It has been said that life is like entering a very long movie that has already started and then learning that you have to leave it before it ends. It is at once an analogy I appreciate and find troubling. As a Christian, it is the reality, and the hope, I profess: “My days are like the evening shadow; I wither away like grass.  But you, O LORD, sit enthroned forever; your renown endures through all generations.”(1) Even so, entering a movie already started and leaving before it ends also means that I could entirely miss the point.

Every time I read St. Augustine’s Confessions I seem to come uncomfortably face to face with myself, and with it, the thought that someone has already told my story—or at least very real parts of it. It is this shock of recognition that wakes me to my own pride and makes real the danger of missing the point. In Augustine, as in countless others who have wrestled with God long before me, I am reminded that I am a small character in a much greater story. I have entered a movie that has already started, and to my surprise, it’s not all about me.

What if there is a vast stage full of lives who have wrestled with questions quite similar to your own? Men and women who have gone before you may well have lived with the same doubts and faith, pains and hope. Many have lived aware, often more than we are, of life as it existed before them and time that would march beyond them. Many have lived to “tell the old, old story,” that they might take it in to their own. For they saw with the writer of Ecclesiastes that it is important to realize there is “nothing new under the sun,” lest we miss the sun entirely by focusing only on the shadows we watch it cast. They saw that it is important we see the momentaryness of our lives specifically because there is a permanence to life itself, a story with an end and a beginning.

Jesus once turned to his disciples and said, “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see. For I tell you that many prophets and kings wanted to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it” (Luke 10:22-23). The disciples were seeing in the present all that kings and prophets looked for at a distance. Yet even those who walked intimately with Christ were not always aware of all there was to see. Chances are good we are missing him too.

If life is like entering a movie that has already started and leaving before it ends, it is important to look both behind us and ahead of us in order to see what is in front of us. There is only one place in Scripture where God is referred to as the “Ancient of Days” but it significantly comes from the lips of one indelibly marked by the present. “As I looked,” says Daniel describing a dream, “thrones were set in place, and the Ancient of Days took his seat.  His clothing was as white as snow; the hair of his head was white like wool. His throne was flaming with fire, and its wheels were all ablaze” (7:9). This one addressing God as sovereign over days long before his own is someone who could have been overwhelmed with the small picture of life before him. Jerusalem was in ruins; God’s people were scattered. Daniel could have easily viewed his situation as being stuck somewhere in the middle of a movie he wasn’t happy with, yet he chose to see beyond the troubling scene in which he was living. And he saw the “Ancient of Days” in the midst of the days he was given.

We, too, have entered a story that has already started and we may very well leave before it ends. But we can still live with sight beyond our own—looking back at lives of faith and God in history, gazing forward at all that God has promised, seeing all that God has placed before us. Though the picture before us seems unfair, or life is not what we bargained for, there is a story. Our lives may be like the evening shadow, but they are lived within a greater tale.

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

(1) Psalm 102:11-12.

And they rose that same hour and returned to Jerusalem. . . . Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he was known to them.  Luke 24:33, 35

When the two disciples had reached Emmaus and were refreshing themselves at the evening meal, the mysterious stranger who had so enchanted them on the road took bread and broke it, made Himself known to them, and then vanished out of their sight. They had constrained Him to stay with them because the day was far spent; but now, although it was much later, their love was a lamp to their feet, indeed wings also. They forgot the darkness, their weariness was all gone, and immediately they headed back the seven miles to tell the wonderful news of a risen Lord who had appeared to them on the road. They reached the Christians in Jerusalem and were received by a burst of joyful news before they could tell their own tale.

These early Christians were all on fire to speak of Christ’s resurrection and to proclaim what they knew of the Lord; they happily shared their experiences. This evening let their example impress us deeply.

We also must bear our witness concerning Jesus. John’s account of the sepulcher needed to be supplemented by Peter; and Mary could speak of something further still; the combined accounts provide us with a complete testimony from which nothing necessary is missing. Each of us has peculiar gifts and personal experiences; but the one object God has in view is the maturing of the whole Body of Christ. We must, therefore, bring our spiritual possessions and lay them at the apostles’ feet, that we may share all of what God has given to us.

Withhold no part of the precious truth, but speak what you know and declare what you have seen. Do not allow the toil or darkness or possible unbelief of your friends to dissuade you. Let us rise and march to the place of duty, and there declare what great things God has shown to our soul.

The family reading plan for May 25, 2012

Isaiah 26 | 1 John 4

Galatians 1:6-9

The Word of God is truth that’s living and able to penetrate human souls (Heb. 4:12). Consider how powerful Scripture is: it can change hearts, save lives from eternal condemnation, and give hope to the hopeless.

Is it any wonder, then, that the Bible is a battlefield of Satan? The Devil will do his best to destroy its message and truth. In fact, this has been our Enemy’s continuous goal since he chose to turn from God.

Our heavenly Father has graciously let us know in advance the outcome of this ongoing battle: Truth will prevail. But while the Lord has the ultimate victory, Satan can gain ground among individuals. His tactics are dangerous and deceptive to the unsuspecting. For this reason, we should carefully guard against his attacks, which are hard to recognize unless we are prepared.

False teaching is one of Satan’s preferred tactics for leading us astray. At first glance, such instruction often seems to align with Scripture, but do not be misled by the deception. Two things are essential for standing firm against these slippery falsehoods: to be well grounded in the truth of God’s Word and to listen to His Spirit. Only then can we recognize the error and avoid the pitfalls of Satan’s lies.

The Enemy longs to mislead believers so they’ll be ineffective for the kingdom. He also wants to keep all unsaved souls far from salvation through Jesus Christ. Friends, prepare for battle. Grow in the knowledge of truth, and lean on God’s Spirit to guide you moment by moment.

Every thinking reader of the Bible is bound to ask at some point in time, “Does this book actually condone slavery?”  To be sure, slavery is not the only issue the Bible causes us to question. The Old Testament is rife with palace intrigues, polygamy, divorce, violence and the like, and godly people are very often part of the problem. Although the New Testament is decidedly improved, it still seems to fall far short of that which twenty-first century human rights would expect. There are no women among the twelve disciples of Jesus and Christian masters do have slaves working for them.

To address issues of this kind, we need to step back and ask three larger questions: What are the theological, political, and cultural contexts in which the Old Testament narrative unfolds, and how is the behavior of God’s people in the Old Testament expected to be different from those of other cultures?  What are the major developments in the New Testament that give us a clue to interpretation of Old Testament ethics? And are we expected to further extrapolate changes in behavior beyond the New Testament times to the present day?

To begin with, it should not be forgotten that the Old Testament narratives contain codes which are ethical, ceremonial, and social. Therefore, their application to the present day should not always be considered in literal terms. The social elements of those narratives need not apply to us, and the ceremonial ones are largely fulfilled in the completed work of Christ. It is the ethical aspects of Old Testament teaching with which we should be concerned, and there is indeed much to consider.

As an example, on the way to Canaan, God tells his people through Moses that the alien, or foreigner, among them should not be oppressed (Exodus 23:9). The reason given is fascinating: the people of Israel know in their hearts how it feels to be oppressed!  (The word translated “alien” is not the same as slave, but the experience of the Israelites in Egypt was certainly that of slaves.)  Thus, we see the first statement on human rights: the alien was to be treated as a citizen; in fact, he was to be loved as one of their own.(1) Even when Hebrew law and custom shared in the common heritage of the ancient world, there is a unique care in God’s Name for those people who by status were not considered people—something absent from the codes of Babylon and Assyria.

The New Testament further gives us a paradigm to interpret Old Testament practices. In one of their notorious fault-finding missions, the Pharisees test Jesus on the subject of divorce.(2) He initially appears to play into their hands, asking what Mosaic Law has to say on the subject. When they gleefully quote the permission of Moses to divorce one’s wife, Jesus lays down a method of interpretation that has to be taken very seriously. He makes it clear that certain Old Testament commandments were to be understood as concessions to the hardness of the human heart rather than as expressions of God’s holy character. He goes on to reference how this was not the state of affairs in the beginning—that is, before the fall.

The regulation of slavery should therefore be seen as a practical step to deal with the realities of the day resulting from human fall. The aberrations that lead to alienation among individuals, races, and nations are the result of a fundamental broken relationship between humankind and God. Within this tragic scenario, Scripture comes as a breath of fresh air as it seeks to redeem the situation and sets us on a path of ever-increasing amelioration of our predicament. While the Bible does not reject slavery outright, the conclusion that it actually favors slavery is patently wrong. Scripture does reveal that slavery is not ideal, both in Old Testament laws forbidding the enslavement of fellow Israelites, the law of jubilee, and in New Testament applications of Christ. In fact, the Bible teaches that the feeling of superiority in general is sin!(3) The abolition of slavery is thus not only permissible by biblical standards, but demanded by biblical principles. The pre-fall statement that should guide and ultimately abolish such (and any) practices of superiority is the declaration that all humans—men and women—are made in the image of God.

On this principle, the Bible even lays the foundation for progressing far beyond what was possible in New Testament times by addressing the very economic discrimination and favoritism of which slavery is the worst expression.(4) Of course, lamentably, it must be admitted that the Church has taken many centuries to live out what Scripture taught long ago, and no doubt we continue to drag our feet. The time delay between the Word of Scripture and its implementation in society is often due to the “holy huddle” mentality prevailing among Christians who are largely unconcerned about issues outside of their immediate periphery. Another reason many Christians continue to remain silent in the face of injustice is the platonic view of the cosmos we have adopted, implying that life in the hereafter is the only issue to be addressed, while we watch the world go by in its destructive way. Both mentalities are sadly misguided.

Those of us who say that we believe the Bible to be the Word of God have to raise our level of awareness and involvement regarding social issues. Having failed to do so, we have let these issues pass into the hands of those who may not be Christians, but are better informed about social injustice and concerned enough to fight wrong practices through legal means. While they have no logical basis to do what they are doing, the real tragedy is that we who do have a basis to address these issues remain largely indifferent. May the Lord of Scripture open our eyes to see that God is interested in the redemption of the whole of creation and not just disembodied souls and spirits!

L.T. Jeyachandran is executive director of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Singapore.

(1) See Leviticus 19:33-34.

(2) See Matthew 19:1-9; Mark 10:2-9.

(3) See Philemon 2:1-8.

(4) See James 2:1-9; 5:1-6.

Morning   “Forsake me not, O Lord.”   Psalm 38:21

Frequently we pray that God would not forsake us in the hour of trial and

temptation, but we too much forget that we have need to use this prayer at all

times. There is no moment of our life, however holy, in which we can do without

his constant upholding. Whether in light or in darkness, in communion or in

temptation, we alike need the prayer, “Forsake me not, O Lord.” “Hold thou me

up, and I shall be safe.” A little child, while learning to walk, always needs

the nurse’s aid. The ship left by the pilot drifts at once from her course. We

cannot do without continued aid from above; let it then be your prayer today,

“Forsake me not. Father, forsake not thy child, lest he fall by the hand of

the enemy. Shepherd, forsake not thy lamb, lest he wander from the safety of

the fold. Great Husbandman, forsake not thy plant, lest it wither and die.

Forsake me not, O Lord,’ now; and forsake me not at any moment of my life.

Forsake me not in my joys, lest they absorb my heart. Forsake me not in my

sorrows, lest I murmur against thee. Forsake me not in the day of my repentance,

lest I lose the hope of pardon, and fall into despair; and forsake me not in the

day of my strongest faith, lest faith degenerate into presumption. Forsake me

not, for without thee I am weak, but with thee I am strong. Forsake me not, for

my path is dangerous, and full of snares, and I cannot do without thy

guidance. The hen forsakes not her brood; do thou then evermore cover me with

thy feathers, and permit me under thy wings to find my refuge. Be not far from

me, O Lord, for trouble is near, for there is none to help.’ Leave me not,

neither forsake me, O God of my salvation!'”

“O ever in our cleansed breast,

Bid thine Eternal Spirit rest;

And make our secret soul to be

A temple pure and worthy thee.”

Evening   “And they rose up the same hour, and returned to Jerusalem … and they told

what things were done in the way, and how he was known of them.”  Luke 24:33-35

When the two disciples had reached Emmaus, and were refreshing themselves at the

evening meal, the mysterious stranger who had so enchanted them upon the road,

took bread and brake it, made himself known to them, and then vanished out of

their sight. They had constrained him to abide with them, because the day was

far spent; but now, although it was much later, their love was a lamp to their

feet, yea, wings also; they forgot the darkness, their weariness was all gone,

and forthwith they journeyed back the threescore furlongs to tell the gladsome

news of a risen Lord, who had appeared to them by the way. They reached the

Christians in Jerusalem, and were received by a burst of joyful news

before they could tell their own tale. These early Christians were all on fire

to speak of Christ’s resurrection, and to proclaim what they knew of the Lord;

they made common property of their experiences. This evening let their example

impress us deeply. We too must bear our witness concerning Jesus. John’s account

of the sepulchre needed to be supplemented by Peter; and Mary could speak of

something further still; combined, we have a full testimony from which nothing

can be spared. We have each of us peculiar gifts and special manifestations; but

the one object God has in view is the perfecting of the whole body of Christ. We

must, therefore, bring our spiritual possessions and lay them

at the apostle’s feet, and make distribution unto all of what God has given to

us. Keep back no part of the precious truth, but speak what you know, and

testify what you have seen. Let not the toil or darkness, or possible unbelief

of your friends, weigh one moment in the scale. Up, and be marching to the place

of duty, and there tell what great things God has shown to your soul.

Only let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ.  Philippians 1:27

The apostle’s concern is not simply with our talk and conversation with one another, but with the whole course of our life and behavior in the world. The Greek word translated “manner of life” signifies the actions and the privileges of citizenship: And in this way we are commanded to let our actions, as citizens of the New Jerusalem, be worthy of the Gospel of Christ. What “manner of life” is this?

In the first place, the Gospel is very simple. So Christians should be simple and plain in their habits. There should be about our manner, our speech, our dress, our whole behavior that simplicity that is the very soul of beauty.

The Gospel is preeminently true. It is gold without dross; and the Christian’s life will be lusterless and valueless without the jewel of truth.

The Gospel is a very fearless Gospel; it boldly proclaims the truth, whether men like it or not. We must be equally faithful and unflinching.

But the Gospel is also very gentle. We see this in Jesus: “a bruised reed he will not break.”1 Some professing Christians are sharper than a thorn-hedge; such men are not like Jesus. Let us seek to win others by the gentleness of our words and deeds.

The Gospel is very loving. It is the message of the God of love to a lost and fallen race. Christ’s command to His disciples was, “Love one another.” We need more real, hearty union with and love for all the saints, more tender compassion toward the souls of the worst and vilest of men!

We must not forget that the Gospel of Christ is holy. It never excuses sin: It pardons it, but only through an atonement. If our life is to resemble the Gospel, we must shun not merely the grosser vices, but everything that would hinder our perfect conformity to Christ.

For His sake, for our own sakes, and for the sake of others, we must strive day by day to let our manner of life be more in accordance with His Gospel.

1 Matthew 12:20

The family reading plan for May 24, 2012

Isaiah 25 | 1 John 3

 1 Corinthians 10:12-13

Some Christians see a fellow believer fall into sin but fail to acknowledge that they, too, could stumble. That’s dangerous. Satan has them right where he wants them: deceived by a false sense of confidence. Three enemies are constantly at work trying to bring us down: the Devil, his world system, and our own treacherous flesh.

Even though believers have a righteous standing before God, we must each, like Paul, acknowledge an internal problem: “sin which dwells in me” (Rom. 7:20). Satan takes full advantage of this weakness, luring us with fleshly and worldly temptations. He stokes our pride so we’ll be blinded to our own vulnerability to stumbling.

Christians need to be continually on guard. Since ignorance–of the nature of sin, the strategies of the Enemy, and our own areas of weakness–sets us up for failure, we cannot afford to be careless in our thinking. Anytime you find yourself excusing, redefining, or rationalizing sin, you’ve lost your sensitivity to the Lord. God’s Word must always fill our minds and direct our steps.

If you’ve drifted from the Lord, turn back to Him by acknowledging your sin and accepting full responsibility for it. Repentance simply means changing your mind and going in a different direction–toward God instead of away from Him.

The next step is harder. Respond with gratitude for the Lord’s chastisement. Every time believers fall into sin, God lovingly works to bring them back into a fellowship with Him. His discipline may be painful, but it’s always good because it brings us to our senses and reconnects us with our Father.

I am notorious for reading sentences—sometimes entire pages—before realizing that that my mind is simply elsewhere. With my eyes moving along the paragraphs, taking in the ordered sentences, it is as if my mind pronounces each word into a room with no vacancy. I am reading in a way that can’t even be called half-hearted. Evidently, the practical spirit of multi-tasking isn’t always practical.  Mentally outlining my to-do list while reading Tolstoy isn’t reading Tolstoy. Hearing the words, I have heard nothing. I walk away from the paragraphs as if never seeing the sentences at all.

So it is distinctly possible, as Jesus once stated, to see without seeing, and to hear without hearing. I do it often, and not only with Tolstoy.

Like all communication there are degrees to which we hear the stories of Scripture, the words of Christ. There are levels of interest, concentration, and understanding. Like all metaphors there are levels in seeing, layers to uncover, depths that call for attentiveness. Jesus’s parables, conversations, and descriptions of reality ring in ears on many wavelengths. We can hear them as moral fables, abstract stories, truthful similes and images, great and awful mysteries at which we do well to pay attention, words we must try our hardest to ignore. Like the Pharisees who fumed as Jesus told the parable of the tenants, we might even recognize ourselves in the storyline. It is how we react to these mirrored images that are of significance.

What does it take to look into a mirror and walk away as if completely forgetting what you have seen? I suspect, as with my less than half-hearted reading, not much. When the Pharisees saw themselves in the words of Jesus’s parable, they were furious. Wholeheartedly, they began scheming a strategy to silence him. Ironically, they were plotting to do exactly what the parable said they would do.

Christianity describes our world with a wealth of detail. But more than a system whereby we believe certain information and thus call ourselves Christians, it is a transforming way; it is intended to be life itself. If we merely hear God’s words, or half-see reflections of truth, we actually miss everything. Such a response cannot even be called half-hearted. Like the pages I have read mindlessly—lifelessly—in seeing we have seen nothing, hearing we have heard nothing. As one writer describes this common self-deception, “[I]f any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are like those who look at themselves in a mirror; for they look at themselves and, on going away, immediately forget what they were like” (James 1:22-24).

As when the Pharisees saw themselves in Jesus’s words, so our own reflections wait to be noticed in his words. A response is inescapable; we will hear and live into a new story, or we will walk away as if never hearing.

Upon Jesus’s telling of the parable of the tenants, his hearers walk away from the mirror holding only vacant memories. Though they saw themselves in the story, they walked away from this knowledge. Furthermore, Mark recounts, “Then they looked for a way to arrest him because they knew he had spoken the parable against them. But they were afraid of the crowd; so they left him and went away” (Mark 12:12).

In seeing will you see? In hearing will you hear?

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

Morning    “Blessed be God, which hath not turned away my prayer.”    Psalm 66:20

In looking back upon the character of our prayers, if we do it honestly, we

shall be filled with wonder that God has ever answered them. There may be some

who think their prayers worthy of acceptance–as the Pharisee did; but the true

Christian, in a more enlightened retrospect, weeps over his prayers, and if he

could retrace his steps he would desire to pray more earnestly. Remember,

Christian, how cold thy prayers have been. When in thy closet thou shouldst have

wrestled as Jacob did; but instead thereof, thy petitions have been faint and

few–far removed from that humble, believing, persevering faith, which cries, “I

will not let thee go except thou bless me.” Yet, wonderful to say, God

has heard these cold prayers of thine, and not only heard, but answered them.

Reflect also, how infrequent have been thy prayers, unless thou hast been in

trouble, and then thou hast gone often to the mercy-seat: but when deliverance

has come, where has been thy constant supplication? Yet, notwithstanding thou

hast ceased to pray as once thou didst, God has not ceased to bless. When thou

hast neglected the mercy-seat, God has not deserted it, but the bright light of

the Shekinah has always been visible between the wings of the cherubim. Oh! it

is marvellous that the Lord should regard those intermittent spasms of

importunity which come and go with our necessities. What a God is he thus to

hear the prayers of those who come to him when they have pressing wants, but

neglect him when they have received a mercy; who approach him when they are

forced to come, but who almost forget to address him when mercies are plentiful

and sorrows are few. Let his gracious kindness in hearing such prayers touch our

hearts, so that we may henceforth be found “Praying always with all prayer and

supplication in the Spirit.”

Evening    “Only let your conversation be as it becometh the gospel of Christ.”   Philippians 1:27

The word “conversation” does not merely mean our talk and converse with one

another, but the whole course of our life and behaviour in the world. The Greek

word signifies the actions and the privileges of citizenship: and thus we are

commanded to let our actions, as citizens of the New Jerusalem, be such as

becometh the gospel of Christ. What sort of conversation is this? In the first

place, the gospel is very simple. So Christians should be simple and plain in

their habits. There should be about our manner, our speech, our dress, our whole

behaviour, that simplicity which is the very soul of beauty. The gospel is

pre-eminently true, it is gold without dross; and the Christian’s life will

be lustreless and valueless without the jewel of truth. The gospel is a very

fearless gospel, it boldly proclaims the truth, whether men like it or not: we

must be equally faithful and unflinching. But the gospel is also very gentle.

Mark this spirit in its Founder: “a bruised reed he will not break.” Some

professors are sharper than a thorn-hedge; such men are not like Jesus. Let us

seek to win others by the gentleness of our words and acts. The gospel is very

loving. It is the message of the God of love to a lost and fallen race. Christ’s

last command to his disciples was, “Love one another.” O for more real, hearty

union and love to all the saints; for more tender compassion towards the

souls of the worst and vilest of men! We must not forget that the gospel of

Christ is holy. It never excuses sin: it pardons it, but only through an

atonement. If our life is to resemble the gospel, we must shun, not merely the

grosser vices, but everything that would hinder our perfect conformity to

Christ. For his sake, for our own sakes, and for the sakes of others, we must

strive day by day to let our conversation be more in accordance with his gospel.

You have not bought me sweet cane with money.   Isaiah 43:24

Worshipers at the temple were keen to bring presents of sweet perfumes to be burned upon the altar of God. But Israel, in the time of her backsliding, became ungenerous and made fewer offerings to her Lord. This was an evidence of coldness of heart toward God and His house.

Reader, does this never happen with you? Is it not possible that the complaint of this text may occasionally, if not frequently, be brought against you? Those who are poor in pocket, if rich in faith, will be accepted even though their gifts are small; but, poor reader, do you give in fair proportion to the Lord, or is the widow’s mite kept back from the sacred treasury? The rich believer should be thankful for the wealth entrusted to him but should not forget his large responsibility, for where much is given, much will be required.

But, rich reader, are you mindful of your obligations, and is your giving to the Lord proportionate to the benefit you enjoy? Jesus gave His blood for us; what shall we give to Him? We are His, and He has purchased us for Himself—can we act as if we were our own? O for more consecration! O for more love! Blessed Jesus, how good it is of You to accept our sweet cane bought with money! Nothing is too costly as a tribute to Your unrivaled love, and yet You receive with favor the smallest sincere token of affection! You receive our poor forget-me-nots and love-tokens as though they were intrinsically precious, though indeed they are but as the bunch of wild flowers that the child brings to his mother.

Let us never grow stingy toward You, and from this hour may we never hear You complain of us again for withholding the gifts of our love. We will give You the firstfruits of our increase and pay You tithes of all, and then we will confess, “of your own have we given you.”1

11 Chronicles 29:14

The family reading plan for May 23, 2012

Isaiah 24 | 1 John 2

Galatians 6:1-5

The Lord doesn’t want the members of His body to live in isolation; believers are intended to function as a loving family who actively care for each other. One of our responsibilities as part of God’s household is to come alongside a brother or sister who has stumbled. Paul specifies that those “who are spiritual” are to restore the fallen ones to fellowship with the Father and the family. “Spiritual” doesn’t mean some elite group of pious leaders; it refers to any Christians who are living under the Spirit’s control. A key element in this process is the attitude of the one who seeks to restore a fellow Christian.

A Spirit of Gentleness: This isn’t a time for harshness, anger, judgment, or condemnation. Our goal is not to heap pain and guilt upon a hurting brother or sister but to show mercy and forgiveness (2 Cor. 2:5-8).

A Spirit of Humility: Those who have a superior attitude look down on a fallen brother and think, I would never make those mistakes. But the humble know their own vulnerability. Instead of judging others, they examine their own lives in order to recognize and deal with areas of weakness.

A Spirit of Love: When we love others, we’ll willingly sharing their burden. This requires an unselfish investment of our time, energy, and prayer on their behalf.

How do you react when a fellow Christian has stumbled? One of the ugliest human traits is our tendency to feel better about ourselves when another person misses the mark. Instead of sharing the latest gossip about a fallen brother or sister, let your heart break, and come alongside to love and help.

For most of us, the act of remembering or revisiting a memory takes us back into the distant past. We remember people, events, cherished locales and details from days long gone. Of course, not all memories are pleasant, and traveling toward the distant past can also resemble something more like a nightmare than a nostalgic trip down memory lane. Nevertheless, even if we have but a few, all of us have cherished memories or times we periodically revisit in daydreams and remembrances.

Nostalgia is one such way of revisiting these times. It can be defined as that bittersweet yearning for things in the past. The hunger it creates in us to return to another time and place lures us away from living in the realities of the present. Nostalgia wears a shade of rose-colored glasses as it envisions days that were always sweeter, richer, and better than the present day. In general, as Frederick Buechner has said, nostalgia takes us “on an excursion from the living present back into the dead past…” or else it summons “the dead past back into the living present.”(1) In either case, nostalgic remembering removes us from the present and tempts us to dwell in the unlivable past. Without finding ways to remember forward—to bring the past as the good, the bad, and the ugly into the present in a way that informs who we are and how we will live here and now—all we are left with is nostalgia.

It is far from a sense of nostalgia that drives the writer of Psalm 78. Instead, the psalmist recalls the history of Israel as a means of remembering forward, bringing the full reality of the past into a place of honest remembrance not just for the present generation, but for the sake of generations to come. The psalmist exhorts the people to listen and incline their ears to the stories of their collective history; the Exodus, the wilderness wanderings, and the entry into the land of promise in which they currently dwell. “We will not conceal them from their children, but tell to the generation to come the praises of the Lord, and his strength and his wondrous works that he has done….That the generation to come might know, even the children yet to be born, that they may arise and tell them to their children, that they should put their confidence in God, and not forget the works of God, but keep the commandments” (Psalm 78:4-7).

Despite bearing witness to the work of God among them, the people of Israel forgot these crucial aspects of their historical narrative. In so doing, they did not keep the covenant and began to live in ways that went contrary to all that defined them. They forgot the deeds and miraculous signs which bore witness to God’s presence. Moreover, they lost faith and did not trust in God’s salvation. The psalmist acknowledges that they all “grieved God in the desert.” There are no rose-colored remembrances here, no bittersweet yearnings to which they can return. Rather, the darker parts of their story are remembered even as praise is offered up for God’s long-suffering and loving-kindness. The psalmist urges the people to think about this God in the midst of their present circumstances. What had God done among them in the past in spite of their own failings? And how might they now live in light of that past?

Perhaps it is this collective remembering Jesus has in mind when he instructs those closest to him to remember. Jesus instructs his followers during that last supper together saying “this is my body which is given for you; do this in remembrance of me” he is not calling them to bittersweet yearnings, or simply to remember events lived long ago (Luke 22:19). Rather, he calls them to remember in a way that would shape their living in the present, and for the future. Surely these intimate friends of Jesus could not have understood fully all that was implied in his call to remember him. Yet, they became his witnesses “in Jerusalem, Judea and Samaria and to the uttermost parts of the earth” (Acts 1:8). Remembering the death and resurrection of Jesus, was not just a fact they rehearsed, but a lived reality that gave contour and context for their generation, and for generations to come.

In the face of an uncertain future, or perhaps a painful present, we might be tempted to dwell in a nostalgic remembering. We might wish for the comfort of selective memories. Yet, for those who want to follow Jesus we have the opportunity to ask ourselves how we are remembering forward? What stories do our lives tell? How do our lives enact the great narrative of salvation in our present day? As we think about the kind of remembrance that enlivens our present and gives hope for the future, we can join in the song of praise with the psalmist of old: Yes, we your people and the sheep of your pasture give thanks to you forever; to all generations we will tell of your praise!(2)

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

(1) Beyond Words: Daily Readings on the ABC’s of Faith (Harper: San Francisco, 2004), 252.
(2) Psalm 79:13.

Morning   “The Lord will perfect that which concerneth me.”   Psalm 138:8

Most manifestly the confidence which the Psalmist here expressed was a divine

confidence. He did not say, “I have grace enough to perfect that which

concerneth me–my faith is so steady that it will not stagger–my love is so

warm that it will never grow cold–my resolution is so firm that nothing can

move it”; no, his dependence was on the Lord alone. If we indulge in any

confidence which is not grounded on the Rock of Ages, our confidence is worse

than a dream, it will fall upon us, and cover us with its ruins, to our sorrow

and confusion. All that Nature spins time will unravel, to the eternal confusion

of all who are clothed therein. The Psalmist was wise, he rested upon nothing

short  of the Lord’s work. It is the Lord who has begun the good work within us; it is

he who has carried it on; and if he does not finish it, it never will be

complete. If there be one stitch in the celestial garment of our righteousness

which we are to insert ourselves, then we are lost; but this is our confidence,

the Lord who began will perfect. He has done it all, must do it all, and will do

it all. Our confidence must not be in what we have done, nor in what we have

resolved to do, but entirely in what the Lord will do. Unbelief insinuates–“You

will never be able to stand. Look at the evil of your heart, you can never

conquer sin; remember the sinful pleasures and temptations of the world

that beset you, you will be certainly allured by them and led astray.” Ah! yes,

we should indeed perish if left to our own strength. If we had alone to navigate

our frail vessels over so rough a sea, we might well give up the voyage in

despair; but, thanks be to God, he will perfect that which concerneth us, and

bring us to the desired haven. We can never be too confident when we confide in

him alone, and never too much concerned to have such a trust.

Evening   “Thou hast bought me no sweet cane with money.” Isaiah 43:24

Worshippers at the temple were wont to bring presents of sweet perfumes to be

burned upon the altar of God: but Israel, in the time of her backsliding, became

ungenerous, and made but few votive offerings to her Lord: this was an evidence

of coldness of heart towards God and his house. Reader, does this never occur

with you? Might not the complaint of the text be occasionally, if not

frequently, brought against you? Those who are poor in pocket, if rich in faith,

will be accepted none the less because their gifts are small; but, poor reader,

do you give in fair proportion to the Lord, or is the widow’s mite kept back

from the sacred treasury? The rich believer should be thankful for the

talent entrusted to him, but should not forget his large responsibility, for

where much is given much will be required; but, rich reader, are you mindful of

your obligations, and rendering to the Lord according to the benefit received?

Jesus gave his blood for us, what shall we give to him? We are his, and all that

we have, for he has purchased us unto himself–can we act as if we were our own?

O for more consecration! and to this end, O for more love! Blessed Jesus, how

good it is of thee to accept our sweet cane bought with money! nothing is too

costly as a tribute to thine unrivalled love, and yet thou dost receive with

favour the smallest sincere token of affection! Thou dost receive

our poor forget-me-nots and love-tokens as though they were intrinsically

precious, though indeed they are but as the bunch of wild flowers which the

child brings to its mother. Never may we grow niggardly towards thee, and from

this hour never may we hear thee complain of us again for withholding the gifts

of our love. We will give thee the first fruits of our increase, and pay thee

tithes of all, and then we will confess “of thine own have we given thee.”

Behold, you are beautiful, my beloved.  Song of Songs 1:16

From every angle our Well-beloved is most fair. Our various experiences are meant by our heavenly Father to provide new vantage points from which we may view the loveliness of Jesus. How friendly are our trials when they allow us a clearer view of Jesus than ordinary life could afford us! We have seen Him from the mountain peaks, and He has shone upon us as the sun in His strength; but we have seen Him also from the lions’ dens, and even there He has lost none of His loveliness. In the experience of suffering and pain, from the borders of the grave, we have turned our eyes to our soul’s spouse, and He has never been other than “beautiful.”

Many of His saints looked upon Him from the gloom of dungeons and from the martyr’s flames; yet they never uttered an ill word of Him, but died extolling His surpassing charms. To keep our gaze on the Lord Jesus is noble and pleasant employment. Is it not unspeakably delightful to view the Savior in all His works and to perceive Him matchless in each? To shift the kaleidoscope, as it were, and to find fresh combinations of matchless grace? In the manger and in eternity, on the cross and on His throne, in the garden and in His kingdom, among thieves or in the midst of cherubim, He is everywhere glorious in His beauty.

Examine carefully every little act of His life and every trait of His character, and He is as lovely in the minute as in the majestic. Judge Him as you will, you cannot censure; weigh Him as you please, and He will not be found wanting. Eternity shall not discover the shadow of a spot in our Beloved, but rather as ages revolve, His hidden glories will shine with even more inconceivable splendor, and His unutterable loveliness will continually ravish all celestial minds.

The family reading plan for May 22, 2012

Isaiah 23 | 1 John 1

How are you to respond when you experience times of rejection? Should you curl up in a dark corner and engage in self-pity? Will you withdraw from life completely and disown the people who love and accept you? No!

You are to do three specific things when you feel an intense need to belong.

1. Believe what God says about you.

Through the years, I have had a number of divorced or widowed people say to me, “I feel like a nobody.” My response to them is, “That’s not what God says about you.”

God says you are a somebody. You are so special and valuable to Him that He sent His Son to die for your sins, and He made it possible for the Holy Spirit to come and dwell within you. He did that to remind you on a daily basis that you are valuable beyond measure in His eyes.

“But I feel so all alone in the world,” someone might say.

You aren’t alone, because God is with you. He has promised to stay right by your side, regardless of what happens to you. Even if everybody you know has rejected you, God will not leave you. Be assured that you are forgiven and a full-fledged member of God’s family. In Christ, we are His children, never to be denied, rejected, or turned away from His presence.

2. Seek God’s acceptance first.

Divorce is devastating because it destroys a person’s sense of belonging. It creates an even greater need to belong, a need that isn’t felt as keenly or as deeply when a person is happily married.

A woman whose husband had recently divorced her confessed to me, “I don’t feel as if I belong anyplace anymore. My life has been ripped apart. What can I do?”

“Go to Christ,” I said. “Trust the Lord to be the One who provides for you. He alone can give you identity and supply comfort in your loneliness. Do everything obediently in service to Him, trusting Him to direct your path. Know that He will shelter you from evil, uphold you, and provide daily guidance. Depend on Him with your entire being, and surrender completely to His will.”

Is God’s acceptance of you more important than acceptance by other people? You have been given the ability and prerogative to ignore God, continue on your own way, and rebel against His desire enjoy a growing relationship with you. But why not spend time in His Word to see the deep, unconditional love He has for you? Why not give in and yield to His compassionate, fatherly embrace?

3. Recognize that God will never reject you.

Perhaps you are afraid that you might one day lose God’s acceptance and love. Nothing, my friend—absolutely nothing—can destroy your standing in Christ or diminish the love He extends to you. Not now, not ever.

When my grandson was very young, the first thing he would do when he came to my house was demand to sit on my lap. He had a sense—rightly so—that there was no other person I would rather have been with in that moment.

Friend, that’s the way God feels about you and me. He delights in being with us. He holds us tenderly. And there is no other person in the world He would rather be with. The amazing truth about our infinite God is that He is capable of expressing to us all His love and attention. In our finite minds, we can not grasp that. But in God’s great and infinite love, He can completely meet my need for belonging, just as surely as He can fully meet yours.

When you feel as if you don’t belong, come to God with a desire to sit for a while in His presence. Come with a willingness to be held, like a child, in His everlasting arms. Allow yourself to relax. You are 100 percent welcome there. The Father longs for you to be with Him.

Adapted from “Our Unmet Needs” by Charles F. Stanley, 1999, pp.197-203.

For the past decade, doctors and psychologists have been taking notice of the health benefits of reflective writing. They note that wrestling with words to put your deepest thoughts into writing can lift your mind from depression, uncover wisdom within your experiences, provide insight and foster self-awareness. Similarly, a recent news article discussed the benefits of confessional writing, where one is freed to “explore the depths of the emotional junkyard.” In my own experience, writing has no doubt been a helpful way to sift through the junkyard, though perhaps most effectively when open to being surprised by beauty and not merely reveling in the messes.

Writing is helpful because the eye of a writer seeks the transcendent—moments where the extraordinary is beheld in the ordinary, glimpses of clarity within the junkyard, beauty in a world of contrasts. When Jesus stooped over the crumbled girl at his feet and wrote something in the sand, the written word spoke more powerfully than the anger of the Pharisees and well beyond the sins of the prostitute. As singer songwriter Michael Card writes of Jesus’s scribbling, “It was a cup of cold water for a thirsty adulteress and an ice-cold drenching in the face to a group of angry Pharisees.”  Writing is a tool with which we learn to see ourselves more clearly, a catalyst for which we can learn to see thankfully beyond ourselves.

In the C.S. Lewis novel, Til We Have Faces, the main character, Orual, has taken mental notes throughout her life, carefully building what she refers to as her “case” against the gods. Finally choosing to put her case in writing, she describes each instance where she has been wronged. It is only after Orual has finished writing that she soberly recognizes her great mistake. To have heard herself making the complaint was to be answered, for she now sees the importance of uttering the speech at the center of one’s soul. She profoundly then observes that the gods used her own pen to probe the wounds. With sharpened insight Orual explains, “Til the words can be dug out of us, why should [the gods] hear the babble that we think we mean?  How can they meet us face to face til we have faces?”

There is something about writing that can introduce us to ourselves and to the image of another. Daring to utter the words at the center of our souls we may find the words leading us to truer selves. What if God could use your own pen to probe the wounds of your life? In the intimate descriptions of life recorded in the Psalms, the writers of the Psalms express loneliness, joy, even frustration with God. “What gain is there in my destruction, in my going down into the pit? Will the dust praise you? Will it proclaim your faithfulness?” (Psalm 30:9). Yet the psalmists walk away from their words with a clearer sense of reality. And, I would add, their words have been a source of encouragement to countless lives, pointing many to wisdom, to beauty and depth, to a God enthroned on high.

As Jesus stood with the girl at his feet in the middle of a group armed with stones and hatred, the Word that brought life into existence and worked the heavens with his fingers, crouched down in the sand and with his finger changed a life. Might this Word so move us also such that our own words bring us to know ourselves, the beauty and the mess, each other, and God.

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

Morning “He led them forth by the right way.” Psalm 107:7

Changeful experience often leads the anxious believer to inquire “Why is it thus

with me?” I looked for light, but lo, darkness came; for peace, but behold,

trouble. I said in my heart, my mountain standeth firm; I shall never be moved.

Lord, thou dost hide thy face, and I am troubled. It was but yesterday that I

could read my title clear; today my evidences are bedimmed, and my hopes are

clouded. Yesterday, I could climb to Pisgah’s top, and view the landscape o’er,

and rejoice with confidence in my future inheritance; today, my spirit has no

hopes, but many fears; no joys, but much distress. Is this part of God’s plan

with me? Can this be the way in which God would bring me to heaven?

Yes, it is even so. The eclipse of your faith, the darkness of your mind, the

fainting of your hope, all these things are but parts of God’s method of making

you ripe for the great inheritance upon which you shall soon enter. These trials

are for the testing and strengthening of your faith–they are waves that wash

you further upon the rock–they are winds which waft your ship the more swiftly

towards the desired haven. According to David’s words, so it might be said of

you, “So he bringeth them to their desired haven.” By honour and dishonour, by

evil report and by good report, by plenty and by poverty, by joy and by

distress, by persecution and by peace, by all these things is the life

of your souls maintained, and by each of these are you helped on your way. Oh,

think not, believer, that your sorrows are out of God’s plan; they are necessary

parts of it. “We must, through much tribulation, enter the kingdom.” Learn,

then, even to “count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations.”

“O let my trembling soul be still,

And wait thy wise, thy holy will!

I cannot, Lord, thy purpose see,

Yet all is well since ruled by thee.”

Evening “Behold, thou art fair, my Beloved.” Song of Solomon 1:16

From every point our Well-beloved is most fair. Our various experiences are

meant by our heavenly Father to furnish fresh standpoints from which we may view

the loveliness of Jesus; how amiable are our trials when they carry us aloft

where we may gain clearer views of Jesus than ordinary life could afford us! We

have seen him from the top of Amana, from the top of Shenir and Hermon, and he

has shone upon us as the sun in his strength; but we have seen him also “from

the lions’ dens, from the mountains of the leopards,” and he has lost none of

his loveliness. From the languishing of a sick bed, from the borders of the

grave, have we turned our eyes to our soul’s spouse, and he has never been

otherwise than “all fair.” Many of his saints have looked upon him from the

gloom of dungeons, and from the red flames of the stake, yet have they never

uttered an ill word of him, but have died extolling his surpassing charms. Oh,

noble and pleasant employment to be forever gazing at our sweet Lord Jesus! Is

it not unspeakably delightful to view the Saviour in all his offices, and to

perceive him matchless in each?–to shift the kaleidoscope, as it were, and to

find fresh combinations of peerless graces? In the manger and in eternity, on

the cross and on his throne, in the garden and in his kingdom, among thieves or

in the midst of cherubim, he is everywhere “altogether lovely.” Examine

carefully every little act of his life, and every trait of his character, and

he is as lovely in the minute as in the majestic. Judge him as you will, you

cannot censure; weigh him as you please, and he will not be found wanting.

Eternity shall not discover the shadow of a spot in our Beloved, but rather, as

ages revolve, his hidden glories shall shine forth with yet more inconceivable

splendour, and his unutterable loveliness shall more and more ravish all

celestial minds.

There is grain for sale in Egypt.   Genesis 42:2

Famine pinched all the nations, and it seemed inevitable that Jacob and his family should suffer great want; but the God of providence, who never forgets the objects of electing love, had stored a granary for His people by giving the Egyptians warning of the scarcity and leading them to treasure up the grain from the years of plenty. Little did Jacob expect deliverance from Egypt, but there was grain in store for him.

Believer, though all things are apparently against you, rest assured that God has made a reservation on your behalf; in the roll of your griefs there is a saving clause. Somehow He will deliver you, and somewhere He will provide for you. Your rescue may come from a very unexpected source, but help will definitely come in your extremity, and you will magnify the name of the Lord. If men do not feed you, ravens will; and if the earth does not yield wheat, heaven will drop manna.

Therefore be of good courage, and rest quietly in the Lord. God can make the sun rise in the west if He pleases and can make the source of distress a channel of delight. The grain in Egypt was all in the hands of the beloved Joseph; he opened or closed the granaries at will. And so the riches of providence are all in the absolute power of our Lord Jesus, who will dispense them generously to His people. Joseph was abundantly ready to help his own family; and Jesus is unceasing in His faithful care for His brethren.

Our responsibility is to go after the help that is provided for us: We must not sit still in despondency, but stir ourselves. Prayer will bring us quickly into the presence of our royal Brother. Once before His throne we have only to ask and receive. His stores are not exhausted; there is still grain: His heart is not hard; He will give the grain to us. Lord, forgive our unbelief, and this evening constrain us to draw largely from Your fullness and receive grace for grace.

The family reading plan for May 21, 2012

Isaiah 22 | 2 Peter 3

Romans 12:2

Today’s verse outlines the commitment and steps necessary in developing a godly lifestyle. Paul was urgently warning believers not to be conformed to the world. Our susceptibility to compromise is one of the greatest dangers in the church today.

Through ungodly relationships and the impact of media, we’re being influenced by people who are not following God’s ways. Our society tells us to to put self first, take what we want, protect our rights, and promote our own interests above others’. In contrast, Jesus said that our heavenly Father will provide what we truly need (Phil. 4:19), we are to deny self and follow Him (Luke 9:23), and the humble–not the proud–shall receive honor (James 4:10). Conformity to the world’s ideals will lead us away from God.

At the same time, Paul urged us to pursue godly transformation of our minds: to set our thoughts on things above (Col. 3:2) and to focus on what is true, right, pure, and admirable (Phil. 4:8). Adopting a Christian worldview will lead to Christlike actions. It requires making adjustments in how we view life until our thoughts line up with Scripture. We must also protect our minds with biblical truth and surround ourselves with mature believers who can warn us when we start to stray.

Ask yourself, Am I focusing on what is important to the Lord?…avoiding compromise?…making a conscious effort to adhere to biblical truth?… demonstrating a pattern of godly transformation? Let God’s Holy Spirit empower you to make the changes necessary to be more like Christ.

Some time ago my wife, Margie, returned from an errand visibly shaken by a heartrending conversation she had experienced. She was about the very simple task of selecting a picture and a frame when a dialogue began with the owner of the shop. When Margie said that she would like a scene with children in it the woman quite casually asked if the people for whom the picture was being purchased had any children of their own. “No,” replied my wife, “but that is not by their choice.” There was a momentary pause. Suddenly, like a hydrant uncorked, a question burst with unveiled hostility from the other woman’s lips: “Have you ever lost a child?” Margie was somewhat taken aback and immediately sensed that a terrible tragedy probably lurked behind the abrupt question.

The conversation had obviously taken an unsettling turn. But even at that she was not prepared for the flood of emotion and anger that was yet to follow, from this one who was still a stranger. The sorry tale quickly unfolded. The woman proceeded to speak of the two children she had lost, each loss carrying a heartache all its own. “Now,” she added, “I am standing by watching my sister as she is about to lose her child.” There was no masking of her bitterness and no hesitancy about where to ascribe the blame for these tragedies. Unable to utter anything that would alleviate the pain of this gaping wound in the woman’s heart, my wife began to say, “I am sorry,” when she was interrupted with a stern rebuke, “Don’t say anything!”  She finally managed to be heard just long enough to say in parting, “I’ll be praying for you through this difficult time.” But even that brought a crisp rejoinder, “Don’t bother.”

Margie returned to her car and just wept out of shock and longing to reach out to this broken life. Even more, ever since that conversation she has carried with her an unshakable mental picture of a woman’s face whose every muscle contorted with anger and anguish—at once seeking a touch yet holding back, yearning for consolation but silencing anyone who sought to help, shoving at people along the way to get to God. Strangely, this episode spawned a friendship and we have had the wonderful privilege of getting close to her and of praying with her in our home. We have even felt her embrace of gratitude as she has tried in numerous ways to say, “Thank you.” But through this all she has represented to us a symbol of smothered cries, genuine and well thought through, and of a search for answers that need time before that anger is overcome by trust, and anguish gives way to contentment.

Of all the stories in the Scriptures, none so reflects those varied needs as the story of the woman at the well in her conversation with Jesus. In the fourth chapter of John’s Gospel we read of the encounter Jesus had with the Samaritan woman.  The disciples had left him to get a little rest while they went into town to buy some food.  When they returned they were astounded to see him talking to this Samaritan woman, but they were afraid to ask why he would talk to her or to question what prompted this curious familiarity.

The woman represented all that was oppressed or rejected in that society. She was a woman, not a man. She was a Samaritan burdened with ethnic rejection. She was discarded and broken from five failed marriages. She identified God with a particular location, not having the faintest clue how to reach this God. Was it possible to have any less self-esteem than in her fragmented world? Jesus began his tender yet determined task to dislodge her from the well-doctored and cosmetically dressed-up theological jargon she threw at him, so that she could voice the real cry of her heart.  Almost like peeling off the layers of an onion, he steadily moved her away from her own fears and prejudices, from her own schemes for self-preservation, from her own ploys for hiding her hurts, to the radiant and thrilling source of her greatest fulfillment, Christ himself. In short, he moved her from the abstract to the concrete, from the concrete to the proximate, from the proximate to the personal. She had come to find water for the thirst of her body. He fulfilled a greater thirst, that of her soul.

In the Psalms, David described himself as one wounded and crying in his bed at night. This same David spoke of the happiness that came when he took his cry to the Lord. With that same confidence, let us begin our journey to respond to the cries of the heart. We might be surprised to know how much bottled-up sentiment will be uncovered. When God speaks we will not respond by saying, “Don’t say a thing;” rather, we will be soothed by God’s touch and will rest in God’s comfort, knowing that God has bothered to hear our cries and to come near in our need.

Ravi Zacharias is founder and chairman of the board of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries.