2 Corinthians 7:8-10

Because we desire to be more like Jesus, we make resolutions, ask Him to help us, and try to behave differently. Yet despite our best efforts to do things God’s way, we slide back into old habits. Frustrated, we may ask Him, “Why can’t I change?” The reason is, overcoming sinful attitudes and behaviors starts with genuine repentance, which has three aspects.

Conviction. The Holy Spirit will reveal the areas in which we’ve sinned and convict us of wrongdoing. Through Scripture, the Spirit shows us God’s standard and what needs to change. Repentance begins with understanding where we have gone astray.

Contrition. The next step–grieving over our iniquity–is followed by confession to the Lord. Genuine sorrow arises from the knowledge that we’ve sinned against Him. In contrast, human unhappiness often comes from being caught misbehaving. Other times we are miserable because of where our choices led us, or feel shame that people know about our sin. True contrition is followed by humble confession.

Commitment to act. Real repentance is complete when we wholeheartedly pledge to turn from our old behavior and move toward righteous ways. God knows we won’t live perfectly, but He looks for a surrendered heart that diligently seeks to obey Him.

Paul used strong language when telling us to turn from iniquity: “Put to death… whatever belongs to your earthly nature” (Col. 3:5 niv). What sin are you struggling to overcome? Have you genuinely repented, committing to turn from it permanently? Let the Holy Spirit empower you to change.

French philosopher Michel de Montaigne once said, “There are triumphant defeats that rival victories.” His words fit awkwardly into the battles that fill our days with sweat or worry. Whether battling anxiousness or bidding in an auction, defeat is far from our goal. It is a word that, presumably for most of us, carries with it tender recollections of loss and disappointment. Past defeats always with us, even the smallest of victories can offer a hopeful sweetness. And perhaps this is so, at least at first, even in those victories of which we should not be proud.

With his mother on his side, Jacob won the battle of wits over his brother and father. Posing as Esau before his blind and aging father, equipped with animal skin and stew, Jacob convinced his father of his status as the first born and lawful heir of the blessing. Shortly thereafter, a defeated Esau returned to find his younger brother promised all that was rightfully his own. Jacob won the battle, but then he was forced to live on the run.

The battles we win at the expense of honesty or at the expense of others have a way of staying with us. Years after the fight for firstborn, Jacob seemed to still be living in fear of that victorious scheme and the brother he defeated with lies. When word came that Esau (and the 400 men with him) were quickly approaching, Jacob suddenly stood at an impasse with no where else to run. Genesis 32 reports that in the silence of the night before Jacob would face the brother he cheated, he found himself in a battle once more: “So Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him till daybreak” (32:24).

Along the road to surrendering to God, for some of us a battle is unavoidable. In fact, there may be some truth in the notion that surrender is a fight that begins again every day as if nothing had yet been done. For Jacob, the battle over his life and will took place in that moment when he found himself completely alone. With no one else to come to his aid, no possessions to bribe or barter with, stripped of all his usual tools of combat, Jacob wrestled with his attacker and only to find he was wrestling with God—and losing.

Physically broken, the socket of his hip now dislocated, Jacob nonetheless continued in a battle with words: “I will not let you go unless you bless me,” he told his assailant. Yet this time it was Jacob who was outwitted. “What is your name?” asked the one he wrestled with, a question hastening back to the very lie that sealed Jacob’s deceptive victories of the past. This time, he answered correctly, and though limping, Jacob walked away blessed.

In the presence of the one who can move the mountains of shortfall and estrangement, we have reason to surrender as often as it is necessary. For we surrender to a fortress far mightier than our best days of battle. In the words of a fellow wrestler:

Did we in our own strength confide,

our striving would be losing;

Were not the right Man on our side,

the Man of God’s own choosing:

Dost ask who that may be?

Christ Jesus, it is He;

Lord Sabaoth, His Name,

from age to age the same,

And He must win the battle.

However often God must win, it is our most difficult but always most triumphant loss. For in this great surrendering we find, as Fredrick Buechner says, “the magnificent defeat of the human soul at the hands of God.”

Carrying the scars of a fresh wound, the humbled Jacob limped toward the brother he betrayed, on his way to becoming the father of a great nation. We, too, can be humbled by the God who refuses to leave despite the words we shout in protest and despite our constant refusal to surrender. We can be awed by the one who says, “Follow me!” and expects us to trust that he will neither leave us nor forsake us. And we can marvel at the God who, carrying in his own body the scars of defeat, invites us to the very nearness that is our victory.

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

 

Morning “But who may abide the day of his coming?” / Malachi 3:2

 His first coming was without external pomp or show of power, and yet in truth

there were few who could abide its testing might. Herod and all Jerusalem with

him were stirred at the news of the wondrous birth. Those who supposed

themselves to be waiting for him, showed the fallacy of their professions by

rejecting him when he came. His life on earth was a winnowing fan, which tried

the great heap of religious profession, and few enough could abide the

process. But what will his second advent be? What sinner can endure to think

of it? “He shall smite the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the

breath of his lips shall he slay the wicked.” When in his humiliation he did

but say to the soldiers, “I am he,” they fell backward; what will be the

terror of his enemies when he shall more fully reveal himself as the “I am?”

His death shook earth and darkened heaven, what shall be the dreadful

splendour of that day in which as the living Saviour, he shall summon the

quick and dead before him? O that the terrors of the Lord would persuade men

to forsake their sins and kiss the Son lest he be angry! Though a lamb, he is

yet the lion of the tribe of Judah, rending the prey in pieces; and though he

breaks not the bruised reed, yet will he break his enemies with a rod of iron,

and dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel. None of his foes shall bear up

before the tempest of his wrath, or hide themselves from the sweeping hail of

his indignation; but his beloved blood washed people look for his appearing

with joy, and hope to abide it without fear: to them he sits as a refiner even

now, and when he has tried them they shall come forth as gold. Let us search

ourselves this morning and make our calling and election sure, so that the

coming of the Lord may cause no dark forebodings in our mind. O for grace to

cast away all hypocrisy, and to be found of him sincere and without rebuke in

the day of his appearing.

 

Evening “But the firstling of an ass thou shalt redeem with a lamb: and if thou redeem

him not, then shalt thou break his neck.” / Exodus 34:20

 Every firstborn creature must be the Lord’s, but since the ass was unclean, it

could not be presented in sacrifice. What then? Should it be allowed to go

free from the universal law? By no means. God admits of no exceptions. The ass

is his due, but he will not accept it; he will not abate the claim, but yet he

cannot be pleased with the victim. No way of escape remained but

redemption–the creature must be saved by the substitution of a lamb in its

place; or if not redeemed, it must die. My soul, here is a lesson for thee.

That unclean animal is thyself; thou art justly the property of the Lord who

made thee and preserves thee, but thou art so sinful that God will not,

cannot, accept thee; and it has come to this, the Lamb of God must stand in

thy stead, or thou must die eternally. Let all the world know of thy gratitude

to that spotless Lamb who has already bled for thee, and so redeemed thee from

the fatal curse of the law. Must it not sometimes have been a question with

the Israelite which should die, the ass or the lamb? Would not the good man

pause to estimate and compare? Assuredly there was no comparison between the

value of the soul of man and the life of the Lord Jesus, and yet the Lamb

dies, and man the ass is spared. My soul, admire the boundless love of God to

thee and others of the human race. Worms are bought with the blood of the Son

of the Highest! Dust and ashes redeemed with a price far above silver and

gold! What a doom had been mine had not plenteous redemption been found! The

breaking of the neck of the ass was but a momentary penalty, but who shall

measure the wrath to come to which no limit can be imagined? Inestimably dear

is the glorious Lamb who has redeemed us from such a doom.

The firstborn of a donkey you shall redeem with a lamb, or if you will not redeem it you shall break its neck.  Exodus 34:20

Every firstborn creature must be the Lord’s; but since the donkey was unclean, it could not be presented in sacrifice. What then? Should it be allowed to go free from the universal law? By no means. God allows for no exceptions. The donkey is His due, but He will not accept it; He will not void the claim, but yet He cannot be pleased with the victim. As a result, no way of escape remained but redemption—the creature must be saved by the substitution of a lamb in its place; or if not redeemed, it must die.

My soul, here is a lesson for you. That unclean animal is you. You are justly the property of the Lord who made you and preserves you, but you are so sinful that God will not, cannot, accept you; and it has come to this—the Lamb of God must stand in your place or you must die eternally. Let all the world know of your gratitude to that spotless Lamb who has already bled for you and so redeemed you from the fatal curse of the law. Sometimes it must have been a question for the Israelite which should die: the donkey or the lamb. Surely a good man would pause to estimate and compare.

Without question there was no comparison between the value of the soul of man and the life of the Lord Jesus, and yet the Lamb dies, and man the donkey is spared. My soul, adore the boundless love of God to you and others of the human race. Worms are purchased with the blood of the Son of the Highest! Dust and ashes are redeemed with a price far above silver and gold! What a doom was mine if plentiful redemption had not been found! The breaking of the neck of the donkey was but a momentary penalty, but who will measure the wrath to come to which no limit can be imagined? Inestimably dear is the glorious Lamb who has redeemed us from such a doom.

Family Reading Plan   Ezekiel 48  Psalm 104