Daniel 1:1-21

Daniel and his friends faced the same dilemma we do–how to live a holy life in a godless culture. At one time, our society readily accepted Christian values and standards, but that era is quickly passing. Our challenge today is to live under God’s authority while remaining in submission to the law of the land. At times we are forced to choose between the two, but if we’ll seek the Lord’s guidance before marching defiantly forward, He may open an alternative approach for us.

Had Daniel bluntly declared, “I won’t eat this food!” he wouldn’t have lasted long, and we wouldn’t have the book of Daniel in the Bible. But the Lord gave him the wisdom to humbly seek permission from the person who was in a position of authority over him. God honored his commitment and provided a way for him to live righteously in a pagan world.

We tend to hold up Daniel and his three friends as extraordinary people who lived amazing lives. But have you ever wondered what the Lord could do in the life of an ordinary person like you? The determining factor is not the greatness of the individual but, rather, his commitment to a God who can do remarkable things in a life fully devoted to Him. That’s the kind of people our Lord is looking for.

Although we don’t know all that God could do in our lives if we’d radically commit ourselves to Him, the thought of missing out on His plans should be enough to motivate us to obey. You don’t want to arrive in heaven and discover you forfeited blessings because you weren’t fully devoted to Him.

 “What do I really want?” a friend asked himself as if speaking the language of epiphany. He found himself initiating new interests in things, filling his time with pastimes—pining after that new thing that would change everything—when suddenly he realized that there was probably a search behind all of his searching. Why am I doing all of these things? What am I really looking for? The questions were something of an awakening.

 Someone once told me that all behavior is goal-oriented. It is simple, but for me was an incredibly rich thought. Walking through my week with the idea in mind was as striking as it was enlightening. Looking at my words, my actions, even my prayers in light of my goal, inquiring as to the motive, I realized how easy it is to be unaware of my own heart. “You don’t know what you are asking,” Jesus replied to the sons of Zebedee. Sometimes we just don’t see.     

 As singer/songwriter Rich Mullins writes, “Everybody I know says they need just one thing/And what they really mean is that they need just one thing more.” Like my friend who found himself reacting behaviorally before examining the motivation, quite often we are unaware of what we really want, and outright startled by the invitation to see more. “What do you want?” Jesus asked the blind man calling out for him.     

 How do we know what we really mean, what we really want? How do we learn to see the search behind our searching? And is it always as simple as seeing? Can we always get past the layers of self to unveil our motives?       

 For potential followers, Jesus seems to suggest that now is a good time to try, even as it may serve as a reminder that we sometimes cannot discern our motives, and often our own hearts deceive us. Writes C.S. Lewis, “Humans are very seldom either totally sincere or totally hypocritical. Their moods change, their motives are mixed, and they are often themselves quite mistaken as to what their motives are.”(1) 

 While Jesus was walking one day in the temple courts, the chief priests, the teachers of the law, and the elders came to him. “By what authority are you doing these things?” they demanded. “And who gave you authority to do this?” 

 Jesus replied with a question. “I will ask you one thing.  Answer me, and I will tell you by what authority I am doing these things.  Was John’s baptism from heaven or from men?”

 The leaders discussed it among themselves and said, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will ask, ‘Then why didn’t you believe him?’ But if we say, ‘From men’ the people will react for they believe that John really was a prophet.

 So they answered, ‘We don’t know.’ And Jesus said, “Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.”(2)

 The exchange is a telling look at human behavior. Did they see their own motives as clearly as Jesus presented them? They certainly had the capacity to reason with a goal in mind. Did they think they had out maneuvered the one before them? Or did they concede in their minds as they did in their words that Jesus was at least one step ahead of them? John reports of the one ahead of us: “[M]any believed in his name because they saw the signs that he was doing. But Jesus on his part would not entrust himself to them, because he knew all people and needed no one to testify about anyone; for he himself knew what was in everyone.”

 Christianity may not be completely unique in its invitation to prepare our hearts and minds, to examine the hidden clutter of our souls, and to see the grime and cobwebs that have accumulated. But it is unique in the way heart and clutter are seen. Christ’s is not an invitation to ever-see our need to see more, a clarion call to try harder; rather, it is an invitation to see our dire need for the one who sees. For though there are days when I cannot even see my own motives, I can entrust myself to the one who sees me, knowing that by his grace God grants his children ears to hear and eyes to see. 

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

 (1) C.S. Lewis, Yours, Jack (New York: Harper One, 2008), 343.
(2) See Mark 11:27-33.

Morning “And he goeth up into a mountain, and calleth unto him whom he would: and they came unto him.” / Mark 3:13

Here was sovereignty. Impatient spirits may fret and fume, because they are
not called to the highest places in the ministry; but reader be it thine to
rejoice that Jesus calleth whom he wills. If he shall leave me to be a
doorkeeper in his house, I will cheerfully bless him for his grace in
permitting me to do anything in his service. The call of Christ’s servants
comes from above. Jesus stands on the mountain, evermore above the world in
holiness, earnestness, love and power. Those whom he calls must go up the
mountain to him, they must seek to rise to his level by living in constant
communion with him. They may not be able to mount to classic honours, or
attain scholastic eminence, but they must like Moses go up into the mount of
God and have familiar intercourse with the unseen God, or they will never be
fitted to proclaim the gospel of peace. Jesus went apart to hold high
fellowship with the Father, and we must enter into the same divine
companionship if we would bless our fellowmen. No wonder that the apostles
were clothed with power when they came down fresh from the mountain where
Jesus was. This morning we must endeavour to ascend the mount of communion,
that there we may be ordained to the lifework for which we are set apart. Let
us not see the face of man today till we have seen Jesus. Time spent with him
is laid out at blessed interest. We too shall cast out devils and work wonders
if we go down into the world girded with that divine energy which Christ alone
can give. It is of no use going to the Lord’s battle till we are armed with
heavenly weapons. We must see Jesus, this is essential. At the mercy-seat we
will linger till he shall manifest himself unto us as he doth not unto the
world, and until we can truthfully say, “We were with him in the Holy Mount.”

Evening “Evening wolves.” / Habakkuk 1:8

While preparing the present volume, this particular expression recurred to me
so frequently, that in order to be rid of its constant importunity I
determined to give a page to it. The evening wolf, infuriated by a day of
hunger, was fiercer and more ravenous than he would have been in the morning.
May not the furious creature represent our doubts and fears after a day of
distraction of mind, losses in business, and perhaps ungenerous tauntings from
our fellow men? How our thoughts howl in our ears, “Where is now thy God?” How
voracious and greedy they are, swallowing up all suggestions of comfort, and
remaining as hungry as before. Great Shepherd, slay these evening wolves, and
bid thy sheep lie down in green pastures, undisturbed by insatiable unbelief.
How like are the fiends of hell to evening wolves, for when the flock of
Christ are in a cloudy and dark day, and their sun seems going down, they
hasten to tear and to devour. They will scarcely attack the Christian in the
daylight of faith, but in the gloom of soul conflict they fall upon him. O
thou who hast laid down thy life for the sheep, preserve them from the fangs
of the wolf.

False teachers who craftily and industriously hunt for the precious life,
devouring men by their false-hoods, are as dangerous and detestable as evening
wolves. Darkness is their element, deceit is their character, destruction is
their end. We are most in danger from them when they wear the sheep’s skin.
Blessed is he who is kept from them, for thousands are made the prey of
grievous wolves that enter within the fold of the church.

What a wonder of grace it is when fierce persecutors are converted, for then
the wolf dwells with the lamb, and men of cruel ungovernable dispositions
become gentle and teachable. O Lord, convert many such: for such we will pray
tonight.

Evening wolves   Habakkuk 1:8

While preparing the present volume, this particular expression recurred to me so frequently that in order to be rid of its constant demand I determined to give a page to it. The evening wolf, infuriated by a day of hunger, was fiercer and more ravenous than he would have been in the morning. This furious creature may promise a picture of our doubts and fears after a day of distraction of mind, losses in business, and perhaps ungenerous tauntings from our fellowmen.

How our thoughts howl in our ears: “Where is your God now?” How voracious and greedy they are, swallowing up all suggestions of comfort and remaining as hungry as ever. Great Shepherd, slay these evening wolves, and bid Your sheep lie down in green pastures, undisturbed by unbelief. The fiends of hell seen just like evening wolves, for when the flock of Christ are in a cloudy and dark day, and their sun seems to be going down, they arrive to tear and to devour. They will scarcely attack the Christian in the daylight of faith, but in the gloomy night of the soul they fall upon him. O Lord who laid down Your life for the sheep, preserve them from the fangs of the wolf.

False teachers who craftily and industriously hunt for precious life, devouring men by their falsehoods, are as dangerous and detestable as evening wolves. Darkness is their element; deceit is their character; destruction is their end. They pose the greatest threat to our safety when they wear the sheep’s skin. Blessed is he who is kept from them, for thousands become the prey of grievous wolves that enter within the fold of the church.

What a wonder of grace it is when fierce persecutors are converted, for then the wolf lives with the lamb, and men of cruel, ungovernable dispositions become gentle and teachable. O Lord, convert many like this: For this we will pray tonight.

Family Reading Plan Ezekiel 13  Psalm 52