Morning “Have mercy upon me, O God.” / Psalm 51:1

When Dr. Carey was suffering from a dangerous illness, the enquiry was made,
“If this sickness should prove fatal, what passage would you select as the
text for your funeral sermon?” He replied, “Oh, I feel that such a poor sinful
creature is unworthy to have anything said about him; but if a funeral sermon
must be preached, let it be from the words, Have mercy upon me, O God,
according to thy lovingkindness; according unto the multitude of thy tender
mercies blot out my transgressions.'” In the same spirit of humility he
directed in his will that the following inscription and nothing more should be
cut on his gravestone:–

William Carey, Born August 17th, 1761: Died – –
“A wretched, poor, and helpless worm
On thy kind arms I fall.”

Only on the footing of free grace can the most experienced and most honoured
of the saints approach their God. The best of men are conscious above all
others that they are men at the best. Empty boats float high, but heavily
laden vessels are low in the water; mere professors can boast, but true
children of God cry for mercy upon their unprofitableness. We have need that
the Lord should have mercy upon our good works, our prayers, our preachings,
our alms-givings, and our holiest things. The blood was not only sprinkled
upon the doorposts of Israel’s dwelling houses, but upon the sanctuary, the
mercy-seat, and the altar, because as sin intrudes into our holiest things,
the blood of Jesus is needed to purify them from defilement. If mercy be
needed to be exercised towards our duties, what shall be said of our sins? How
sweet the remembrance that inexhaustible mercy is waiting to be gracious to
us, to restore our backslidings, and make our broken bones rejoice!

Evening “All the days of his separation shall he eat nothing that is made of the vine
tree, from the kernels even to the husk.” / Numbers 6:4

Nazarites had taken, among other vows, one which debarred them from the use of
wine. In order that they might not violate the obligation, they were forbidden
to drink the vinegar of wine or strong liquors, and to make the rule still
more clear, they were not to touch the unfermented juice of grapes, nor even
to eat the fruit either fresh or dried. In order, altogether, to secure the
integrity of the vow, they were not even allowed anything that had to do with
the vine; they were, in fact, to avoid the appearance of evil. Surely this is
a lesson to the Lord’s separated ones, teaching them to come away from sin in
every form, to avoid not merely its grosser shapes, but even its spirit and
similitude. Strict walking is much despised in these days, but rest assured,
dear reader, it is both the safest and the happiest. He who yields a point or
two to the world is in fearful peril; he who eats the grapes of Sodom will
soon drink the wine of Gomorrah. A little crevice in the sea-bank in Holland
lets in the sea, and the gap speedily swells till a province is drowned.
Worldly conformity, in any degree, is a snare to the soul, and makes it more
and more liable to presumptuous sins. Moreover, as the Nazarite who drank
grape juice could not be quite sure whether it might not have endured a degree
of fermentation, and consequently could not be clear in heart that his vow was
intact, so the yielding, temporizing Christian cannot wear a conscience void
of offence, but must feel that the inward monitor is in doubt of him. Things
doubtful we need not doubt about; they are wrong to us. Things tempting we
must not dally with, but flee from them with speed. Better be sneered at as a
Puritan than be despised as a hypocrite. Careful walking may involve much
self-denial, but it has pleasures of its own which are more than a sufficient
recompense.

All the days of his separation he shall eat nothing that is produced by the grapevine, not even the seeds or the skins.   Numbers 6:4

 Nazirites had taken, among other vows, one that debarred them from the use of wine. In order that they might not violate the obligation, they were forbidden to drink the vinegar of wine or strong liquors; and to make the rule even clearer, they were not to touch the unfermented juice of grapes, nor even to eat the fruit either fresh or dried. In order to secure the integrity of the vow, they were not even allowed anything that had to do with the vine; they were, in fact, to avoid the appearance of evil.

Surely this is a lesson to the Lord’s separated ones, teaching them to come away from sin in every form, to avoid not merely its grosser shapes but even its spirit and likeness. Such strict walking is much despised in these days, but rest assured, dear reader, it is the safest and happiest path. He who yields a point or two to the world is in fearful peril; he who eats the grapes of Sodom will soon drink the wine of Gomorrah. A little crevice in the seawall in Holland lets in the sea, and the gap soon swells until a province is drowned.

Worldly conformity, in any degree, is a snare to the soul and makes it more and more liable to presumptuous sins. The Nazirite who drank grape juice could not be completely certain whether or not it had fermented and consequently could not be clear in heart that his vow was intact. In a similar way the yielding, vacillating Christian cannot have a clear conscience but is constantly aware of his double standard. Doubtful things we need not wonder about; they are wrong for us. Tempting things we must not play with, but run from them speedily. Better to be sneered at as a Puritan than to be despised as a hypocrite. Careful walking may involve much self-denial, but it has pleasures of its own that are more than a sufficient reward.

Family Reading Plan    Ezekiel 1   Psalm 37

 Gallery statistics report that the average time a person spends looking at a particular work of art is three seconds. To those who spend their lives caring for the great art museums of the world, I imagine this is a disheartening sight to behold day after day. It would have been interesting to hear the thoughts of the St. Petersburg curators who watched as Henri Nouwen sat before Rembrandt’s Return of the Prodigal Son for more than four hours. 

 I wonder how often I am more like the three-second viewer than a captivated Nouwen, moving through every sight of the day with my eyes barely open. How often might I be surrounded by the presence of God, but unaware and unseeing—missing, in my absence, the bigger picture? One of my favorite poems begins with the lines, “Lord, not you, it is I who am absent.”(1)     

The parable of the prodigal son is typically understood as a story that speaks to those who feel they have wandered away from God in belief or obedience. Or it is perhaps a story we apply to a specific time in our lives—a momentous return to faith, a homecoming back to the church, a particular event that caused us to remember God’s mercy personally and powerfully. The phrase “prodigal son” is in fact so well known that even void of its spiritual context it is employed to suggest a return to rightness after a time of foolishness. It is a parable that at one time or another describes many of us. Perhaps it is also a parable that describes us daily.  In the daily struggle to see, the constant battle to be present and conscious of the presence of God in this place, we all come and go like prodigals.

 The parable tells us that the wayward child had a plan for returning to his father’s house: he would confess his sin against heaven and against his father, and then he would ask to be treated as one of the hired servants. He would work his way back into his father’s life. But the father doesn’t even give him a chance to fully present the offer. Upon seeing his son, he says to his slaves, “‘Quickly bring out the best robe and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand and sandals on his feet; and bring the fattened calf, kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.'”(2) With every symbol of restoration, the father who was waiting embraces the son who was lost. 

 Gripped by the intensity of the massive painting before him, Henri Nouwen found himself becoming “more and more part of the story that Jesus once told and Rembrandt once painted.” Yet in Rembrandt’s painting we do not find the father eagerly rushing out to greet his wayward son as it is described in the Gospel of Luke. Rather, viewers find stillness; we find the parable’s characters at rest.  Rembrandt slows flickering minds to the scene that captures a thousand words for a daily walk in faith: “Lord, not you, it is I who am absent.” In this scene, the son has returned, and he is kneeling before his father in his ragged shoes and torn clothes exactly as he is: the one who insisted upon defining himself apart from his father, the one who was absent. In pursuit of life beyond his father, the child lost sight of life itself. 

 In the parable of the prodigal son, Jesus bids us to slow down and be present, to taste and see, to be still and know: the Father is near. God is here, though we are absent. The Father waits, though we put off Him off. God grieves over our wandering hearts and minds, moving in grace to embrace those who long to see. God is a God who runs to greet his wavering child, and it is a sight to behold always. 

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

 (1) Denise Levertov, “Flickering Mind,” The Stream and the Sapphire (New York: New Directions, 1997), 15.
(2) Luke 15:22-25.

Morning “How long will it be ere they believe me?” / Numbers 14:11

Strive with all diligence to keep out that monster unbelief. It so dishonours
Christ, that he will withdraw his visible presence if we insult him by
indulging it. It is true it is a weed, the seeds of which we can never
entirely extract from the soil, but we must aim at its root with zeal and
perseverance. Among hateful things it is the most to be abhorred. Its
injurious nature is so venomous that he that exerciseth it and he upon whom it
is exercised are both hurt thereby. In thy case, O believer! it is most
wicked, for the mercies of thy Lord in the past, increase thy guilt in
doubting him now. When thou dost distrust the Lord Jesus, he may well cry out,
“Behold I am pressed under you, as a cart is pressed that is full of sheaves.”
This is crowning his head with thorns of the sharpest kind. It is very cruel
for a well-beloved wife to mistrust a kind and faithful husband. The sin is
needless, foolish, and unwarranted. Jesus has never given the slightest ground
for suspicion, and it is hard to be doubted by those to whom our conduct is
uniformly affectionate and true. Jesus is the Son of the Highest, and has
unbounded wealth; it is shameful to doubt Omnipotence and distrust
all-sufficiency. The cattle on a thousand hills will suffice for our most
hungry feeding, and the granaries of heaven are not likely to be emptied by
our eating. If Christ were only a cistern, we might soon exhaust his fulness,
but who can drain a fountain? Myriads of spirits have drawn their supplies
from him, and not one of them has murmured at the scantiness of his resources.
Away, then, with this lying traitor unbelief, for his only errand is to cut
the bonds of communion and make us mourn an absent Saviour. Bunyan tells us
that unbelief has “as many lives as a cat:” if so, let us kill one life now,
and continue the work till the whole nine are gone. Down with thee, thou
traitor, my heart abhors thee.

Evening “Into thine hand I commit my spirit: thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of
truth.” / Psalm 31:5

These words have been frequently used by holy men in their hour of departure.
We may profitably consider them this evening. The object of the faithful man’s
solicitude in life and death is not his body or his estate, but his spirit;
this is his choice treasure–if this be safe, all is well. What is this mortal
state compared with the soul? The believer commits his soul to the hand of his
God; it came from him, it is his own, he has aforetime sustained it, he is
able to keep it, and it is most fit that he should receive it. All things are
safe in Jehovah’s hands; what we entrust to the Lord will be secure, both now
and in that day of days towards which we are hastening. It is peaceful living,
and glorious dying, to repose in the care of heaven. At all times we should
commit our all to Jesus’ faithful hand; then, though life may hang on a
thread, and adversities may multiply as the sands of the sea, our soul shall
dwell at ease, and delight itself in quiet resting places.

“Thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of truth.” Redemption is a solid basis for
confidence. David had not known Calvary as we have done, but temporal
redemption cheered him; and shall not eternal redemption yet more sweetly
console us? Past deliverances are strong pleas for present assistance. What
the Lord has done he will do again, for he changes not. He is faithful to his
promises, and gracious to his saints; he will not turn away from his people.

“Though thou slay me I will trust,

Praise thee even from the dust,

Prove, and tell it as I prove,

Thine unutterable love.

Thou mayst chasten and correct,

But thou never canst neglect;

Since the ransom price is paid,

On thy love my hope is stay’d.”

Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.  Psalm 31:5

These words have been frequently used by the godly in their hour of departure. We may profitably consider them this evening. The object of the believer’s interest in life and death is not his body or his possessions but his spirit; this is his choice treasure: If this is safe, then all is well. What is our physical condition compared with the soul?

The believer commits his soul to the hand of God; it came from Him, it is His own, He has until now sustained it, He is able to keep it, and it is fitting that He should receive it. All things are safe in Jehovah’s hands; what we entrust to the Lord will be secure, both now and in that day of days toward which we are hastening. It is peaceful living and glorious dying to rest in the care of heaven. At all times we should commit everything to Jesus’ faithful hand; then even if life should hang on a thread, and difficulties multiply like the sands of the sea, our soul shall live in safety and delight itself in quiet resting places.

“You have redeemed me, O LORD, faithful God.” Redemption is a solid basis for confidence. David did not know Calvary as we do, but even as redemption cheered him, so our eternal redemption will sweetly console us. Past deliverances are strong guarantees for present assistance. What the Lord has done He will do again, for He does not change. He is faithful to His promises and gracious to His saints; He will not turn away from His people.

Though Thou slay me I will trust,

Praise Thou even from the dust,

Prove, and tell it as I prove,

Thine unutterable love.

Thou may chasten and correct,

But Thou never can neglect;

Since the ransom price is paid,

On Thy love my hope is stayed.

Family Reading Plan Lamentations 4   Psalm 35

 Matthew 6:25-34

Fear obviously produces anxiety, but it also creates chaos in our lives and even affects those around us.

• Fear stifles our thinking and actions. It creates indecisiveness that results in stagnation. I have known talented people who procrastinate indefinitely rather than risk failure. Lost opportunities cause erosion of confidence, and the downward spiral begins.
• Fear hinders us from becoming the people God wants us to be. When we are dominated by negative emotions, we cannot achieve the goals He has in mind for us. A lack of self-confidence stymies our belief in what the Lord can do with our lives.
• Fear can drive people to destructive habits. To numb the pain of overbearing distress and foreboding, some turn to things like drugs and alcohol for artificial relief.
• Fear steals peace and contentment. When we’re always afraid, our life becomes centered on pessimism and gloom.
• Fear creates doubt. God promises us an abundant life, but if we surrender instead to the

What are you afraid of–loss, rejection, poverty, or death? Everybody will face such realities at some point. All you need to know is, God will never reject you. Whether you accept Him is your decision.

The Bible tells us that God will meet all our needs. He feeds the birds of the air and clothes the grass with the splendor of lilies. How much more, then, will He care for us, who are made in His image? Our only concern is to obey the heavenly Father and leave the consequences to Him.

 On her deathbed an American author was said to have asked, “What is the answer?” Then after a long silence, she replied, “What is the question?” Whether you approach truth as something solid and knowable or hold the concept as an illusion, it seems a fitting place to start. What is the question? 

 Questions on our hearts and minds can range from cynical and devious to desperate and heartfelt. We might genuinely seek answers at certain points in our lives, while other times aiming more at testing the answerer. But this is nothing new. 

 Hearing of Solomon’s great fame and of his relation to the name of the LORD, the Queen of Sheba planned a trip to Jerusalem. With her royal entourage and queenly offerings, she brought all of the questions she wanted answered.  Whether she was coming to the king known as the wisest man in the world to test him with riddles and mysteries or coming with the hope of finding wisdom in a world of questions, we do not know. But the ancient account of the meeting in 1 Kings 10:3 reports of the queen’s interrogation and the king’s attempt at answering. “And Solomon answered all her questions; nothing was too hard for the king to explain” (1 Kings 10:3).

 In a world where we aren’t always sure what the questions are, or even that the answers can be something real, their interaction is significant. Whether the queen had questions behind her questions or venom behind her questions, Solomon treated her inquiries as reverently as he treated the queen herself. And the story conveys, “She was overwhelmed”—literally in Hebrew, “there was no more wind in her” (10:5).  The quickening insight of one whose wisdom came from God took her breath away. 

 Most of us are not known for reputations of unflinching wisdom and alluring opulence like King Solomon. And the shower of questions that presently berates Christianity often comes with heated words and intimidating contexts. More often than not it seems that Christians are the ones who are left overwhelmed. And yet the directive of the one they follow remains: “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect” (1 Peter 3:15). In a world of loaded questions, it’s a task that easily becomes lost in arrogance or fear, defensiveness or dismissiveness.

 When Solomon first asked God for wisdom, he asked with a knowledge of God’s greatness and an understanding of his desperate need. He was far from perfect, but he seemed to understand that his own answers would fall short. “Give your servant a discerning heart to govern your people and to distinguish between right and wrong,” he prayed. “For who is able to govern this great people of yours?” (1 Kings 3:9). A Christian response to the questions on the hearts of the world—whether angry or earnest—grows out of a response to the heart of God. 

 Catching her breath, the queen left Solomon with a picture of a greater kingdom: “Praise be to the LORD your God, who has delighted in you and placed you on the throne of Israel” (10:9). The queen saw in Solomon the greatness of his God. She saw that it was his God who put him exactly where he was in life and in wisdom. And she saw in Solomon the evidence of God’s love for his servant and the people he ruled. 

 By God’s Spirit, whether the questions on our hearts and the questions of our world are known or unknown, voiced or unvoiced, we can hold in Christ an answer for the hope that is within us.    

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

Morning “I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love.” / Song of Solomon 5:8

Such is the language of the believer panting after present fellowship with
Jesus, he is sick for his Lord. Gracious souls are never perfectly at ease
except they are in a state of nearness to Christ; for when they are away from
him they lose their peace. The nearer to him, the nearer to the perfect calm
of heaven; the nearer to him, the fuller the heart is, not only of peace, but
of life, and vigour, and joy, for these all depend on constant intercourse
with Jesus. What the sun is to the day, what the moon is to the night, what
the dew is to the flower, such is Jesus Christ to us. What bread is to the
hungry, clothing to the naked, the shadow of a great rock to the traveller in
a weary land, such is Jesus Christ to us; and, therefore, if we are not
consciously one with him, little marvel if our spirit cries in the words of
the Song, “I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved,
tell him that I am sick of love.” This earnest longing after Jesus has a
blessing attending it: “Blessed are they that do hunger and thirst after
righteousness”; and therefore, supremely blessed are they who thirst after the
Righteous One. Blessed is that hunger, since it comes from God: if I may not
have the full-blown blessedness of being filled, I would seek the same
blessedness in its sweet bud-pining in emptiness and eagerness till I am
filled with Christ. If I may not feed on Jesus, it shall be next door to
heaven to hunger and thirst after him. There is a hallowedness about that
hunger, since it sparkles among the beatitudes of our Lord. But the blessing
involves a promise. Such hungry ones “shall be filled” with what they are
desiring. If Christ thus causes us to long after himself, he will certainly
satisfy those longings; and when he does come to us, as come he will, oh, how
sweet it will be!

Evening “The unsearchable riches of Christ.” / Ephesians 3:8

My Master has riches beyond the count of arithmetic, the measurement of
reason, the dream of imagination, or the eloquence of words. They are
unsearchable! You may look, and study, and weigh, but Jesus is a greater
Saviour than you think him to be when your thoughts are at the greatest. My
Lord is more ready to pardon than you to sin, more able to forgive than you to
transgress. My Master is more willing to supply your wants than you are to
confess them. Never tolerate low thoughts of my Lord Jesus. When you put the
crown on his head, you will only crown him with silver when he deserves gold.
My Master has riches of happiness to bestow upon you now. He can make you to
lie down in green pastures, and lead you beside still waters. There is no
music like the music of his pipe, when he is the Shepherd and you are the
sheep, and you lie down at his feet. There is no love like his, neither earth
nor heaven can match it. To know Christ and to be found in him–oh! this is
life, this is joy, this is marrow and fatness, wine on the lees well refined.
My Master does not treat his servants churlishly; he gives to them as a king
giveth to a king; he gives them two heavens–a heaven below in serving him
here, and a heaven above in delighting in him forever. His unsearchable riches
will be best known in eternity. He will give you on the way to heaven all you
need; your place of defence shall be the munitions of rocks, your bread shall
be given you, and your waters shall be sure; but it is there, there, where you
shall hear the song of them that triumph, the shout of them that feast, and
shall have a face-to-face view of the glorious and beloved One. The
unsearchable riches of Christ! This is the tune for the minstrels of earth,
and the song for the harpers of heaven. Lord, teach us more and more of Jesus,
and we will tell out the good news to others.

The unsearchable riches of Christ.  Ephesians 3:8

My Master has riches beyond the calculation of arithmetic, the measurement of reason, the dream of imagination, or the eloquence of words. They are unsearchable! You may look and study and ponder, but Jesus is a greater Savior than you think Him to be even when your thoughts are at their best. My Lord is more ready to pardon than you are to sin, more able to forgive than you are to transgress.

My Master is more willing to supply your needs than you are to confess them. Do not tolerate small thoughts of the Lord Jesus. When you put the crown on His head, you will only crown Him with silver when He deserves gold. My Master has riches of happiness to bestow upon you now. He can make you to lie down in green pastures and lead you beside still waters. There is no music like His music that He, the Shepherd, plays for His sheep as they lie down at His feet. There is no love like His; neither earth nor heaven can match it. To know Christ and to be found in Him is real life and true joy. My Master does not treat His servants meanly; He gives to them the way a king gives to a king. He gives them two heavens—a heaven below in serving Him here, and a heaven above in delighting in Him forever.

His unsearchable riches will be known best in eternity. On the way to heaven He will give you all you need. He will defend you and provide for you en route, but it will be at the end of your journey when you will hear the songs of triumph, the shouts of salvation, and you will have a face-to-face view of the glorious and beloved One. “The unsearchable riches of Christ”! This is the tune for the minstrels of earth and the song for the musicians of heaven. Lord, teach us more and more of Jesus, and we will declare the good news to others.

Family Reading Plan Jeremiah 51  Psalm 30

These days, there are plenty of reasons to fear. Our world seems to be in a continuous state of war and crisis. The jobs market is dismal, natural disasters wreak havoc, and stories of crime dominate the headlines. As Christians, we know that fear should have no place in our lives, but how can we ignore what’s going on around us?

Basically, there are two paths you can walk: faith or fear. It’s impossible to simultaneously trust God and not trust God. Another way of saying this is that you cannot both obey and disobey Him–partial obedience is disobedience. So, which road are you traveling?

Some people who read the Bible and believe in God nevertheless choose to live with fear. Seeing others experience hardship, they start wondering if it could happen to them: Someone at my office lost his job; will I be next? Someone died in an accident–I could die too. But this kind
of “logic” places your circumstances above your relationship to God.

If Satan can get you to think like this, he has won the battle for your mind. But when you focus on God rather than your circumstances, whatever the situation is, you win. The Bible tells us, “God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline” (2 Tim. 1:7).

Our heavenly Father understands our disappointment, suffering, pain, fear, and doubt. He is always there to encourage our hearts and help us understand that He’s sufficient for all of our needs. When I accepted this as an absolute truth in my life, I found that my worrying stopped.

 I used to be a faithful listener to the national news. But it seems that more and more reporting consists of communicating more and more bad news. As a result, I’ve become more of a sporadic listener. Of course, I recognize that this is not a recent trend. Most news has rarely, if ever, been uplifting. The events deemed “newsworthy” are generally traumatic or catastrophic events. The recent random shootings in Arizona, Colorado, and Wisconsin, the continuing economic crises in the U.S. and Europe, the continuing conflicts in the Middle East all serve as recent examples.

 These “bad news” stories are even more difficult to deal with because they are not simply news stories affecting someone else; they are real stories of the everyday realities of people all around me, and including me. Close friends have loved ones in Iraq and Afghanistan. Colleagues struggle to make ends meet, and wonder how they can continue to keep up with the rising costs associated with gas and food. Necessities become negotiable and disappear altogether. For many, these are not simply news stories these are their stories of trying to survive in extraordinarily dark times.

 While these particular circumstances are specific to the contemporary context, extraordinarily dark times are sadly nothing new. Even the greatest of leaders in the ancient world were not immune to trouble and despair. As we are told in the Hebrew narratives, David, the great king of Israel, experienced many difficulties throughout his life.  And when he experienced trouble, he turned to poetry. Psalm 18, as one example, appears to have been a poem written after the experience of deliverance from national enemies and the current king of Israel, King Saul. 

 The poetry composed by David expresses his grief and distress in the midst his trials. The imagery he uses is of a near death experience: “The waves of death encompassed me; the torrents of destruction overwhelmed me; the cords of Sheol surrounded me; the snares of death confronted me.  In my distress I called upon the Lord” (2 Samuel 22:5-7a). His distress felt like drowning; being swallowed up by the mighty waves of the sea.

 Yet, somehow David believes he will be delivered. In my distress I called upon the Lord. David hopes in God’s deliverance. Even though he feels overwhelmed by powerful forces at work against him, David affirms that “The Lord was my stay. He brought me forth also into a broad place; he rescued me, because he delighted in me” (Psalm 18:19). 

 It is tempting to understand the Lord’s rescue operation as one that restores the equilibrium or status quo to David. As one commentator notes, the psalmists’ chief concern to give thanks to God are not chiefly found in regaining “physical health, or adding more years to life, or by enhancing the life they now enjoy with greater comfort or security. That is a modern conception of life, whose emptiness is eventually disclosed. According to Israel’s way of thinking, life is missed when people do not choose it: ‘See, I have set before you life and death….Therefore, choose life.'”(1) Those who know David’s story know that it continues to be fraught with difficulty and hardship even as he becomes the great king of Israel.

 God’s rescue was not simply a return to the “way things were” or always a salve of comfort and ease. To read the poem this way is to miss its main image of the God whose rescue shakes the deepest foundations. “The earth shook and quaked the foundations of the mountains were trembling.” God’s rescue often involves the overturning and upending all the things in which we place our hope apart from God.  For the poet David testified: The Lord was his stay. Ultimately, salvation does not come from the things God does for David, or for us. God’s rescue sets one in a broad place opening up new spaces in which we can find room to trust. 

 Sometimes, God’s rescue involves the deliverance from all the things we think make up true life. As Christoph Barth observes, “[W]hat the psalmists pray for in laments, or thank God for in thanksgiving is the restoration of life that they have lost, or its radical renewal through true life—that is the life that is given through relationship to God.”(2)

 When we make God our stay we acknowledge that all other ground is like sand—even those things that appear as a strong foundation. Our notion of rescue is upended. And while we never want to deny that days are often filled with bad news, God can be our stay, open up a broad place where we want more than simply to be rescued and instead desire to become the means of rescue. We can have active hands and feet that swiftly move to help others in times of need, and in times of abundance, with God as our stay. As people living at times in want and in times of bad news, we can renew and restore the lives of others in remarkable ways, inviting them into the broad place where we stand on the ground that is God.

 Margaret Manning is member of the speaking and writing team at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Seattle, Washington.

 (1) Bernard W. Anderson, ed., Out of the Depths: The Psalms Speak for Us Today, (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1983), 127.
(2) As quoted by Anderson, Ibid., 127.

Morning “He that watereth shall be watered also himself.” / Proverbs 11:25

We are here taught the great lesson, that to get, we must give; that to
accumulate, we must scatter; that to make ourselves happy, we must make others
happy; and that in order to become spiritually vigorous, we must seek the
spiritual good of others. In watering others, we are ourselves watered. How?
Our efforts to be useful, bring out our powers for usefulness. We have latent
talents and dormant faculties, which are brought to light by exercise. Our
strength for labour is hidden even from ourselves, until we venture forth to
fight the Lord’s battles, or to climb the mountains of difficulty. We do not
know what tender sympathies we possess until we try to dry the widow’s tears,
and soothe the orphan’s grief. We often find in attempting to teach others,
that we gain instruction for ourselves. Oh, what gracious lessons some of us
have learned at sick beds! We went to teach the Scriptures, we came away
blushing that we knew so little of them. In our converse with poor saints, we
are taught the way of God more perfectly for ourselves and get a deeper
insight into divine truth. So that watering others makes us humble. We
discover how much grace there is where we had not looked for it; and how much
the poor saint may outstrip us in knowledge. Our own comfort is also increased
by our working for others. We endeavour to cheer them, and the consolation
gladdens our own heart. Like the two men in the snow; one chafed the other’s
limbs to keep him from dying, and in so doing kept his own blood in
circulation, and saved his own life. The poor widow of Sarepta gave from her
scanty store a supply for the prophet’s wants, and from that day she never
again knew what want was. Give then, and it shall be given unto you, good
measure, pressed down, and running over.

Evening “I said not unto the seed of Jacob, Seek ye me in vain.” / Isaiah 45:19

We may gain much solace by considering what God has not said. What he has said
is inexpressibly full of comfort and delight; what he has not said is scarcely
less rich in consolation. It was one of these “said nots” which preserved the
kingdom of Israel in the days of Jeroboam the son of Joash, for “the Lord said
not that he would blot out the name of Israel from under heaven.” 2 Kings
14:27. In our text we have an assurance that God will answer prayer, because
he hath “not said unto the seed of Israel, Seek ye me in vain.” You who write
bitter things against yourselves should remember that, let your doubts and
fears say what they will, if God has not cut you off from mercy, there is no
room for despair: even the voice of conscience is of little weight if it be
not seconded by the voice of God. What God has said, tremble at! But suffer
not your vain imaginings to overwhelm you with despondency and sinful despair.
Many timid persons have been vexed by the suspicion that there may be
something in God’s decree which shuts them out from hope, but here is a
complete refutation to that troublesome fear, for no true seeker can be
decreed to wrath. “I have not spoken in secret, in a dark place of the earth;
I have not said,” even in the secret of my unsearchable decree, “Seek ye me in
vain.” God has clearly revealed that he will hear the prayer of those who call
upon him, and that declaration cannot be contravened. He has so firmly, so
truthfully, so righteously spoken, that there can be no room for doubt. He
does not reveal his mind in unintelligible words, but he speaks plainly and
positively, “Ask, and ye shall receive.” Believe, O trembler, this sure
truth–that prayer must and shall be heard, and that never, even in the
secrets of eternity, has the Lord said unto any living soul, “Seek ye me in
vain.”

I did not say to the offspring of Jacob, ‘seek me in vain.’   Isaiah 45:19

We can gain a great deal of comfort by considering what God has not said. What He has said is full of comfort and delight; but what He has not said is scarcely less rich in consolation. It was what God had not said that preserved the kingdom of Israel in the days of Jeroboam the son of Joash, for “the LORD had not said that he would blot out the name of Israel from under heaven” (2 Kings 14:27). In our text we have an assurance that God will answer prayer because He “did not say to the offspring of Jacob, ‘Seek me in vain.'”

Those of you who are prone to self-condemnation should remember that, lest your doubts and fears say what they will, if God has not cut you off from mercy, there is no need for despair: Even the voice of conscience carries little weight if it is not seconded by the voice of God. We should tremble at what God has said! But do not allow your rambling thoughts to overwhelm you with despondency and sinful despair. Many timid persons have been vexed by the suspicion that there may be something in God’s decree that shuts them out from hope, but we have here a complete rebuttal of that troublesome fear, for no true seeker can be decreed to wrath. “I did not speak in secret, in a land of darkness; I did not say [even in the secret of my unsearchable decree]… , ‘Seek me in vain.'”

God has clearly revealed that He will hear the prayer of those who call upon Him, and that declaration cannot be contradicted. He has spoken so firmly, so truthfully, so righteously that there can be no room for doubt. He does not reveal His mind in unintelligible words, but He speaks plainly and positively. “Everyone who asks receives.”1 Doubter, believe this sure truth—that prayer must and will be heard, and that never, even in the secrets of eternity, has the Lord said to any living soul, “Seek me in vain.”

1Matthew 7:8

Family Reading Plan Jeremiah 50   Psalm 28

Have you ever ignored the press of conviction upon your heart? Maybe you rationalized your wrongdoing with the thought that if God were really upset, He’d put a stop to things by disciplining you. Psalm 50:21 reminds us that the silence of heaven does not mean approval. Remaining in sin is an abuse of the Lord’s patience.

When God seems slow to react, we might hope He’s overlooking our transgressions–we’d like to continue in sin because the momentary pleasure is more appealing than obedience. But thankfully, the Father knows our weaknesses, our innate carnality, and the state of our spiritual growth, and He therefore measures His response. Motivated by love and a desire to gently restore His children to righteousness, God refrains from doling out immediate punishment. Instead, He waits for the Holy Spirit’s proddings to impact the believer’s heart. The weight of conviction is actually an invitation to turn from wrongdoing and return to godliness.

However, we’re a stubborn people. There are times when we persist in sin because the sentence against an evil deed isn’t executed quickly (Eccl. 8:11). In this dangerous situa-tion, it’s possible to immerse ourselves in sin and harden our hearts against the Lord. Then the Holy Spirit’s call to repentance falls on spiritual ears rapidly going deaf.

As we learn and understand more about God and His ways, we are increasingly responsible to live righteously. The Lord is not slow; He’s patient. Do not abuse His patience with callous disregard for His statutes. Repent and be holy in the sight of the Lord.

 If you have ever read anything of Saint Simeon the Stylite, undoubtedly, you have not forgotten him. Simeon was the first of a long succession of “pillar hermits” who held a great reputation for holiness in Eastern Christendom. Practicing a rather peculiar form of asceticism, Simeon sat atop a freestanding, fifty-foot column for 36 years. Upon his pillar, Simeon devoted himself to silence, prayer, fasting, and the writing of letters. 

 Saint Francis of Assisi lived his life on land, but like Simeon, with his heart firmly planted in the heavens. He is celebrated as the gentle saint with the all-embracing love of nature. He ate with lepers, sang to flowers, and preached entire sermons to birds. Saint Francis served Christ passionately, giving away everything—his wealth, his clothes, his rights. Even his asceticism was clothed with a sort of divine romance; he often referred to “Lady Poverty” as his wife of surpassing beauty. 

 There is something within the lifestyles of the early Christian saints, mystics, and martyrs that make me wonder about the comfortable slumber of my soul. Their stories are filled with a curious intensity, so far from the Laodicean neutrality around me; the synonym of laziness that describes my own church as much as it described the Laodiceans that made it an adjective. Many of the early Christians lived lives full of visions of Christ’s suffering, others spent months or years in caves wholly devoted to prayer and fasting in pursuit of God. In each story, however extreme or strange the expression of faith, evident is the incredible thirst of a soul, the passionate pursuit of God, and the delight of a life lived in the presence of Christ. At a time when one can look around and see so much thirst for novelty, for thrill or for security, such lives depict a deep well of hope—a well these men and women drank deeply of themselves—indeed, living their lives solely to pursue.

 To two men who were once following him, Jesus turned and asked point-blankly: “What do you want?” What if it is a question he still wants us to answer? What is it you want? What are you looking for? What is it you’d call your deepest desire? What would it take to make you feel alive? We find ourselves in a world filled with many tempting waters said to satisfy any thirst. And yet, our chorus seems to be closer to the old song: “I can’t get no satisfaction.” 

 Yet the pull of heart and mind for satisfaction is persistent. Saint Augustine famously wrote that our hearts are only satisfied when they are satisfied with God. King David pursued many things passionately, including women, kingdoms, and power. But his thirst was not touched until he fell to his knees and admitted that his longing was for the touch of God. He writes in Psalm 63, “O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you, my soul thirsts for you.”  When God is seen clearly, the seeming promises of the world come into focus. “My soul longs for you,” writes David, “in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” 

 Jesus once said to anyone who would listen, “If anyone is thirsty, let them come to me and drink.” Generations of thirsting pilgrims have prayed that all would find their way to these real waters: “And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.”(1) If you know the longing is real, what might become of it if you turned that restless thirst toward God? What if we lived as if truly knowing that anything that is not eternal is eternally unable to satisfy our deepest thirsts? With joy perhaps we, too, might draw deeply and be satisfied by Christ the King. 

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

 (1) Ephesians 3:17-19.

Morning “The sweet psalmist of Israel.” / 2 Samuel 23:1

Among all the saints whose lives are recorded in Holy Writ, David possesses an
experience of the most striking, varied, and instructive character. In his
history we meet with trials and temptations not to be discovered, as a whole,
in other saints of ancient times, and hence he is all the more suggestive a
type of our Lord. David knew the trials of all ranks and conditions of men.
Kings have their troubles, and David wore a crown: the peasant has his cares,
and David handled a shepherd’s crook: the wanderer has many hardships, and
David abode in the caves of Engedi: the captain has his difficulties, and
David found the sons of Zeruiah too hard for him. The psalmist was also tried
in his friends, his counsellor Ahithophel forsook him, “He that eateth bread
with me, hath lifted up his heel against me.” His worst foes were they of his
own household: his children were his greatest affliction. The temptations of
poverty and wealth, of honour and reproach, of health and weakness, all tried
their power upon him. He had temptations from without to disturb his peace,
and from within to mar his joy. David no sooner escaped from one trial than he
fell into another; no sooner emerged from one season of despondency and alarm,
than he was again brought into the lowest depths, and all God’s waves and
billows rolled over him. It is probably from this cause that David’s psalms
are so universally the delight of experienced Christians. Whatever our frame
of mind, whether ecstasy or depression, David has exactly described our
emotions. He was an able master of the human heart, because he had been
tutored in the best of all schools–the school of heart-felt, personal
experience. As we are instructed in the same school, as we grow matured in
grace and in years, we increasingly appreciate David’s psalms, and find them
to be “green pastures.” My soul, let David’s experience cheer and counsel thee
this day.

Evening “And they fortified Jerusalem unto the broad wall.” / Nehemiah 3:8

Cities well fortified have broad walls, and so had Jerusalem in her glory. The
New Jerusalem must, in like manner, be surrounded and preserved by a broad
wall of nonconformity to the world, and separation from its customs and
spirit. The tendency of these days break down the holy barrier, and make the
distinction between the church and the world merely nominal. Professors are no
longer strict and Puritanical, questionable literature is read on all hands,
frivolous pastimes are currently indulged, and a general laxity threatens to
deprive the Lord’s peculiar people of those sacred singularities which
separate them from sinners. It will be an ill day for the church and the world
when the proposed amalgamation shall be complete, and the sons of God and the
daughters of men shall be as one: then shall another deluge of wrath be
ushered in. Beloved reader, be it your aim in heart, in word, in dress, in
action to maintain the broad wall, remembering that the friendship of this
world is enmity against God.

The broad wall afforded a pleasant place of resort for the inhabitants of
Jerusalem, from which they could command prospects of the surrounding country.
This reminds us of the Lord’s exceeding broad commandments, in which we walk
at liberty in communion with Jesus, overlooking the scenes of earth, and
looking out towards the glories of heaven. Separated from the world, and
denying ourselves all ungodliness and fleshly lusts, we are nevertheless not
in prison, nor restricted within narrow bounds; nay, we walk at liberty,
because we keep his precepts. Come, reader, this evening walk with God in his
statutes. As friend met friend upon the city wall, so meet thou thy God in the
way of holy prayer and meditation. The bulwarks of salvation thou hast a right
to traverse, for thou art a freeman of the royal burgh, a citizen of the
metropolis of the universe.

And they restored Jerusalem as far as the broad wall.   Nehemiah 3:8

 Well-fortified cities have broad walls, and so did Jerusalem in her glory days. The New Jerusalem must, similarly, be surrounded and preserved by a broad wall of nonconformity to the world and separation from its patterns and ideas. There is a tendency today to break down this holy barrier and make the distinction between the Church and the world merely nominal. Believers are no longer fixed on godliness, questionable literature is widely read, frivolous pastimes are eagerly indulged, and a general laxity threatens to deprive the Lord’s special people of those sacred distinctives that separate them from sinners. It will be a bad day for the Church and the world when the proposed amalgamation is complete, and the sons of God and the daughters of men shall be united, and another deluge of wrath is ushered in. Beloved reader, make it your aim in heart, in word, in dress, in action to maintain the broad wall, remembering that the friendship of this world is enmity against God.

The Broad Wall provided a pleasant place of relaxation for the inhabitants of Jerusalem, from which they enjoyed sweeping views of the surrounding country. This reminds us of the Lord’s exceedingly broad commandments, which provide a pathway to freedom and communion with Jesus. From here we look upon the scenes of earth and gaze toward the glories of heaven. Separated from the world, and denying ourselves all ungodliness and fleshly lusts, we are not in prison nor restricted within narrow boundaries; no, we walk in freedom, because we keep His commands.

Come, reader; this evening walk with God in His statutes. As friend met friend upon the city wall, so meet your God on the path of holy prayer and meditation. You have every right to stand upon the walls of salvation, for you have been given the key to the King’s city—you are a citizen of the metropolis of the universe.

Family Reading Plan Jeremiah 49 Psalm 26

 Joshua 21:45  

God always keeps His promises. This is one thing you can be sure of and the principle bulwark of your faith: If the Lord says He is going to do something, then you can stake your life on the fact that He will do it. It is crucial for you to understand this if you want to grow in an intimate relationship with God and walk in the center of His will.

Think about it: in Matthew 16, when Jesus asked the disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter responded, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (vv. 15–16). To this, Jesus declared, “Blessed are you, Simon Barjona, because flesh and blood did not reveal this to you, but My Father who is in heaven. I also say to you that … upon this rock I will build My church; and the gates of Hades will not overpower it” (vv. 17–18).

Jesus did not mean that the church would be based on Peter; rather, it is founded on the truth that Jesus Christ is God’s Son and the Messiah. Jesus did, however, intend to use Peter and the others to spread the gospel.

Again, relationship was poured into the foundation of God’s work on earth—and it always will be. The Father kept His Word by sending us the Savior who would redeem us, and all the powers of hell could not prevent Him from fulfilling this all-important promise to us. Likewise, nothing can stop Him from keeping every pledge He has made to you.

Joshua 21:45 tells us, “Not one of the good promises which the Lord had made to the house of Israel failed; all came to pass.” This is the basis of your confidence that He will keep His promises for the future—that He will make a home for you in heaven (John 14:2–3), that you will see your believing loved ones there (1 Thess. 4:15–17), and that you will dwell in His presence forever (Rev. 22:3–5). All history testifies to the fact that God always keeps His Word. That’s why you are wise to trust Him.

 The well-known lines of William Blake’s last epic poem “Jerusalem” conjure images of Jerusalem’s first pilgrims: 

 I give you the end of a golden string; 
Only wind it into a ball, 
It will lead you in at Heaven’s gate, 
Built in Jerusalem’s wall.

Several times a year, when it was time to celebrate a festival, crowds of pilgrims would make the trek together toward Jerusalem. Celebrating the Feast of Passover was a command hastening back to the last days of slavery in Egypt, and later reinstated under King Josiah. Many traveled from a great distance, their caravans taking more than a few days to arrive. For some the trip was no doubt long and strenuous, and it would perhaps be understandable if, when the journey was trying, only a drudging sense of obligation moved them forward. Yet, in the Scriptures, not only the feast but the trip itself is described as a time of celebration and worship. 

 The psalmist remembers leading the procession to the house of God “with shouts of joy and thanksgiving among the festive throng.” Elsewhere the writer recalls the presence of God and the fellowship of believers as they walked together among the crowds to Jerusalem. “I rejoiced with those who said to me, ‘Let us go to the house of the LORD.'” The journey itself, though trying or tiring, was an integral part of the festival.(1)

 There are days when the reality of life as a pilgrim moving with the multitudes is as shining as Blake’s golden string. As a Christian, I see myself on a journey in great company, I see signs of the kingdom before me, and like the writer of Hebrews and the ancients ahead of me, I am sure of what I hope for and certain of what I do not see. But there are also times when I see no golden string and begin to wonder if I was ever really given one, times when I see no sign of the kingdom and wonder if it is really present and among us like he said. On these days I feel more like a lonely wanderer than a voice in the great assembly shouting thanks along the way. 

 But in this imagery of pilgrimage left behind by the psalmist, I believe we find a metaphor to live and hope to proclaim, even when the journey seems most uncertain or tedious. In every season of a life moving toward God, the psalmist shows us that the one we journey toward—and with—is the reality that sets our hearts toward pilgrimage in the first place. In this alone, is there not reason to give thanks along the way? We seek because there is one to find. We follow even in difficulty because God is among the festive throng. Whether in loneliness or in triumph, we are given songs to sing and thanks to voice. And in the Son we find the most hopeful image of a pilgrim, a man who came far from home to pronounce the kingdom among us, and walked forward even unto death to show us into that kingdom. As we move further up and farther in, we are promised that the road is costly, even as he offers a burden that is easy and a yoke that is light.

 As the weary pilgrims of Israel made their ascent to the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, they sang with the journey yet on their hearts: “How lovely is your dwelling place, O LORD Almighty! My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the LORD; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God” (Psalm 84:1-2). It is a stirring image: a great crowd making the ascent to worship God after a long journey already wrought with thanksgiving on their lips. It is all the more stirring to see yourself as one of them: “Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage” (Psalm 84:5).  

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

 (1) cf. Psalm 42:4, 122:1.