Hebrews 11:32-40

Although most of us would love to have the heroic trust of the men and women mentioned in Hebrews 11, few of us are willing to go through the process which God uses to develop this kind of dynamic faith. We love reading about the great victories and accomplishments of those who trusted the Lord, but we cringe at the descriptions in verses 36-38. None of us want to go through such horrific situations, but adversity is God’s way of purifying our faith.

Picture the Lord as a master sculptor standing before a block of marble–that slab is you! Picturing the hidden work of art within the rock, He lovingly and carefully chips away at everything that does not fit the masterpiece He’s creating.

Character: One of the first areas the Lord deals with is your character. His goal is to shape you into the image of His Son, and there are some traits and attitudes that must be chipped away in order for Him to accomplish the task. His chisel lays bare roots of sin and selfishness.

Idolatry: When anything or anyone becomes more important to us than the Lord, we have an idol in our lives. To protect us, God sometimes uses adversity to strip away everything we have relied upon so that we’ll cling only to Him.

The chisel hurts–it sometimes feels as if God is taking away everything we hold dear. Unless you understand His goal and believe He’s working for your good, you’ll think He’s cruel. But if you trust Him and yield to His shaping tool of adversity, your faith will be purified and strengthened through affliction.

During the long, sunny days of summer, it is difficult to anticipate the coming shortening of days and cooler temperatures. Yet for the residents of the Pacific Northwestern United States, the fall and winter months not only bring darkening days, but consistent rainfall. Not only must we endure many cloudy days, but we must also engage our wills to go out in it and continue daily tasks and recreation. If not, the inside of one’s domicile is all a resident will see for several months—from late October through May.

Sometimes the rain even continues falling steadily into June, known as “Junuary” to the locals, given the similarities to January-like weather. Rain is as ubiquitous to the Northwest as sunshine is to the desert. Like the many names for snow that the Inuit peoples use to describe the subtle variations for the predominant element in their frozen world, there are as many different kinds of rain in this region. Mists, gentle, soft showers, wind-blown torrents, and spring downpours are all ways to describe that long season of cloudy skies and too familiar precipitation.

However, I have observed that the rain doesn’t stop people from being outside and from enjoying the day. Sure, there are those who find the gray days of fall and winter diminishing, but the rain doesn’t prevent most from going outside to walk or to run or to boat in the bodies of water that are as plentiful as the land. Whether it is through adaptation or sheer force of will, we are undeterred. The rainy weather, though it conspires to silence the call of the outdoors, does not mute the song of the mountains or the water, or the countless beautiful places in this region.

It was during a walk in the rain that I thought about the force of the human will. Sometimes we often see ourselves as the victims of the rains or bad weather in our lives. Or we often find someone or something else to blame for our dampened circumstances. Oftentimes, we feel we are powerless, with no ability to change—even in small ways—the course of our lives. We allow the bad weather of life to constrain us to impotence, indecision, and immobility.

Of course, we have reason to suspect the ability of our wills. The vast majority of historic Christian thinking on this subject argues that our wills are bent, broken, and bound. They are not as they ought to be. In the ancient Hebrew tradition as well, the intentions of the human heart are suspect at best. The Hebrew prophet, Jeremiah, wrote that the heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked. But what are we left with if a proper suspicion about the ability of the human will binds us from exercising it at all? We are left to wallow in puddles of self-pity and blame. We see only a distorted reflection, unable to move and to do what is good for a world on the verge of another great flood.

Our ability to exercise our wills for good depends in large part on remembering that human beings have been given great gifts. Perhaps this is part of the message to glean from the parable of the talents that Jesus spoke to his followers long ago.(1) Those who recognized the gifts they had been given went out and used them, thus increasing their impact and gaining more. The one who was given a gift but who failed to exercise it and put it to use not only received a stern condemnation from the gift-giver, but also had the gift taken away. In the same way, if our general outlook is that we can do little, affect little because the forces of this world are too great or there are too many factors to blame, then we will have weak, flabby wills, just as surely as our muscles atrophy the longer we sit and fail to go out and walk—even in the rain. Without exercise, we lose the use of our legs.

Further, it is no accident that the gospel writers place the parable of the talents within the larger context of exercising our will to help others. Jesus gives this parable in Matthew’s gospel just prior to sharing a scene of final judgment where God separates sheep from goats according to that which was done “for the least of these” (Matthew 25:45). In Luke’s gospel, Jesus gives this parable after the dramatic conversion of Zacchaeus. This extortionist, hated by all Israel, with every reason to hide his talents, became the one who gave away his money voluntarily impoverishing himself.

Psychologists offer another description. Those with a strong sense of purpose and self-efficacy have a strong internal locus of control, while those who see themselves as victims—for any number of reasons—have a strong external locus of control. For those who view themselves as weak and without gifts to offer, there can always be excuses why the will is impotent—some are quite legitimate. And yet, as the gospel writers indicate, the consequences of a lack of exercise are manifold and eternally costly. We can always find a reason to not walk in the rainy, cloudy weather of our world. But the cost of doing so impoverishes our souls, weakens our wills, and ultimately confines the light of the world behind walls God would have us remove.

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

(1) cf. Matthew 25:14-30; Luke 19:11-27.

Morning “They weave the spider’s web.” / Isaiah 59:5

See the spider’s web, and behold in it a most suggestive picture of the

hypocrite’s religion. It is meant to catch his prey: the spider fattens

himself on flies, and the Pharisee has his reward. Foolish persons are easily

entrapped by the loud professions of pretenders, and even the more judicious

cannot always escape. Philip baptized Simon Magus, whose guileful declaration

of faith was so soon exploded by the stern rebuke of Peter. Custom,

reputation, praise, advancement, and other flies, are the small game which

hypocrites take in their nets. A spider’s web is a marvel of skill: look at it

and admire the cunning hunter’s wiles. Is not a deceiver’s religion equally

wonderful? How does he make so barefaced a lie appear to be a truth? How can

he make his tinsel answer so well the purpose of gold? A spider’s web comes

all from the creature’s own bowels. The bee gathers her wax from flowers, the

spider sucks no flowers, and yet she spins out her material to any length.

Even so hypocrites find their trust and hope within themselves; their anchor

was forged on their own anvil, and their cable twisted by their own hands.

They lay their own foundation, and hew out the pillars of their own house,

disdaining to be debtors to the sovereign grace of God. But a spider’s web is

very frail. It is curiously wrought, but not enduringly manufactured. It is no

match for the servant’s broom, or the traveller’s staff. The hypocrite needs

no battery of Armstrongs to blow his hope to pieces, a mere puff of wind will

do it. Hypocritical cobwebs will soon come down when the besom of destruction

begins its purifying work. Which reminds us of one more thought, viz., that

such cobwebs are not to be endured in the Lord’s house: he will see to it that

they and those who spin them shall be destroyed forever. O my soul, be thou

resting on something better than a spider’s web. Be the Lord Jesus thine

eternal hiding-place.

 

Evening “All things are possible to him that believeth.” / Mark 9:23

Many professed Christians are always doubting and fearing, and they forlornly

think that this is the necessary state of believers. This is a mistake, for

“all things are possible to him that believeth”; and it is possible for us to

mount into a state in which a doubt or a fear shall be but as a bird of

passage flitting across the soul, but never lingering there. When you read of

the high and sweet communions enjoyed by favoured saints, you sigh and murmur

in the chamber of your heart, “Alas! these are not for me.” O climber, if thou

hast but faith, thou shalt yet stand upon the sunny pinnacle of the temple,

for “all things are possible to him that believeth.” You hear of exploits

which holy men have done for Jesus; what they have enjoyed of him; how much

they have been like him; how they have been able to endure great persecutions

for his sake; and you say, “Ah! as for me, I am but a worm; I can never attain

to this.” But there is nothing which one saint was, that you may not be. There

is no elevation of grace, no attainment of spirituality, no clearness of

assurance, no post of duty, which is not open to you if you have but the power

to believe. Lay aside your sackcloth and ashes, and rise to the dignity of

your true position; you are little in Israel because you will be so, not

because there is any necessity for it. It is not meet that thou shouldst

grovel in the dust, O child of a King. Ascend! The golden throne of assurance

is waiting for you! The crown of communion with Jesus is ready to bedeck your

brow. Wrap yourself in scarlet and fine linen, and fare sumptuously every day;

for if thou believest, thou mayst eat the fat of kidneys of wheat; thy land

shall flow with milk and honey, and thy soul shall be satisfied as with marrow

and fatness. Gather golden sheaves of grace, for they await thee in the fields

of faith. “All things are possible to him that believeth.”

All things are possible for one who believes.    Mark 9:23

Many professed Christians are always doubting and fearing, and they forlornly think that this is the inevitable state of believers. This is a mistake, for “all things are possible for one who believes”; and it is possible for us to arrive at a place where a doubt or a fear shall be like a migrant bird flitting across the soul but never lingering there. When you read of the high and sweet communions enjoyed by favored saints, you sigh and murmur in the chamber of your heart, “Sadly, these are not for me.”

But, climber, if you exercise your faith, you will before long stand on the sunny pinnacle of the temple, for “all things are possible for one who believes.” You hear of exploits that holy men have done for Jesus—what they have enjoyed of Him, how much they have been like Him, how they have been able to endure great persecutions for His sake—and you say, “But as for me, I am useless. I can never reach these heights.”

But there is nothing that one saint was that you may not be. There is no elevation of grace, no attainment of spirituality, no clearness of assurance, no place of duty, that is not open to you if you have but the power to believe. Lay aside your sackcloth and ashes, and rise to the dignity of your true position; you are impoverished not because you have to be but because you want to be. It is not right that you, a child of the King, should grovel in the dust. Rise! The golden throne of assurance is waiting for you! The crown of communion with Jesus is ready to adorn your brow. Wrap yourself in scarlet and fine linen, and eat lavishly every day; for if you believe, you can eat the royal portion, your land will flow with milk and honey, and your soul shall be satisfied in God. Gather golden sheaves of grace, for they await you in the fields of faith. “All things are possible for one who believes.”

Family Reading Plan    Jeremiah 36     Psalm 9