1 Corinthians 3:10-15

Scripture is very clear about the fact that wonderful benefits await believers who obey and bring glory to God. In Psalm 19, David wrote that there is great reward in keeping the Lord’s precepts (v. 11). What’s more, the promise of heavenly gifts comes straight from Jesus’ mouth in the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5:12).

Reread today’s passage, and notice Paul’s assertion that he and Apollos would each receive rewards for their service to the Corinthians (v. 8). God neither offers group prizes nor reserves treasure only for those “in ministry.” We are all ministers of the gospel, whose good works store up heavenly treasure. God sees our Spirit-led decisions and actions as worthy of reward. You may not feel particularly important or essential in this big world, but your every action and word matter to God. What He values is the believer yielding to the Holy Spirit’s direction.

The motivation behind our actions is important too–sometimes good works are done for the wrong reasons. For example, Jesus revealed that the Pharisees were fasting, not to please God but to gain attention (Matt. 6:16). When a person seeks the applause of men, their adulation is his sole reward. While that may feel good for a while, flattery is not eternal.

I suspect we’ll all shed tears of regret over the righteous acts we neglected or the work we did for personal glory. We will realize how much more we could have done for the Lord. But then He will dry our tears and grant our eternal reward. That will be an awesome moment.

 In an essay titled “Meditation in a Toolshed,” C.S. Lewis describes a scene from within a darkened shed. The sun was brilliantly shining outside, yet from the inside only a small sunbeam could be seen through a crack at the top of the door. Everything was pitch-black except for the prominent beam of light, by which he could see flecks of dust floating about.  Writes Lewis:

 “I was seeing the beam, not seeing things by it. Then I moved, so that the beam fell on my eyes.  Instantly the whole previous picture vanished. I saw no toolshed, and (above all) no beam. Instead I saw, framed in the irregular cranny at the top of the door, green leaves moving in the branches of a tree outside and beyond that, 90 odd million miles away, the sun. Looking along the beam, and looking at the beam are very different experiences.”(1) 

 Each time I come to the gospel accounts of the woman with the alabaster jar, I notice something similar. “Do you see this woman?” Jesus asks, as if he is speaking as much to me as the guests around the table. With a jar of costly perfume, she had anointed the feet of Christ with fragrance and tears. She then endured the criticism of those around her because she alone saw the one in front of them. While the dinner crowd was sitting in the dark about Jesus, the woman was peering in the light of understanding. What she saw invoked tears of recognition, sacrifice, and much love. Gazing along the beam and at the beam are quite different ways of seeing. 

 The late seventeenth century poet George Herbert once described prayer as “the soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage.” At those words I picture the woman with her broken alabaster jar, wiping the dusty, fragrant feet of Christ with her hair. Pouring out the expensive nard, she seemed to pour out her soul. Fittingly, Herbert concludes his grand description of prayer as “something understood.” 

The woman with the alabaster jar not only saw the Christ when others did not, Christ saw her when others could not see past her reputation. “Do you see this woman?” Jesus asked while the others were questioning her actions past and present. “I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—for she loved much.”(2) Her soul’s cry was heard; she herself was understood. 

 There are many ways of looking at Jesus: good man, historical character, interesting teacher, one who sees, one who hears, one who loves. At any point, we could easily walk away feeling like we have seen everything we need to see. When in fact, we may have seen very little. The risk of looking again may well change everything.

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

 (1) C.S. Lewis, God in the Dock (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1970), 212-215.
(2) Luke 7:44-47.

Morning “There were also with him other little ships.” / Mark 4:36

Jesus was the Lord High Admiral of the sea that night, and his presence
preserved the whole convoy. It is well to sail with Jesus, even though it be
in a little ship. When we sail in Christ’s company, we may not make sure of
fair weather, for great storms may toss the vessel which carries the Lord
himself, and we must not expect to find the sea less boisterous around our
little boat. If we go with Jesus we must be content to fare as he fares; and
when the waves are rough to him, they will be rough to us. It is by tempest
and tossing that we shall come to land, as he did before us.

When the storm swept over Galilee’s dark lake all faces gathered blackness,
and all hearts dreaded shipwreck. When all creature help was useless, the
slumbering Saviour arose, and with a word, transformed the riot of the tempest
into the deep quiet of a calm; then were the little vessels at rest as well as
that which carried the Lord. Jesus is the star of the sea; and though there be
sorrow upon the sea, when Jesus is on it there is joy too. May our hearts make
Jesus their anchor, their rudder, their lighthouse, their life-boat, and their
harbour. His Church is the Admiral’s flagship, let us attend her movements,
and cheer her officers with our presence. He himself is the great attraction;
let us follow ever in his wake, mark his signals, steer by his chart, and
never fear while he is within hail. Not one ship in the convoy shall suffer
wreck; the great Commodore will steer every barque in safety to the desired
haven. By faith we will slip our cable for another day’s cruise, and sail
forth with Jesus into a sea of tribulation. Winds and waves will not spare us,
but they all obey him; and, therefore, whatever squalls may occur without,
faith shall feel a blessed calm within. He is ever in the centre of the
weather-beaten company: let us rejoice in him. His vessel has reached the
haven, and so shall ours.

Evening   “I acknowledged my sin unto thee, and mine iniquity have I not hid. I said, I
will confess my transgressions unto the Lord; and thou forgavest the iniquity
of my sin.” / Psalm 32:5

David’s grief for sin was bitter. Its effects were visible upon his outward
frame: “his bones waxed old”; “his moisture was turned into the drought of
summer.” No remedy could he find, until he made a full confession before the
throne of the heavenly grace. He tells us that for a time he kept silence, and
his heart became more and more filled with grief: like a mountain tarn whose
outlet is blocked up, his soul was swollen with torrents of sorrow. He
fashioned excuses; he endeavoured to divert his thoughts, but it was all to no
purpose; like a festering sore his anguish gathered, and as he would not use
the lancet of confession, his spirit was full of torment, and knew no rest. At
last it came to this, that he must return unto his God in humble penitence, or
die outright; so he hastened to the mercy-seat, and there unrolled the volume
of his iniquities before the all-seeing One, acknowledging all the evil of his
ways in language such as you read in the fifty-first and other penitential
Psalms. Having done this, a work so simple and yet so difficult to pride, he
received at once the token of divine forgiveness; the bones which had been
broken were made to rejoice, and he came forth from his closet to sing the
blessedness of the man whose transgression is forgiven. See the value of a
grace-wrought confession of sin! It is to be prized above all price, for in
every case where there is a genuine, gracious confession, mercy is freely
given, not because the repentance and confession deserve mercy, but for
Christ’s sake. Blessed be God, there is always healing for the broken heart;
the fountain is ever flowing to cleanse us from our sins. Truly, O Lord, thou
art a God “ready to pardon!” Therefore will we acknowledge our iniquities.

I acknowledged my sin unto you, and I did not cover my iniquity; I said, ‘I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,’ and you forgave the iniquity of my sin.   Psalm 32:5

David’s grief for sin was bitter. Its effects were visible on his outward frame: His bones wasted away; his strength dried up like the drought of summer. He was unable to find a remedy until he made a full confession before the throne of heavenly grace. He tells us that for a time he kept silent, and his heart was filled with grief and his lips with groaning: Like a mountain stream that is blocked, his soul was swollen with torrents of sorrow. He created excuses, he tried to divert his thoughts, but it was all to no purpose; like a festering sore his anguish gathered, and, unwilling to use the scalpel of confession, his spirit was tormented and knew no peace.

At last it came to this, that he must return to God in humble penitence or die outright; so he hurried to the mercy-seat and there unrolled the volume of his iniquities before the all-seeing God, acknowledging all the evil of his ways in the terms of the Fifty-first and other penitential Psalms. Having confessed, a task so simple and yet so hard for the proud, he immediately received the token of divine forgiveness; the bones that had been wasted were made to rejoice, and he emerged from his prayers to sing the joyful songs of the one whose transgression is forgiven.

Do you see the value of this grace-led confession of sin? It is to be prized above everything, for in every case where there is a genuine, gracious confession, mercy is freely given—not because the repentance and confession deserve mercy, but for Christ’s sake. May God be praised, there is always healing for the broken heart; the fountain is ever flowing to cleanse us from our sins. Truly, O Lord, You are a God “ready to forgive.”1 Therefore will we humbly acknowledge our iniquities.

1Nehemiah 9:17

Family Reading Plan Ezekiel 17  Psalm 61