John 1:35-42

Andrew is the disciple known for bringing people to Jesus. Immediately after meeting the Lord, he introduced his brother Simon to the Messiah. Another time, when a great multitude was hungry, he found a boy with five loaves and two fishes and brought him to Jesus (John 6:8-9). When some Greeks wanted to meet Christ, Andrew and Philip made the introductions (12:20-22). This disciple never lost his enthusiasm for the Savior.

Andrew’s own conversion experience motivated him to let others know about the One who’d changed his life (1:36-37). How about you–have you lost the joy of your salvation? If your Christian life has become stale and musty, it’s time to remember what Christ has done for you and to ask that He restore your excitement.

In addition, Andrew longed to know the Savior and spend time with Him (vv. 38-39). The disciple’s example is a good reminder that sweet fellowship with the Lord isn’t supposed to end with devotional times. It should also stimulate a desire to share with others the joy we find in our relationship with Christ.

Finally, Andrew was motivated by his conviction that Jesus was the Messiah (v. 41). He’d found the answer for a lost and hurting world and wanted others to know.

When Andrew answered the call to discipleship, Jesus told him he’d be “catching men” instead of fish (Luke 5:10). Since we, too, are followers of Christ, we have this same assignment. Our styles and opportunities vary, but we’re each responsible to develop a lifelong habit of bringing others to Jesus.

Every culture or era has its own way of defining issues that invoke shame and guilt. These are connected, but different. Guilt is a feeling associated with things done or not done. Shame has a much deeper and wider impact. It is, in a sense, a deep embarrassment about who we are. It is an almost visceral contempt for some act or behavior that leaves you feeling disgust, contempt, or humiliation…at yourself.

 In 2 Timothy 1:8, the Apostle Paul tells the young Timothy, not to be ashamed of the testimony of Jesus. The apostle understood the pressure against telling others about Jesus, the cultural dynamics that militate against boldness, and the real dangers and threats from militant traditional Jewish audiences or hostile Roman Imperial authorities. The dangers were many, and as we know from the history of the early church, they were real.

 One danger, however, that I’m fairly sure they did not face was the pressure to be “nice.” What do I mean? In our time, we have lived through the expansion of the market, the explosion of media influence, and what Philip Rieff of Chicago University calls “the triumph of the therapeutic.” We are immersed in values and visions of the good life, which we inculcate with almost every breath that we breathe. It is a cultural moment where looking good and feeling good are paramount, and anything that threatens, disturbs, or challenges the cultural value-setters is ruled out of court.

 I am not suggesting that following these values is a conscious choice for many, but I would propose it is the default setting of most lives in our comfort-driven, convenience-laden moment. Our internal radar system is fixed on the maximization of pleasure and the minimization of pain. We simply “know” that certain things, difficult things, and yes, even some good things, are just too much to ask in our context.

 For instance, “Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel…” Well, maybe for some people. “Be prepared to give an answer for the hope that is in you…”  But they may think I’m a fanatic, or worse, some kind of religious nut. Anyway, the doors of the church are open and we have a special speaker on Sunday. They can come if they want to (or not). I can’t jeopardize my status, my peace, my equilibrium, and thereby risk becoming not “nice.”

 I must confess it is hard for me to envision the apostle Paul worrying excessively about not being “nice.” It is equally difficult if I consider others who risked reputation or safety to speak of the God they found. They were not rude, belligerent, ugly, or unnecessarily aggressive. They were clear, confident, compassionate, and courageous. At stake were some key issues for all of the above, the importance of truth, and the necessity of obedience. The Christian story is not advice, a set of ideas, or a moral exhortation for those who happen to like such things.

 Perhaps you’ve never reflected on whether your sincere desire to be “nice” undermines any expression of belief or disbelief. If you are effectively stopped by an internal dialogue that insists the need to be nice trumps all other goods or needs, perhaps it is time to seek afresh, resist that voice, break the hold of bad ideas, and step out in faith and obedience and do or say what is needed.

 There are worse things in life, after all, than not being nice! Perhaps being without Jesus is one of them?

Stuart McAllister is vice president of training and special projects at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.

Morning “Happy art thou, O Israel; who is like unto thee, O people saved by the Lord!”
/ Deuteronomy 33:29

He who affirms that Christianity makes men miserable, is himself an utter
stranger to it. It were strange indeed, if it made us wretched, for see to
what a position it exalts us! It makes us sons of God. Suppose you that God
will give all the happiness to his enemies, and reserve all the mourning for
his own family? Shall his foes have mirth and joy, and shall his home-born
children inherit sorrow and wretchedness? Shall the sinner, who has no part in
Christ, call himself rich in happiness, and shall we go mourning as if we were
penniless beggars? No, we will rejoice in the Lord always, and glory in our
inheritance, for we “have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear;
but we have received the spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father.”
The rod of chastisement must rest upon us in our measure, but it worketh for
us the comfortable fruits of righteousness; and therefore by the aid of the
divine Comforter, we, the “people saved of the Lord,” will joy in the God of
our salvation. We are married unto Christ; and shall our great Bridegroom
permit his spouse to linger in constant grief? Our hearts are knit unto him:
we are his members, and though for awhile we may suffer as our Head once
suffered, yet we are even now blessed with heavenly blessings in him. We have
the earnest of our inheritance in the comforts of the Spirit, which are
neither few nor small. Inheritors of joy forever, we have foretastes of our
portion. There are streaks of the light of joy to herald our eternal
sunrising. Our riches are beyond the sea; our city with firm foundations lies
on the other side the river; gleams of glory from the spirit-world cheer our
hearts, and urge us onward. Truly is it said of us, “Happy art thou, O Israel;
who is like unto thee, O people saved by the Lord?”

Evening  “My Beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, and my bowels were moved for him.” / Song of Solomon 5:4

Knocking was not enough, for my heart was too full of sleep, too cold and
ungrateful to arise and open the door, but the touch of his effectual grace
has made my soul bestir itself. Oh, the longsuffering of my Beloved, to tarry
when he found himself shut out, and me asleep upon the bed of sloth! Oh, the
greatness of his patience, to knock and knock again, and to add his voice to
his knockings, beseeching me to open to him! How could I have refused him!
Base heart, blush and be confounded! But what greatest kindness of all is
this, that he becomes his own porter and unbars the door himself. Thrice
blessed is the hand which condescends to lift the latch and turn the key. Now
I see that nothing but my Lord’s own power can save such a naughty mass of
wickedness as I am; ordinances fail, even the gospel has no effect upon me,
till his hand is stretched out. Now, also, I perceive that his hand is good
where all else is unsuccessful, he can open when nothing else will. Blessed be
his name, I feel his gracious presence even now. Well may my bowels move for
him, when I think of all that he has suffered for me, and of my ungenerous
return. I have allowed my affections to wander. I have set up rivals. I have
grieved him. Sweetest and dearest of all beloveds, I have treated thee as an
unfaithful wife treats her husband. Oh, my cruel sins, my cruel self. What can
I do? Tears are a poor show of my repentance, my whole heart boils with
indignation at myself. Wretch that I am, to treat my Lord, my All in All, my
exceeding great joy, as though he were a stranger. Jesus, thou forgivest
freely, but this is not enough, prevent my unfaithfulness in the future. Kiss
away these tears, and then purge my heart and bind it with sevenfold cords to
thyself, never to wander more.

My beloved put his hand to the latch, and my heart was thrilled within me.    Song of Songs 5:4

 Knocking was not enough, for my heart was too full of sleep, too cold and ungrateful to rise and open the door; but the touch of His effectual grace has caused my soul to stir. How patient of my Beloved to wait when He found Himself shut out, and me asleep upon the bed of indolence! How great His patience to knock and knock again, and to add His voice to His knockings, beseeching me to open to Him! How could I have refused Him! My heart is base; I blush and without excuse!

But the greatest kindness of all is this, that He becomes His own porter and unlocks the door Himself. Blessed is the hand that condescends to lift the latch and turn the key. Now I see that nothing but my Lord’s own power can save such a naughty mass of wickedness as I am; ordinances fail, and even the Gospel has no effect upon me, until His hand is stretched out. I also see that His hand is good where everything else is unsuccessful; He can open when nothing else will. Blessed be His name, I feel His gracious presence even now. Well may my heart be thrilled within me when I think of all that He has suffered for me and of my ungenerous response.

I have allowed my affections to wander. I have tolerated rivals. I have grieved Him. Sweetest and dearest of all lovers, I have treated You as an unfaithful wife treats her husband. Oh, my cruel sins, my cruel self. What can I do? Tears are a poor evidence of my repentance; my whole heart palpitates with indignation at myself. I am wretched to treat my Lord, my All in All, my exceeding great joy, as though He were a stranger. Jesus, You freely forgive, but this is not enough; prevent my unfaithfulness in the future. Kiss away these tears, and then purge my heart and bind it with sevenfold cords to Yourself, so that I may never wander from You again.

Family Reading Plan   Ezekiel 30   Psalm 78