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

Jesus commissioned His followers to go and make disciples, “baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit” (Matt. 28:19). As the early church spread the gospel message, baptism would follow a new believer’s response of faith. It publicly signified that the individual was now a follower of Jesus

Metaphors often communicate on a level that words cannot. Baptism is a powerful picture of our salvation experience. Through this act, we proclaim the good news that Jesus died for our sins, was buried, and rose again–and testify that we’ve welcomed His transforming power into our life.

The Greek word for “baptize” in Scripture is the same term used to describe a cloth dipped in dye–it refers to total change. So by being plunged into the water, we declare that we’re choosing to die to our old way of life and are uniting with Christ. Our sin is buried with Him, and its power is conquered through His atoning death on the cross (Rom. 6:14). When we’re raised up out of the water, we affirm His resurrection. Baptism is a symbolic way of expressing that just as the Lord conquered death and rose again, we are spiritually resurrected from death into new life. We are “born again” and irrevocably transformed through the power of His Holy Spirit.

In the Bible, the word “believe” isn’t a conceptual word describing intellectual agreement alone. It is a word of action. Our belief should never be hidden like a light placed under a bowl (Luke 11:33)–when unbelieving family and friends look at our lives, they need to see the gospel in action.

Researchers have stumbled onto a subject that has long been tested, though perhaps never before quite so clinically.  Over the last decade, millions of dollars have been spent on testing the effects of prayer in the field of medicine.  The studies, which have targeted an assortment of medical conditions and religious traditions, have attracted criticism from all over the place. Some argue that science has no place exploring matters of religion. Others note the impossibility of creating a controlled environment or securing viable results. Still others argue these experiments at the outset have a faulty understanding of both God and prayer. The opinions of those conducting the studies are equally varied. One scientist insists the tests are meant to answer practical questions and not religious ones; another thanks God in the official report of his findings. Nearly all involved agree that such studies are difficult, but that the subject is one worth testing, however little we understand it.(1)   

 That one’s prayers are with the sick, troubled, or grieving is a promise often uttered. It is a phrase heard both within and outside of Christian circles: “My prayers are with you.” It is a promise that could perhaps be met with cynicism. Is he really praying for me? Are her words a goodhearted turn of phrase and little more? The well-meaning words are undoubtedly uttered from time to time without much follow-through—or intention for that matter. But more often, the thought is received as it is likely intended. It is encouraging to know that someone is thinking of you, that his thoughts and prayers are with you, hoping or crying out with your own. The late atheist Christopher Hitchens said he was touched by the thought that he was in people’s prayers.(2) The assuring words remind the one struggling that they are not standing entirely alone in the darkness. And certainly that is a powerful thought in the midst of pain and uncertainty, as many scientists and psychologists have discovered.

 But what about the times when someone has told you that they are praying for you, and you know that they are doing exactly that: crying out to God on your behalf. Have you ever heard anyone say that they could sense the prayers of believers moving them through a difficult situation? For these people, the power of prayer moves well beyond encouragement.

 In fact, when uttered on sincere lips, “I’m praying for you” can be as frightening a thought as it is encouraging. Someone is standing before God with your name on her heart, rebelling against the status quo, refusing, like the woman before the judge, to take no for an answer. This introduces an entirely new set of concerns: Is she praying for me the way I’d like things to turn out? Is he asking God for the answer I’m hoping for? When my dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer, I was livid when someone told me they were praying that God would take him home quickly—despite the fact that in between our cries for healing, we were praying that God would simply be near and real and in control. As someone once noted, prayer requires more of the heart than of the tongue. Knowing that someone is standing before God on your behalf is powerful not because she is standing with you but because she is standing with God.

 The apostle Paul often voiced in his letters gratitude for the prayers of believers on his behalf. In and out of jail, in abundance and in lack, he saw them participate in bringing about God’s purposes in his life through their prayers for him. To the Philippian church he wrote, “Yes, and I will continue to rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and the help given by the Spirit of Jesus Christ, what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance” (1:19). He did not thank them for praying that what had happened to him would be altogether reversed, but that the purposes of God would be accomplished in all things. Paul saw the power in prayers that hope and expect with all boldness that Christ will be exalted whether by life or by death.

 As one has said, “Prayer is not about overcoming God’s reluctance, but laying hold of his willingness.” Perhaps the best studies in prayer are in the lives of those who see that its power lies wholly in the one in whom we pray. 

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

 (1) Benson H, Dusek JA, Sherwood JB, et al. (April 2006), “Study of the Therapeutic Effects of Intercessory Prayer (STEP) in cardiac bypass patients: a multicenter randomized trial of uncertainty and certainty of receiving intercessory prayer,” American Heart Journal, 934–42.
(2) Ross Douthat, “Prayers For Christopher Hitchens,” The New York Times, July 15, 2010.

Morning “The cedars of Lebanon which he hath planted.” / Psalm 104:16

Lebanon’s cedars are emblematic of the Christian, in that they owe their
planting entirely to the Lord. This is quite true of every child of God. He is
not man-planted, nor self-planted, but God-planted. The mysterious hand of the
divine Spirit dropped the living seed into a heart which he had himself
prepared for its reception. Every true heir of heaven owns the great
Husbandman as his planter. Moreover, the cedars of Lebanon are not dependent
upon man for their watering; they stand on the lofty rock, unmoistened by
human irrigation; and yet our heavenly Father supplieth them. Thus it is with
the Christian who has learned to live by faith. He is independent of man, even
in temporal things; for his continued maintenance he looks to the Lord his
God, and to him alone. The dew of heaven is his portion, and the God of heaven
is his fountain. Again, the cedars of Lebanon are not protected by any mortal
power. They owe nothing to man for their preservation from stormy wind and
tempest. They are God’s trees, kept and preserved by him, and by him alone. It
is precisely the same with the Christian. He is not a hot-house plant,
sheltered from temptation; he stands in the most exposed position; he has no
shelter, no protection, except this, that the broad wings of the eternal God
always cover the cedars which he himself has planted. Like cedars, believers
are full of sap, having vitality enough to be ever green, even amid winter’s
snows. Lastly, the flourishing and majestic condition of the cedar is to the
praise of God only. The Lord, even the Lord alone hath been everything unto
the cedars, and, therefore David very sweetly puts it in one of the psalms,
“Praise ye the Lord, fruitful trees and all cedars.” In the believer there is
nothing that can magnify man; he is planted, nourished, and protected by the
Lord’s own hand, and to him let all the glory be ascribed.

Evening “And I will remember my covenant.” / Genesis 9:15

Mark the form of the promise. God does not say, “And when ye shall look upon
the bow, and ye shall remember my covenant, then I will not destroy the
earth,” but it is gloriously put, not upon our memory, which is fickle and
frail, but upon God’s memory, which is infinite and immutable. “The bow shall
be in the cloud; and I will look upon it, that I may remember the everlasting
covenant.” Oh! it is not my remembering God, it is God’s remembering me which
is the ground of my safety; it is not my laying hold of his covenant, but his
covenant’s laying hold on me. Glory be to God! the whole of the bulwarks of
salvation are secured by divine power, and even the minor towers, which we may
imagine might have been left to man, are guarded by almighty strength. Even
the remembrance of the covenant is not left to our memories, for we might
forget, but our Lord cannot forget the saints whom he has graven on the palms
of his hands. It is with us as with Israel in Egypt; the blood was upon the
lintel and the two side-posts, but the Lord did not say, “When you see the
blood I will pass over you,” but “When I see the blood I will pass over you.”
My looking to Jesus brings me joy and peace, but it is God’s looking to Jesus
which secures my salvation and that of all his elect, since it is impossible
for our God to look at Christ, our bleeding Surety, and then to be angry with
us for sins already punished in him. No, it is not left with us even to be
saved by remembering the covenant. There is no linsey-wolsey here–not a
single thread of the creature mars the fabric. It is not of man, neither by
man, but of the Lord alone. We should remember the covenant, and we shall do
it, through divine grace; but the hinge of our safety does not hang there–it
is God’s remembering us, not our remembering him; and hence the covenant is an
everlasting covenant.

I will remember my covenant. Genesis 9:15

Note the form of this promise. God does not say, “And when you shall look upon the bow, and you shall remember My covenant, then I will not destroy the earth,” but it is gloriously put, not upon our memory, which is fickle and frail, but upon God’s memory, which is infinite and immutable. “When . . . the bow is seen in the clouds, I will remember my covenant.” It is not my remembering God—it is God’s remembering me that is the ground of my safety; it is not my laying hold of His covenant, but His covenant’s laying hold on me. Glory be to God!

The ramparts of salvation are secured by divine power, and even the minor towers, which we could imagine being left to man, are guarded by almighty strength. Even the remembrance of the covenant is not left to our memories, for we might forget; but our Lord cannot forget the names of those whom He has graven on the palms of His hands. It is with us as it was with Israel in Egypt; the blood was upon the lintel and the two side-posts, but the Lord did not say, “When you see the blood I will pass over you,” but “When I see the blood I will pass over you.”

My looking to Jesus brings me joy and peace, but it is God’s looking to Jesus that secures my salvation and that of all His elect, since it is impossible for our God to look at Christ, our bleeding Surety, and then to be angry with us for sins already punished in Him. It is not left with us even to be saved by remembering the covenant. There is not a single thread of human effort in this fabric. It is not of man, neither by man, but of the Lord alone. We should remember the covenant, and we shall do it, through divine grace; but the hinge of our safety does not hang there—it is God’s remembering us, not our remembering Him; and hence the covenant is an everlasting covenant.

Family Reading Plan Jeremiah 41 Psalm 17

The difficulties we face originate from one of three sources. Some are sent to us by the Lord to test our faith, others are the result of Satan’s attacks, and still others are due to our own sinful choices.

As you consider these three causes, which type is the hardest for you to bear? I think most of us would say the last one, because we have nobody to blame but ourselves and it seems as if no good can possibly result. After all, the Word of God says that we will reap what we have sown (Gal. 6:7), so we see nothing ahead except a painful harvest.

What this kind of thinking fails to take into account is the Lord’s redemptive abilities. Although He never promises to remove all the consequences of sin, He can use our failures to teach us to fear Him, hate evil, and walk in obedience. The difficult lessons we learn can also become our protection from sin in the future. Having suffered the pain of going our own way, we’re more likely not to take that path again.

God’s arrows of affliction are sharp and painful so He can get our attention. He won’t let His beloved children get away with sin because He knows it robs us of blessings, opportunities, and even character refinement.

As painful as your situation may be, thank your heavenly Father that He cares enough to send out His loving discipline. Now it’s up to you. How will you respond to His warning? When we learn from experience, the scars of sin can lead us to restoration and a renewed intimacy with God.

 At a funeral service in 1742, two men remembered as giants of the faith stood beside their mother’s grave. John Wesley conducted the services; his brother Charles wrote the epitaph for the tombstone. In part, it read: 

 A Christian here her flesh laid down,
the cross exchanging for a crown.
True daughter of affliction, she,
inured to pain and misery…

The Father then revealed his Son;
him in the broken bread made known;
She knew and felt her sins forgiven,
and found the earnest of her heaven.

 Susanna Wesley was a woman her husband called the best of mothers. Hopeful that her children would come to know and love the Christ she loved, Susanna reserved a specific day and time each week to sit and discuss matters of God and things on their hearts. The time spent together was cherished by all, such that many continued the discussions with their mother well into adulthood through letter-writing. Once asking his mother for a definition of sin, John Wesley received a response fit for the theology books he was writing. “Take this rule,” she wrote to John. “Whatever weakens your reason, impairs the tenderness of your conscience, obscures your sense of God, or takes off your relish of spiritual things…that thing is sin to you, however innocent it may be in itself.”(1)

 Having an opportunity for education available to few women of her time, as a young woman Susanna seized the occasion. And she continued to seize occasions to learn and teach others. While her husband was away preaching, Susanna adopted the practice of reading sermons from the library aloud to her family. Word of the weekly meetings held in her kitchen quickly spread, until over two hundred were gathering regularly, and the parsonage could hardly contain those who came to hear.   It was in such a setting that John, who would become a fervent preacher, and Charles, who would become a great hymnist, were raised.     

 Though her life was marked by a determined pursuit of God, it was also marked with hardship. Nine of the 19 children born to Samuel and Susanna Wesley died in infancy. Two different times their home was destroyed by fire, one time nearly taking John’s life. They also lived in severe poverty. Yet her determined faith was one she insisted on sharing, and perhaps for this reason there was not a greater force upon eighteenth-century England than her children.  

 Shortly before she died, Susanna had a long talk with John in which she described her greatest struggle in faith. For years, she admitted, she labored with doubt and confusion in regards to her salvation. She had scarcely ever heard, or so believed, that forgiveness of sins was something offered in the present. Yet, she described finding herself one day suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of peace in God’s love for her and forgiveness of everything else. In his journal John recounts her description of that moment.  “Said she, ‘[T]wo or three weeks ago, while my son Hall was pronouncing those words, in delivering the cup to me, ‘The blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, which was given for thee,’ the words struck through my heart and I knew God for Christ’s sake had forgiven me all my sins.'”(2)

 Charles alludes to his mother’s experience with Christ in the last lines of the epitaph marking her grave. In the broken bread, the Father revealed his Son to Susanna Wesley: And she knew and felt her sins forgiven, and found the earnest of her heaven. In the cup of faith and broken bread, the love of God was unobscured, handed to her literally. The same gift of God’s assuring touch is something we can hold today.  

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

 (1) Letters of Susanna Wesley, June 8, 1725.
(2) The Journal of John Wesley, Ed. Percy Livingstone Parker, (Chicago: Moody Press, 1951).

Morning “Christ, who is our life.” / Colossians 3:4

Paul’s marvellously rich expression indicates, that Christ is the source of
our life. “You hath he quickened who were dead in trespasses and sins.” That
same voice which brought Lazarus out of the tomb raised us to newness of life.
He is now the substance of our spiritual life. It is by his life that we live;
he is in us, the hope of glory, the spring of our actions, the central thought
which moves every other thought. Christ is the sustenance of our life. What
can the Christian feed upon but Jesus’ flesh and blood? “This is the bread
which cometh down from heaven, that a man may eat thereof, and not die.” O
wayworn pilgrims in this wilderness of sin, you never get a morsel to satisfy
the hunger of your spirits, except ye find it in him! Christ is the solace of
our life. All our true joys come from him; and in times of trouble, his
presence is our consolation. There is nothing worth living for but him; and
his lovingkindness is better than life! Christ is the object of our life. As
speeds the ship towards the port, so hastes the believer towards the haven of
his Saviour’s bosom. As flies the arrow to its goal, so flies the Christian
towards the perfecting of his fellowship with Christ Jesus. As the soldier
fights for his captain, and is crowned in his captain’s victory, so the
believer contends for Christ, and gets his triumph out of the triumphs of his
Master. “For him to live is Christ.” Christ is the exemplar of our life. Where
there is the same life within, there will, there must be, to a great extent,
the same developments without; and if we live in near fellowship with the Lord
Jesus we shall grow like him. We shall set him before us as our Divine copy,
and we shall seek to tread in his footsteps, until he shall become the crown
of our life in glory. Oh! how safe, how honoured, how happy is the Christian,
since Christ is our life!

Evening “The Son of Man hath power on earth to forgive sins.” / Matthew 9:6

Behold one of the great Physician’s mightiest arts: he has power to forgive
sin! While here he lived below, before the ransom had been paid, before the
blood had been literally sprinkled on the mercy-seat, he had power to forgive
sin. Hath he not power to do it now that he hath died? What power must dwell
in him who to the utmost farthing has faithfully discharged the debts of his
people! He has boundless power now that he has finished transgression and made
an end of sin. If ye doubt it, see him rising from the dead! behold him in
ascending splendour raised to the right hand of God! Hear him pleading before
the eternal Father, pointing to his wounds, urging the merit of his sacred
passion! What power to forgive is here! “He hath ascended on high, and
received gifts for men.” “He is exalted on high to give repentance and
remission of sins.” The most crimson sins are removed by the crimson of his
blood. At this moment, dear reader, whatever thy sinfulness, Christ has power
to pardon, power to pardon thee, and millions such as thou art. A word will
speak it. He has nothing more to do to win thy pardon; all the atoning work is
done. He can, in answer to thy tears, forgive thy sins today, and make thee
know it. He can breathe into thy soul at this very moment a peace with God
which passeth all understanding, which shall spring from perfect remission of
thy manifold iniquities. Dost thou believe that? I trust thou believest it.
Mayst thou experience now the power of Jesus to forgive sin! Waste no time in
applying to the Physician of souls, but hasten to him with words like these:–

“Jesus! Master! hear my cry;

Save me, heal me with a word;

Fainting at thy feet I lie,

Thou my whisper’d plaint hast heard.”

The Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins.   Matthew 9:6

 Consider here the Great Physician’s mighty power: the power to forgive sin! While He lived here below, before the ransom had been paid, before the blood had been literally sprinkled on the mercy-seat, He had power to forgive sin. Has He no power to do it now that He has died? What power must dwell in Him who to the utmost penny has faithfully discharged the debts of His people! He has unlimited power now that He has finished transgression and made an end of sin. If you doubt it, see Him rising from the dead! Behold Him in ascending splendor, raised to the right hand of God! Hear Him pleading before the eternal Father, pointing to His wounds, declaring the merit of His sacred passion!

What power to forgive is here! He ascended on high, and He gave gifts to men. He is exalted on high to give repentance and forgiveness of sins. The most crimson sins are removed by the crimson of His blood. At this moment, dear reader, whatever your sinfulness, Christ has power to pardon, power to pardon you, and millions just like you. A word will speak it. He has nothing more to do to win your pardon; all the atoning work is done.

He can, in answer to your tears, forgive your sins today and make you know it. He can breathe into your soul at this very moment a peace with God that passes all understanding, which shall spring from perfect remission of your many iniquities. Do you believe that? I trust you believe it. May you even now experience the power of Jesus to forgive sin! Waste no time in applying to the Physician of souls; hasten to Him with words like these:

Jesus! Master! hear my cry;

Save me, heal me with a word;

Fainting at Thy feet I lie,

Thou my whisper’d plea has heard.

Family Reading Plan Jeremiah 38  Psalm 11

James 1:2-4

Are you wasting your troubles? Anytime God allows trials to enter your life, He has a purpose for them. He wants you to squeeze out every ounce of spiritual growth instead of letting difficulties squeeze you into despair and discouragement. If you’ll just respond in the right manner, the trial that looks as if it could destroy you will become an instrument of blessing.

The most natural response to adversity is to groan and plead with the Lord to remove it. If that doesn’t work, we might get angry or try to find our own way out of the difficulty or pain. Sometimes we resort to blaming others for the trouble. And in truth, someone else might have caused the problem, but ultimately God allowed it. No matter where affliction originates, who is involved, or how evil their intentions, by the time it reaches you, it’s been dipped in the Father’s love and shaped to accomplish His good purpose. The question is, will you cooperate with Him, or will you resist?

Perhaps the key word is found in verse 4 of today’s reading. God wants to use your trial to develop spiritual maturity, but unless you let it do its work, that opportunity will be lost. If we could foresee all the benefits the Lord designed our trials to accomplish, maybe we’d be more cooperative.

Although we can’t see all the specifics of God’s plan, we know that His goal is to use our adversity to supply something we lack so we can be mature and complete. Even though the experience is painful, rest in the Father’s comforting arms, and let Him do His perfect work in you.

A charge that some people make is that religion in general and Christianity in particular are irrational. It’s ridiculous to believe in God, they say; there’s no evidence that God even exists! Richard Dawkins, in his best selling book The God Delusion, makes this very claim, saying that faith in God is just like belief in Santa Claus!

 But of course, there’s a major problem with comparing faith in God to belief in Santa Claus. I don’t know anybody who came to believe in Santa Claus in adulthood. Yet I know many Christians—often former atheists—who discovered God as adults. This alone should tell you that God and Santa are utterly different. (If they weren’t, one wonders why Richard Dawkins didn’t write “The Santa Delusion.”) Furthermore, thousands upon thousands of great thinkers— now, and throughout history, have believed in God. That alone suggests that belief in God is hardly “irrational.”

 But what about the other claim: “You can’t prove God exists!” What might a believing person say to skeptics? Well, I might start by gently pointing out that there are many good arguments that, whilst not proving God exists, certainly suggest God’s existence is extremely likely. There are philosophical arguments, such as the cosmological argument: (i) everything that begins to exist had a cause; (ii) the universe began to exist; (iii) therefore the universe had a cause. Most philosophers would say that’s a powerful argument.

 There are also arguments from design. The universe and the laws of nature look, as one physicist once put it, suspiciously like a put up job. Or we might talk about the purpose that seems to be inherent in life. Most of us intuitively know that life has meaning and purpose. Indeed, a question one might fire back at our atheist friends concerns this very point: how does the atheist avoid nihilism, the view that life is meaningless, pointless, and nothing really matters. The question for the nihilist becomes “Why not suicide”?

 The Christian would also want to point out that the deepest things that matter to us as humans all lie beyond the physical and the material: morality and meaning, love and friendship, beauty and truth. All of these don’t fit happily with atheism: “Darwinian mistakes,” Richard Dawkins once called them. That to me is tragic.

 But perhaps the most powerful evidence for God is the one the Bible uses most consistently. The Bible doesn’t offer an argument for God, rather it points to God’s involvement in the world. Most significantly, that would be how, in the person of Jesus Christ, the God who created the world took on flesh and stepped into our world to rescue and save it. This is not a distant, remote, theoretical God, but a God who is very much alive. That’s a quite different proposition—and if that God exists, that changes everything. C. S. Lewis put it this way: “I believe in Christianity in the same way as I believe that the sun has risen. Not because I see it, but that by it, I see everything else.”

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

 Morning “The city hath no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it.” / Revelation 21:23

 Yonder in the better world, the inhabitants are independent of all creature

comforts. They have no need of raiment; their white robes never wear out,

neither shall they ever be defiled. They need no medicine to heal diseases,

“for the inhabitant shall not say, I am sick.” They need no sleep to recruit

their frames–they rest not day nor night, but unweariedly praise him in his

temple. They need no social relationship to minister comfort, and whatever

happiness they may derive from association with their fellows is not essential

to their bliss, for their Lord’s society is enough for their largest desires.

They need no teachers there; they doubtless commune with one another

concerning the things of God, but they do not require this by way of

instruction; they shall all be taught of the Lord. Ours are the alms at the

king’s gate, but they feast at the table itself. Here we lean upon the

friendly arm, but there they lean upon their Beloved and upon him alone. Here

we must have the help of our companions, but there they find all they want in

Christ Jesus. Here we look to the meat which perisheth, and to the raiment

which decays before the moth, but there they find everything in God. We use

the bucket to fetch us water from the well, but there they drink from the

fountain head, and put their lips down to the living water. Here the angels

bring us blessings, but we shall want no messengers from heaven then. They

shall need no Gabriels there to bring their love-notes from God, for there

they shall see him face to face. Oh! what a blessed time shall that be when we

shall have mounted above every second cause and shall rest upon the bare arm

of God! What a glorious hour when God, and not his creatures; the Lord, and

not his works, shall be our daily joy! Our souls shall then have attained the

perfection of bliss.

Evening “He appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had cast seven devils.” /

Mark 16:9

 Mary of Magdala was the victim of a fearful evil. She was possessed by not one

devil only, but seven. These dreadful inmates caused much pain and pollution

to the poor frame in which they had found a lodging. Hers was a hopeless,

horrible case. She could not help herself, neither could any human succour

avail. But Jesus passed that way, and unsought, and probably even resisted by

the poor demoniac, he uttered the word of power, and Mary of Magdala became a

trophy of the healing power of Jesus. All the seven demons left her, left her

never to return, forcibly ejected by the Lord of all. What a blessed

deliverance! What a happy change! From delirium to delight, from despair to

peace, from hell to heaven! Straightway she became a constant follower of

Jesus, catching his every word, following his devious steps, sharing his

toilsome life; and withal she became his generous helper, first among that

band of healed and grateful women who ministered unto him of their substance.

When Jesus was lifted up in crucifixion, Mary remained the sharer of his

shame: we find her first beholding from afar, and then drawing near to the

foot of the cross. She could not die on the cross with Jesus, but she stood as

near it as she could, and when his blessed body was taken down, she watched to

see how and where it was laid. She was the faithful and watchful believer,

last at the sepulchre where Jesus slept, first at the grave whence he arose.

Her holy fidelity made her a favoured beholder of her beloved Rabboni, who

deigned to call her by her name, and to make her his messenger of good news to

the trembling disciples and Peter. Thus grace found her a maniac and made her

a minister, cast out devils and gave her to behold angels, delivered her from

Satan, and united her forever to the Lord Jesus. May I also be such a miracle

of grace!

He appeared first to Mary Magdalene, from whom he had cast out seven demons.   Mark 16:9

Mary of Magdala was the victim of a fearful evil. She was possessed not just by one demon, but by seven. These dreadful inmates caused much pain and pollution to the poor frame in which they had found a lodging. Hers was a hopeless, horrible case. She could not help herself, and no human power could set her free. But Jesus passed that way, and without being asked and probably while being resisted by the poor demoniac, He uttered the word of power, and Mary of Magdala became a trophy of the healing power of Jesus. All seven demons left her, left her never to return, forcibly ejected by the Lord of all.

What a blessed deliverance! What a happy change! From delirium to delight, from despair to peace, from hell to heaven! Immediately she became a constant follower of Jesus, listening to His every word, following His winding steps, sharing His busy life; and in all this she became His generous helper, first among that band of healed and grateful women who ministered to Him out of their means. When Jesus was lifted up in crucifixion, Mary remained the sharer of His shame: We find her first watching from a distance and then drawing near to the foot of the cross. She could not die on the cross with Jesus, but she stood as near to it as she could, and when His blessed body was taken down, she watched to see how and where it was laid.

She was the faithful and watchful believer, last at the sepulcher where Jesus slept, first at the grave where He arose. Her loyalty and love made her a favored beholder of her beloved Master, who deigned to call her by her name and to make her His messenger of good news to the trembling disciples and Peter. Grace found her useless and made her useful, cast out her demons and gave her to behold angels, delivered her from Satan and united her forever to the Lord Jesus. May we also be such miracles of grace!

 Family Reading Plan Jeremiah 37   Psalm 10

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

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.