.” He was asked to recognize the matchless sovereignty of the one to whom he cried in the midst of tragedy, and he chose to believe there was life in the words of Christ. And he was right. On his way home, his servants met him with news that his boy was living. 

The psalmist declares what we, too, seem to recognize in times of crisis: “The LORD is a refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble.”(3) God is our refuge in the midst of tragedy, the name above all names to cry out when all seems lost. God is also so much more than this. Even as Jesus draws near in a way unlike any other god or idol, his words test our cry: “Who do you say that I am?”  “I tell you the truth, if anyone keeps my word, he will never see death.” “I am the resurrection and the life, whoever believes in me will never die.”(4) Is this not the unique promise and unparalleled comfort for which we cry?

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

(1) Clark Strand, At the Root of It All, http://www.beliefnet.org.
(2) This story is told in John 4:43-54.
(3) cf. Psalm 9:9
(4) cf. Luke 9:20, John 8:51, John 11:24.

Morning “Let me now go to the field, and glean ears of corn.” / Ruth 2:2

Downcast and troubled Christian, come and glean today in the broad field of

promise. Here are abundance of precious promises, which exactly meet thy

wants. Take this one: “He will not break the bruised reed, nor quench the

smoking flax.” Doth not that suit thy case? A reed, helpless, insignificant,

and weak, a bruised reed, out of which no music can come; weaker than weakness

itself; a reed, and that reed bruised, yet, he will not break thee; but on the

contrary, will restore and strengthen thee. Thou art like the smoking flax: no

light, no warmth, can come from thee; but he will not quench thee; he will

blow with his sweet breath of mercy till he fans thee to a flame. Wouldst thou

glean another ear? “Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I

will give you rest.” What soft words! Thy heart is tender, and the Master

knows it, and therefore he speaketh so gently to thee. Wilt thou not obey him,

and come to him even now? Take another ear of corn: “Fear not, thou worm

Jacob, I will help thee, saith the Lord and thy Redeemer, the Holy One of

Israel.” How canst thou fear with such a wonderful assurance as this? Thou

mayest gather ten thousand such golden ears as these! “I have blotted out thy

sins like a cloud, and like a thick cloud thy transgressions.” Or this,

“Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they

be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.” Or this, “The Spirit and the

Bride say, Come, and let him that is athirst come, and whosoever will let him

take the water of life freely.” Our Master’s field is very rich; behold the

handfuls. See, there they lie before thee, poor timid believer! Gather them

up, make them thine own, for Jesus bids thee take them. Be not afraid, only

believe! Grasp these sweet promises, thresh them out by meditation and feed on

them with joy.

 

Evening  “Thou crownest the year with thy goodness.” / Psalm 65:11

All the year round, every hour of every day, God is richly blessing us; both

when we sleep and when we wake his mercy waits upon us. The sun may leave us a

legacy of darkness, but our God never ceases to shine upon his children with

beams of love. Like a river, his lovingkindness is always flowing, with a

fulness inexhaustible as his own nature. Like the atmosphere which constantly

surrounds the earth, and is always ready to support the life of man, the

benevolence of God surrounds all his creatures; in it, as in their element,

they live, and move, and have their being. Yet as the sun on summer days

gladdens us with beams more warm and bright than at other times, and as rivers

are at certain seasons swollen by the rain, and as the atmosphere itself is

sometimes fraught with more fresh, more bracing, or more balmy influences than

heretofore, so is it with the mercy of God; it hath its golden hours; its days

of overflow, when the Lord magnifieth his grace before the sons of men.

Amongst the blessings of the nether springs, the joyous days of harvest are a

special season of excessive favour. It is the glory of autumn that the ripe

gifts of providence are then abundantly bestowed; it is the mellow season of

realization, whereas all before was but hope and expectation. Great is the joy

of harvest. Happy are the reapers who fill their arms with the liberality of

heaven. The Psalmist tells us that the harvest is the crowning of the year.

Surely these crowning mercies call for crowning thanksgiving! Let us render it

by the inward emotions of gratitude. Let our hearts be warmed; let our spirits

remember, meditate, and think upon this goodness of the Lord. Then let us

praise him with our lips, and laud and magnify his name from whose bounty all

this goodness flows. Let us glorify God by yielding our gifts to his cause. A

practical proof of our gratitude is a special thank-offering to the Lord of

the harvest.

You crown the year with your bounty.   Psalm 65:11

All the year round, every hour of every day, God is richly blessing us; when we are asleep and when we awaken, His mercy waits upon us. The sun may leave us a legacy of darkness, but God never ceases to shine upon His children with beams of love. Like a river, His loving-kindness is always flowing, with a fullness as inexhaustible as His own nature. Like the atmosphere that constantly surrounds the earth and is always ready to support the life of man, the kindness of God surrounds all His creatures; in it, as in their element, they live and move and have their being.

Just as the sun on summer days gladdens us with warmer and brighter rays than at other times, and as rivers in certain seasons are swollen by the rain, and as the air itself is sometimes filled with fresher breezes than at other times, so is it with the mercy of God; it has its golden hours, its overflowing days, when the Lord magnifies His grace before the children of men. The joyful days of harvest are a special season of abundant favor. It is the glory of autumn that the ripe gifts of providence are then generously bestowed; it is the mellow season when we enjoy all that we had hoped for. The joy of harvest is great. The reapers are happy to fill their arms with the abundance of heaven.

The psalmist tells us that the harvest is the crowning of the year. Surely these crowning mercies merit a crowning thanksgiving! Let us render it by the inward emotions of gratitude. Let our hearts be warmed; let our spirits remember, meditate, and think upon this goodness of the Lord. Then let us praise Him with our lips and honor and magnify His name who is the source of all this goodness. Let us glorify God by offering our gifts to His cause. A practical proof of our gratitude is a special thank-offering to the Lord of the harvest.

Family Reading Plan      Jeremiah 28         Mark 14