Daily Archives: December 31, 2012

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Getting to Know Christ Intimately – Charles Stanley

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Philippians 3:12-21

No matter where you are in your walk with Christ, it’s never too late to begin pursuing a deeper relationship with Him. Whether you’re already passionate about Jesus or know Him only on a surface level, everyone is welcome to join Paul and “press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 3:14). To get started, follow these six steps:

Study Scripture. No one can know God apart from His Word since He speaks to us through it, revealing who He is and what He does.

Be willing to spend time alone with the Lord in prayer, meditation, and worship. One of the biggest reasons Christians don’t have a close relationship with Jesus is that they’re unwilling to invest the time needed to get to know Him intimately.

Trust the Lord. The depth of any relationship depends on the level of trust.

Obey Him. As we take each step of obedience, God reveals more of Himself.

Observe how Christ works in your life. By paying attention to how the Lord operates, you’ll become familiar with His ways and goals.

Make Jesus your top priority. Be willing to lay aside anything that competes with your loyalty and devotion to Him.

Knowing Christ intimately is an attainable goal. The key is persistence, so forget past failures and press on. Find an example to follow. My grandfather’s relationship with Jesus was the inspiration for my journey of intimacy with Christ. I knew if he had that kind of relationship with Jesus, so could I.

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Into the World as We Know It – Ravi Zacharias

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Garrison Keillor’s description of Aunt Marie is one I have not been able to shake this season. Repeatedly, she has come to mind in discordant moments of Christmas preparation, somewhere between errands at the mall and lyrics that put a stop to them. “Long lay the world in sin and error pining,/ Till he appeared, and the soul felt its worth.” No description of the Incarnation more readily makes the common stressors of Christmas seem less important. And yet, Aunt Marie, with her “fat little legs” and “her heavy, fur-collared coat,” has made a serious attempt to wrestle me back down to a sad, human, earthly reality. Keillor writes:

“She knew that death was only a door to the kingdom where Jesus would welcome her, there would be no crying there, no suffering, but meanwhile she was fat, her heart hurt, and she lived alone with her ill-tempered little dogs, tottering around her dark little house full of Chinese figurines and old Sunday Tribunes. She complained about nobody loving her or wanting her or inviting her to their house for dinner anymore. She sat eating pork roast, mashed potato, creamed asparagus, one Sunday at our house when she said it. We were talking about a trip to the North Shore and suddenly she broke into tears and cried, ‘You don’t care about me. You say you do but you don’t. If I died tomorrow, I don’t know as you’d even go to my funeral.’ I was six. I said, cheerfully, ‘I’d come to your funeral,’ looking at my fat aunt, her blue dress, her string of pearls, her red rouge, the powder on her nose, her mouth full of pork roast, her eyes full of tears.”(1)

Christmas has reminded us what many of us already know: that the world is waiting, groaning for more, longing for redemption, for peace on earth and goodwill to humanity, for release from darkness and sin and loneliness and disillusionment, for God to come near to the world as we know it. Like Aunt Marie, this waiting is sometimes fraught with discomfort; we wait, and we sense a lonely, earthly reality. But Advent forces the experience of waiting into a different light. Our waiting need not be dehumanizing, dispiriting, as waiting often feels.

The New Testament describes it quite differently—not as a difficult means to a better end, but as part of the promise itself. Eugene Peterson writes, “Waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don’t see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.”(2) Waiting itself is, of course, a reminder that we are earthbound.

But so is Christ.

The Christian’s celebration of Christmas is the assurance that we wait with good reason. “The word became flesh,” wrote John, “and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). God did not merely come near, he became flesh that could touch weaknesses, experience loneliness, and encounter the lowest moments of being human. He came to be with us, to move through us, to work within us. He came as small and vulnerable as humans come, getting close enough to bear the scars of our outrage and near enough to prove he would stay regardless. He came far nearer than Aunt Marie—or most of us—are yet able to recognize. “That is what incarnation means,” writes Frederick Buechner. “It is untheological. It is unsophisticated. It is undignified. But according to Christianity, it is the way things are. All religions and philosophies that deny the reality or the significance of the material, the fleshly, the earthbound, are themselves denied.”(3)

God became one of us, not to erase every shadow or to undo the difficulties of humanity, but to be with us in the midst of it, to transform our spectrum of darkness by bearing a truer depth of light, and to enlarge us with the joy of expectancy until the fullness of time when every hope has come to pass.

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

(1) Garrison Keillor, Leaving Home (New York: Viking, 1987), xxi-xxii.

(2) Eugene Peterson, The Message, Romans 8:24-25.

(3) Frederick Buechner, Beyond Words (New York: Harper Collins, 2004), 169.

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Charles Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

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Morning   “In the last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried, saying,

if any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink.” / John 7:37

Patience had her perfect work in the Lord Jesus, and until the last day of the

feast he pleaded with the Jews, even as on this last day of the year he pleads

with us, and waits to be gracious to us. Admirable indeed is the longsuffering

of the Saviour in bearing with some of us year after year, notwithstanding our

provocations, rebellions, and resistance of his Holy Spirit. Wonder of wonders

that we are still in the land of mercy!

Pity expressed herself most plainly, for Jesus cried, which implies not only

the loudness of his voice, but the tenderness of his tones. He entreats us to

be reconciled. “We pray you,” says the Apostle, “as though God did beseech you

by us.” What earnest, pathetic terms are these! How deep must be the love

which makes the Lord weep over sinners, and like a mother woo his children to

his bosom! Surely at the call of such a cry our willing hearts will come.

Provision is made most plenteously; all is provided that man can need to

quench his soul’s thirst. To his conscience the atonement brings peace; to his

understanding the gospel brings the richest instruction; to his heart the

person of Jesus is the noblest object of affection; to the whole man the truth

as it is in Jesus supplies the purest nutriment. Thirst is terrible, but Jesus

can remove it. Though the soul were utterly famished, Jesus could restore it.

Proclamation is made most freely, that every thirsty one is welcome. No other

distinction is made but that of thirst. Whether it be the thirst of avarice,

ambition, pleasure, knowledge, or rest, he who suffers from it is invited. The

thirst may be bad in itself, and be no sign of grace, but rather a mark of

inordinate sin longing to be gratified with deeper draughts of lust; but it is

not goodness in the creature which brings him the invitation, the Lord Jesus

sends it freely, and without respect of persons.

Personality is declared most fully. The sinner must come to Jesus, not to

works, ordinances, or doctrines, but to a personal Redeemer, who his own self

bare our sins in his own body on the tree. The bleeding, dying, rising

Saviour, is the only star of hope to a sinner. Oh for grace to come now and

drink, ere the sun sets upon the year’s last day!

No waiting or preparation is so much as hinted at. Drinking represents a

reception for which no fitness is required. A fool, a thief, a harlot can

drink; and so sinfulness of character is no bar to the invitation to believe

in Jesus. We want no golden cup, no bejewelled chalice, in which to convey the

water to the thirsty; the mouth of poverty is welcome to stoop down and quaff

the flowing flood. Blistered, leprous, filthy lips may touch the stream of

divine love; they cannot pollute it, but shall themselves be purified. Jesus

is the fount of hope. Dear reader, hear the dear Redeemer’s loving voice as he

cries to each of us,

 

“IF ANY MAN THIRST, LET HIM COME UNTO ME AND DRINK.”

 

Evening “The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved.” / Jeremiah

8:20

Not saved! Dear reader, is this your mournful plight? Warned of the judgment

to come, bidden to escape for your life, and yet at this moment not saved! You

know the way of salvation, you read it in the Bible, you hear it from the

pulpit, it is explained to you by friends, and yet you neglect it, and

therefore you are not saved. You will be without excuse when the Lord shall

judge the quick and dead. The Holy Spirit has given more or less of blessing

upon the word which has been preached in your hearing, and times of refreshing

have come from the divine presence, and yet you are without Christ. All these

hopeful seasons have come and gone–your summer and your harvest have

past–and yet you are not saved. Years have followed one another into

eternity, and your last year will soon be here: youth has gone, manhood is

going, and yet you are not saved. Let me ask you–will you ever be saved? Is

there any likelihood of it? Already the most propitious seasons have left you

unsaved; will other occasions alter your condition? Means have failed with

you–the best of means, used perseveringly and with the utmost affection–what

more can be done for you? Affliction and prosperity have alike failed to

impress you; tears and prayers and sermons have been wasted on your barren

heart. Are not the probabilities dead against your ever being saved? Is it not

more than likely that you will abide as you are till death forever bars the

door of hope? Do you recoil from the supposition? Yet it is a most reasonable

one: he who is not washed in so many waters will in all probability go filthy

to his end. The convenient time never has come, why should it ever come? It is

logical to fear that it never will arrive, and that Felix like, you will find

no convenient season till you are in hell. O bethink you of what that hell is,

and of the dread probability that you will soon be cast into it!

Reader, suppose you should die unsaved, your doom no words can picture. Write

out your dread estate in tears and blood, talk of it with groans and gnashing

of teeth: you will be punished with everlasting destruction from the glory of

the Lord, and from the glory of his power. A brother’s voice would fain

startle you into earnestness. O be wise, be wise in time, and ere another year

begins, believe in Jesus, who is able to save to the uttermost. Consecrate

these last hours to lonely thought, and if deep repentance be bred in you, it

will be well; and if it lead to a humble faith in Jesus, it will be best of

all. O see to it that this year pass not away, and you an unforgiven spirit.

Let not the new year’s midnight peals sound upon a joyless spirit! Now, now,

NOW believe, and live.

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Our Sympathetic High Priest – John MacArthur

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“Assuredly He does not give help to angels, but He gives help to the descendant of Abraham. Therefore, He had to be made like His brethren in all things, that He might become a merciful and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people. For since He Himself was tempted in that which He has suffered, He is able to come to the aid of those who are tempted” (Heb. 2:16-18).

In his letters to Timothy, Paul counseled and encouraged his young associate about many things–his health, his critics, his moral and spiritual warfare. His counsel is well summed up in these words: “Remember Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, descendant of David” (2 Tim. 2:8).

Like Timothy, we need to be reminded of Christ’s humanity, especially when life becomes particularly tough. Then we can pray, “Lord, You know what You endured while You were here. I’m going through it now.” We can be sure He knows and will encourage us.

Jesus came not only to save us but also to sympathize with us. He experienced what we experience so He could be a “merciful and faithful high priest.” After all, “we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin” (Heb. 4:15).

Jesus felt everything we will ever feel–and more. Most of us will never know the full degree of any given temptation because we usually succumb long before we reach it. But since Jesus never sinned, He took the full measure of every temptation.

Ours is not a cosmic God, powerful and holy, but indifferent. He knows when we hurt, where we are weak, and how we are tempted. Jesus is not just our Savior, but our loving Lord who sympathizes with us. Rejoice in the greatness of His love for us.

Suggestion for Prayer:  Ask God to remind you of your need of Him at all times, not just when times are tough.

For Future Study:  Memorize 1 Corinthians 10:13 for quick recall whenever you are faced with any trial.

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Build a Bridge – Greg Laurie

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So Philip ran to him, and heard him reading the prophet Isaiah, and said, “Do you understand what you are reading?” And he said, “How can I, unless someone guides me?” And he asked Philip to come up and sit with him.—Acts 26:30–31

When Philip shared the gospel with the Ethiopian dignitary, he demonstrated something that is often lacking in evangelism, and that is tact. Many Christians just fire away with everything they have. They don’t engage the people they speak with. They don’t establish a dialogue. They don’t build a bridge. They just present all their arguments and all of their statements, and they feel so impressed with themselves. Meanwhile, people are looking forward to their shutting up and going away.

Later, the Christian thinks, Boy, I really blew them out of the water when they said this and that. Wasn’t that great? No, it wasn’t great. In reality, it was quite stupid, because our job is not to win the argument; it’s to win the soul.

If we want to effectively share the gospel with people, then we need to engage them. What did the master evangelist Jesus do as He talked with the woman at the well in Samaria? He engaged her in conversation. It was give-and-take. He spoke . . . He listened. She shared her heart with Him . . . He revealed truth to her.

When we share the gospel with people, it is a dialogue—not a monologue. It is not just talking; it is also listening. It is offering the appropriate passages from Scripture and statements from a heart filled with love so that person can come to believe in Jesus Christ.

No one ever will be argued into the kingdom of God. They are going to believe because the Holy Spirit convicted them of their sin. Our job is to simply bring them the essential gospel message.

When the apostle Paul addressed the Greeks on Mars Hill, he took stock of the situation and presented his message accordingly. He used tact—and so should we.