Revelation 4:9-11

Throughout Scripture, we find references to “crowns.” Let’s take a look at these eternal rewards for a victorious Christian life and a strong relationship with Jesus Christ.

The Crown of Victory. To finish life well, believers need Olympic endurance. Athletes in those ancient games received a perishable circlet of laurel leaves. But when we are effective in our God-given ministry and triumph over sin, we’ll be given an imperishable crown (1 Cor. 9:25-27).

The Crown of Exultation. The believers that we had a hand in bringing to Christ will be “our glory and joy” before the Lord (1 Thess. 2:18-20). Just imagine how you will rejoice in heaven upon seeing and talking with the people who recognize your contribution to their spiritual development.

The Crown of Righteousness. The Christian life is not easy, but there is great reward for living righteously when facing temptation or hardship. Believers who pursue godliness are always thinking about the life to come and striving to meet God with a pure conscience (2 Tim. 4:5-8).

The Crown of Life. Heartache and pain are unavoidable in this life, but we can take heart because much spiritual growth happens in adversity. Hang in there to receive the crown of life that the Lord promised to those who love Him (James 1:12).

In heaven, what will we do with the crowns we have earned? We will cast them before Jesus’ feet (Rev. 4:10), laying them down as a tribute to the One who saved us, gifted us, equipped us, and lived in us. Everything good and right came to us through the Lord, so He deserves our crowns.

Over a period of several weeks of precious elementary school recesses, my circle of fellow fourth-grade friends set aside dodge-ball matches and swing-sets in order to go to court. There had been a rather serious disagreement between two of the girls in our larger group of friends and sides were being drawn as quickly as notes could be passed between desks. Before things got any worse, the humanitarian among us reasoned that we had to intervene. It was decided that we would create a makeshift courtroom to get to the bottom of the mess. One of my friends was appointed judge; others were chosen to be witnesses or note-takers, prosecutor, defendant, or bailiff. I don’t think we thought any of it was half as silly as it sounds now. In our minds we were doing what adults did to get at the truth. In the end, however, it became one of those defining moments where one wakes from the innocence of childhood to find the world not as simple as first thought and the human heart capable of horrific things. The experience is strangely reminiscent of William Golding’s stranded children in The Lord of the Flies.

In our courtroom I was called to be a witness. I was to tell the judge what I saw and what I knew to be true. I did so, and it felt like we were getting somewhere. But then another witness was called who insisted that she saw something completely different, and that I, in fact, was lying. I was heartbroken and confused. Sides were drawn, cases sharpened. As the days went by we became increasingly frustrated and vindictive. What we thought would be a simple solution that would lead us to truth and resolution became a hurtful, tangled mess of motive and slander and manipulation—so much so, that a teacher intervened and our courtroom was forever adjourned. Among other things, I decided I could not go into law.

I was reminded of this childish scene recently while reading the eyewitness Mark’s account of the trial of Christ before the council of religious leaders. Seized from the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus was taken to the courtyard. Peter followed from a distance and watched among the guards as the trial unraveled. Mark imparts, “The chief priests and the whole Sanhedrin were looking for evidence against Jesus so that they could put him to death, but they did not find any. Many testified falsely against him, but their statements did not agree. Then some stood up and gave this false testimony against him: We heard him say, ‘I will destroy this man-made temple and in three days will build another, not made by man.’ Yet even then their testimony did not agree.”(1)

What kind of a courtroom would this make? The expert witnesses from the same side are contradicting each other. The only thing they seem to agree on is that Jesus should be on trial. And yet, like a prosecuting attorney with an airtight case, the high priest exclaims: “Answer these charges!” In the middle of the chaos of conflicting words and motives, the high priest stood up and faced Jesus: “Have you no answer to make? What is it that these men testify against you?” Jesus was kind for not replying: “If you don’t even know, why should I have to make sense of all of that?” But Jesus remained silent and made no answer.

In the midst of courtrooms such as these, it seems appropriate to pause in that silence. For though accusing crowds put him to death more than two thousand years ago, he has been on trial ever since. Like the court scene I was a part of as a child, we continue to place him before our makeshift gavels and make a mockery of truth and testimony. I know many moments when armed with fiery questions I have forced God to take the stand. My words likely made as little sense as Jesus’s accusers that day.

But the culminating events of Jesus’s life on earth depict a very surprising turn of judge and jury. From the waving of palm branches to waving fists demanding crucifixion, our trials of God are fickle. But what if we discover, as did many within these crowds, that it is we who live our lives before the courts? Like Peter, we might follow Jesus at a distance, looking in on a great trial, sometimes participating, sometimes denying him, sometimes seeing our role and with a shock of recognition, falling on our knees, and finding ourselves in a court reversed: the Judge before us, and our advocate—the one we’ve accused—entering our plea. Might it be in such a position that we make our verdict.

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

(1) Mark 14:55-59.

Morning   “Bring him unto me.” / Mark 9:19

Despairingly the poor disappointed father turned away from the disciples to

their Master. His son was in the worst possible condition, and all means had

failed, but the miserable child was soon delivered from the evil one when the

parent in faith obeyed the Lord Jesus’ word, “Bring him unto me.” Children are

a precious gift from God, but much anxiety comes with them. They may be a

great joy or a great bitterness to their parents; they may be filled with the

Spirit of God, or possessed with the spirit of evil. In all cases, the Word of

God gives us one receipt for the curing of all their ills, “Bring him unto

me.” O for more agonizing prayer on their behalf while they are yet babes! Sin

is there, let our prayers begin to attack it. Our cries for our offspring

should precede those cries which betoken their actual advent into a world of

sin. In the days of their youth we shall see sad tokens of that dumb and deaf

spirit which will neither pray aright, nor hear the voice of God in the soul,

but Jesus still commands, “Bring them unto me.” When they are grown up they

may wallow in sin and foam with enmity against God; then when our hearts are

breaking we should remember the great Physician’s words, “Bring them unto me.”

Never must we cease to pray until they cease to breathe. No case is hopeless

while Jesus lives.

 

The Lord sometimes suffers his people to be driven into a corner that they may

experimentally know how necessary he is to them. Ungodly children, when they

show us our own powerlessness against the depravity of their hearts, drive us

to flee to the strong for strength, and this is a great blessing to us.

Whatever our morning’s need may be, let it like a strong current bear us to

the ocean of divine love. Jesus can soon remove our sorrow, he delights to

comfort us. Let us hasten to him while he waits to meet us.

 

Evening   “Encourage him.” / Deuteronomy 1:38

God employs his people to encourage one another. He did not say to an angel,

“Gabriel, my servant Joshua is about to lead my people into Canaan–go,

encourage him.” God never works needless miracles; if his purposes can be

accomplished by ordinary means, he will not use miraculous agency. Gabriel

would not have been half so well fitted for the work as Moses. A brother’s

sympathy is more precious than an angel’s embassy. The angel, swift of wing,

had better known the Master’s bidding than the people’s temper. An angel had

never experienced the hardness of the road, nor seen the fiery serpents, nor

had he led the stiff-necked multitude in the wilderness as Moses had done. We

should be glad that God usually works for man by man. It forms a bond of

brotherhood, and being mutually dependent on one another, we are fused more

completely into one family. Brethren, take the text as God’s message to you.

Labour to help others, and especially strive to encourage them. Talk cheerily

to the young and anxious enquirer, lovingly try to remove stumblingblocks out

of his way. When you find a spark of grace in the heart, kneel down and blow

it into a flame. Leave the young believer to discover the roughness of the

road by degrees, but tell him of the strength which dwells in God, of the

sureness of the promise, and of the charms of communion with Christ. Aim to

comfort the sorrowful, and to animate the desponding. Speak a word in season

to him that is weary, and encourage those who are fearful to go on their way

with gladness. God encourages you by his promises; Christ encourages you as he

points to the heaven he has won for you, and the spirit encourages you as he

works in you to will and to do of his own will and pleasure. Imitate divine

wisdom, and encourage others, according to the word of this evening.

Encourage him.   Deuteronomy 1:38

God employs His people to encourage one another. He did not say to an angel, “Gabriel, My servant Joshua is about to lead My people into Canaan—go, encourage him.” God never performs unnecessary miracles. If His purposes can be accomplished by ordinary means, He will not use miraculous agencies. Gabriel would not have been half so well fitted for the work as Moses. A brother’s sympathy is more precious than an angel’s prestige. The swift-winged angel knew more about the Master’s desires than he did about the people’s needs. An angel had never experienced the difficult journey, nor faced the fiery serpents, nor had he led the stiff-necked multitude in the wilderness as Moses had done. We should be glad that God usually works for man by man. This forms a bond of brotherhood, and being mutually dependent on one another, we are united more completely into one family.

Brethren, take the text as God’s message to you. Work at helping others, and especially strive to encourage them. Talk warmly to the young and anxious inquirer; lovingly try to remove stumbling blocks out of his way. When you find a spark of grace in the heart, kneel down and blow it into a flame. Leave the young believer to discover the roughness of the road by stages, but tell him of the strength that is found in God, of the certainty of the promise, and of the benefits of communion with Christ.

Aim to comfort the sorrowful and to encourage the despondent. Speak a fitting word to the weary, and lift the spirits of those who are fearful to go on their way with gladness. God encourages you by His promises; Christ encourages you as He points to the heaven He has won for you; and the Spirit encourages you as He works in you to will and to do of His own purpose and pleasure. Imitate divine wisdom, and encourage others according to the Word this evening.

Family Reading Plan  Ezekiel 20  Psalm 67