Christ began His public ministry with baptism. At the time, John the Baptist was calling people to confess their sins and demonstrate repentance through immersion in the river. So why did Jesus, the sinless One, ask to be baptized? At first, John actually refused, knowing Christ was the “Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). But Jesus wasn’t demonstrating repentance; He was sacrificially identifying with sinful humankind.

As Christians, we’re called to follow His example in all things, becoming more like Him as we grow in our faith. That’s why baptism is the first step in following Jesus. As He was willing to identify Himself with us, we publicly identify with Him when we are baptized, which is a symbolic way of declaring, “I have trusted Jesus Christ as my Savior and believe that the debt of my sin is fully paid through His sacrifice. I believe that as He rose from the dead, I will also be resurrected through Him. I look forward to walking in God’s will while I’m on the earth and living with Him throughout eternity. Since He loved me enough to identify Himself with me in my sin, I will show my love for Him by following His example right now, and for the rest of my days.”

Baptism demonstrates our connection not only with Christ but also with our spiritual brothers and sisters–past, present, and future. We’re joining everyone who has walked before us in faith, saying that we are members of one body, redeemed and brought to life by the same Lord.

 On my first day at seminary, I met my husband in the cafeteria. We were married a year and a half later. What I remember about our first meeting was my husband’s long, black hair tucked neatly under his New York Yankees baseball cap. The bits and pieces of our first conversation have faded quite a bit. But I do remember, as we dined on institutional fare, that we spoke of our favorite movies, places we had visited, and our plans after seminary. I learned enough about my future husband that night to know I liked him and hoped I would be able to dine with him again, preferably over better food.

 On that night, many years ago now, I skimmed the surface of the depths of the man who would become my husband. Real knowledge of who he was, and who we were together would be an unfolding process. Certainly, learning facts about my husband helped me to get to know him, but simply knowing facts about him did not encompass knowing him. Knowing him emerged as we forged a life together—a life filled with ups and downs, challenges and opportunities, ‘for better and for worse.’ Real knowledge emerged when I stopped looking at the ‘facts’ about my husband, and began to look through him, understanding the world through his perspective, seeing the world through his eyes. Knowing him and loving him became inseparable.

 The knowledge that can arise in the context of intimate relationship offers a helpful picture for understanding the declaration of Jesus that he “is the way, the truth and the life” (John 14:6). Truth is a person and is not simply arriving at all the right facts about a subject, nor is it exclusively contained within the world of philosophical systems, theological constructs, or clever argumentation.  Truth is inherently relational and is bound up in the knowledge of persons. When the author of Hebrews explains that “in these last days God has spoken to us in the Son,” there is the underlying assumption that this person is God’s definitive Word to humanity—God’s truth revealed in the person of Jesus (Hebrews 1:1-2). When we know Jesus we know the truth, and that truth is bound up in relational knowledge.

 The temptation, of course, is to equate knowledge with facts about someone or something. When we think we know certain things about someone, or certain ideas about something, we think we know the truth. This kind of knowledge breeds arrogance, as the apostle Paul suggests in 1 Corinthians 8:1-3. “If anyone supposes that he knows anything, he has not yet known as he ought to know; but if anyone loves God, he is known by God.” How does one come to love God? Is it by accumulating doctrines and principles and ideas about God? Or is it by living in relationship—coming to know the God revealed in the person of Jesus? Knowledge, Paul suggests, is bound up in love for God. More than knowing the facts about the God revealed in Jesus, true knowledge flows from relationship; relationship colors our vision, informs our living, and penetrates our very being so that we begin to see truth through knowing Jesus. And as we truly know Jesus, just as in any relationship, we begin to see the world through the eyes of the beloved.

 As I remember my husband now, I think of a shared life together and not simply “facts” about him. Events, memories, impressions, and feelings all serve as the lines and colors of the picture of him in my mind. Even though he is gone, I find that I often think about how he might see something now, what he might think, or how he might respond if he were still with me. 

 In some similar ways, becoming a follower of Jesus encompasses personal and intimate knowledge based on love for the God who gave Jesus as a love gift to the world. As we love God “we are known by God” in return. In this sense, we have a new understanding, and are on our way to a new definition of knowledge as love. This kind of knowledge does not pre-empt study, learning or ‘facts.’ Rather, as N.T. Wright has written concerning the study of Jesus, “We might perhaps expect that in studying Jesus himself we would find the clue to understanding not only the object we can see through the telescope, the voice we can hear on the telephone, but the nature of sight and hearing themselves. Studying Jesus, in other words, might lead to a reappraisal of the theory of knowledge itself.”(1)

 Indeed, real knowledge occurs within the context of relationship since knowledge is relational in character.  Therefore, real knowledge involves love and is greater than simply the pursuit of an object. It is the pursuit of a relational subject. Viewing knowledge as love allows one to stop looking at someone, and start looking through him or her. For people who claim to follow Jesus the same is true: we stop looking at Jesus, and start looking through him.

 Margaret Manning is a member of the Speaking and Writing Teams at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Seattle, Washington.

 (1) N.T. Wright, The New Testament and the People of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992), 96.

Morning “Thou, Lord, hast made me glad through thy work.” / Psalm 92:4

Do you believe that your sins are forgiven, and that Christ has made a full
atonement for them? Then what a joyful Christian you ought to be! How you
should live above the common trials and troubles of the world! Since sin is
forgiven, can it matter what happens to you now? Luther said, “Smite, Lord,
smite, for my sin is forgiven; if thou hast but forgiven me, smite as hard as
thou wilt;” and in a similar spirit you may say, “Send sickness, poverty,
losses, crosses, persecution, what thou wilt, thou hast forgiven me, and my
soul is glad.” Christian, if thou art thus saved, whilst thou art glad, be
grateful and loving. Cling to that cross which took thy sin away; serve thou
him who served thee. “I beseech you therefore, by the mercies of God, that ye
present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is
your reasonable service.” Let not your zeal evaporate in some little
ebullition of song. Show your love in expressive tokens. Love the brethren of
him who loved you. If there be a Mephibosheth anywhere who is lame or halt,
help him for Jonathan’s sake. If there be a poor tried believer, weep with
him, and bear his cross for the sake of him who wept for thee and carried thy
sins. Since thou art thus forgiven freely for Christ’s sake, go and tell to
others the joyful news of pardoning mercy. Be not contented with this
unspeakable blessing for thyself alone, but publish abroad the story of the
cross. Holy gladness and holy boldness will make you a good preacher, and all
the world will be a pulpit for you to preach in. Cheerful holiness is the most
forcible of sermons, but the Lord must give it you. Seek it this morning
before you go into the world. When it is the Lord’s work in which we rejoice,
we need not be afraid of being too glad.

Evening “I know their sorrows.” / Exodus 3:7

The child is cheered as he sings, “This my father knows;” and shall not we be
comforted as we discern that our dear Friend and tender soul-husband knows all
about us?

1. He is the Physician, and if he knows all, there is no need that the patient
should know. Hush, thou silly, fluttering heart, prying, peeping, and
suspecting! What thou knowest not now, thou shalt know hereafter, and
meanwhile Jesus, the beloved Physician, knows thy soul in adversities. Why
need the patient analyze all the medicine, or estimate all the symptoms? This
is the Physician’s work, not mine; it is my business to trust, and his to
prescribe. If he shall write his prescription in uncouth characters which I
cannot read, I will not be uneasy on that account, but rely upon his unfailing
skill to make all plain in the result, however mysterious in the working.

2. He is the Master, and his knowledge is to serve us instead of our own; we
are to obey, not to judge: “The servant knoweth not what his lord doeth.”
Shall the architect explain his plans to every hodman on the works? If he
knows his own intent, is it not enough? The vessel on the wheel cannot guess
to what pattern it shall be conformed, but if the potter understands his art,
what matters the ignorance of the clay? My Lord must not be cross-questioned
any more by one so ignorant as I am.

3. He is the Head. All understanding centres there. What judgment has the arm?
What comprehension has the foot? All the power to know lies in the head. Why
should the member have a brain of its own when the head fulfils for it every
intellectual office? Here, then, must the believer rest his comfort in
sickness, not that he himself can see the end, but that Jesus knows all. Sweet
Lord, be thou forever eye, and soul, and head for us, and let us be content to
know only what thou choosest to reveal.

I know their sufferings.  Exodus 3:7

The child is cheered as he sings, “This my father knows”; and shall we not be comforted as we discern that our dear and tender Friend knows all about us?

1. He is the Physician, and if He knows everything, there is no need for the patient to know. Calm down, you silly, fluttering heart, prying, peeping, and suspecting! What you don’t know now, you will know later; and meanwhile Jesus, the beloved Physician, knows your soul in adversities. Why does the patient need to analyze all the medicine or estimate all the symptoms? This is the Physician’s work, not mine; it is my business to trust, and His to prescribe. If He shall write His prescription in a fashion that I cannot read, I will not be uneasy on that account, but will rely upon His unfailing skill to make everything clear in the result, no matter how mysterious the process.

2. He is the Master, and His knowledge is to serve us instead of our own; we are to obey, not to judge: “The servant does not know what his master is doing.”1 Shall the architect explain his plans to every bricklayer on the job? If he knows his own intent, is it not enough? The pot upon the wheel cannot guess to what pattern it will be conformed, but if the potter understands his art, the ignorance of the clay is irrelevant. My Lord must not be cross-questioned any more by one so ignorant as I am.

3. He is the Head. All understanding centers there. What judgment has the arm? What comprehension has the foot? All the power to know lies in the head. Why should the member have a brain of its own when the head fulfills for it every intellectual office? Here, then, the believer must rest his comfort in sickness—not that he himself can see the end, but that Jesus knows all. Sweet Lord, be forever eye and soul and head for us, and let us be content to know only what You choose to reveal.

1John 15:15

Family Reading Plan  Jeremiah 42   Psalm 18