Matthew 6:9-13

Jesus Christ gave His followers a pattern for prayer that includes seeking forgiveness daily. The invitation to regular repentance is not a means of renewing our salvation, but rather a maintenance plan for our fellowship with the Lord. When we trust Jesus as our Savior, our sins are forgiven forever. The stains from our past, present, and future wrongs are wiped from our record; however, we’re a fallen people so we do continue to commit sin.

With the exception of Jesus Christ, no person is perfect. Sin is simply a fact of human life. The Lord’s payment for our transgressions means that we can look forward to an eternity spent in God’s presence instead of getting the punishment we deserve. On this side of heaven, though, we still have to contend with our tendency to do wrong–and we must also deal with the consequences. The Lord’s admonition to seek daily forgiveness is a reminder to confess our sins and turn away from them because we are forgiven.

God’s grace is not a license to sin; instead, it’s a reason to pursue righteousness. Bad attitudes, thoughtless actions, and unkind speech do not fit who we are as children of light. We’re new creatures in Christ, bought for a price and set free to live as partakers of His grace.

Salvation makes a way for us to enter God’s presence, while regular confession and repentance keep the pathway well maintained and free of obstruction (1 John 1:9). The so-called “sinner’s prayer” need be said only once, but a saint will tap into God’s forgiveness every day of his or her life

No one wants to be left alone. Sure, we sometimes like to get away and spend some time by ourselves, but no one likes to be abandoned. The fear of loneliness is one of the most powerful in human experience. Babies cry when their mothers leave the room. A teenager’s worst nightmare is having to eat lunch alone. Neglected children will often misbehave, because even punishment for them is better than feeling abandoned. And, although locked away already, many prisoners still fear being thrown in isolation. While we experience it in different ways, we all know what it is like to feel loneliness, and it is one of the most painful parts of our existence.

This feeling of abandonment is at the root of many complaints against God about the evil of the world. Why do you put up with injustice and oppression?  Have you just left us alone?  The prophet Habakkuk called out many years ago:

“How long, O LORD, must I call for help,
but you do not listen?
Or cry out to you, ‘Violence!’
but you do not save?
Why do you make me look at injustice?
Why do you tolerate wrong?
Destruction and violence are before me;
there is strife, and conflict abounds” (Habakkuk 1:2-3).

This year some good friends of mine had their first child. However, what should have been a time of great joy was immediately overshadowed by the news that he was born with a serious genetic illness. Requiring a great deal of medical care, he was unable to go home and was sent to the hospital in Toronto near where I live. I spent time visiting over a period of several months as his loving parents watched him, prayed for him, hoped for his healing. While his dad worked long days and travelled back and forth several hours from their hometown to Toronto every week, his mom hardly ever left the hospital room, often sleeping on the end of the baby’s small hospital bed. For eight long months, they watched their little one suffer. As he experienced one painful procedure after another, unable to understand the ‘what’ or the ‘why’ of his pain, his parents loved him, made tough decisions, and prayed for his life. Sadly, before his nine month birthday, his struggle ended as he died in the arms of his parents.

In the face of tragedies like this one, we want to cry out against God for not fixing things, or at least to call out and demand answers—why? But this experience reminded me again of one of the beautiful truths of Christian faith. Because, although he knew pain and suffering, that sweet baby, unlike any other person I’ve ever met, never knew what it was like to be left alone. And, the Christmas season reminds us that although we do not understand the ‘what’ or the ‘why’ of all of our pain, we are not left alone either. Our God is like a father watching over his children, like a mother longing for their healing and bearing their pain as if it were her own. This God does not abandon us to our fate, but has come among us, to be one of us, to experience the very depths of our condition.

It is costly for God to be with us in this way, just as it was costly for my friends to be so close to the pain of their child. But when you love deeply, you want to be with the beloved, whatever the cost. And since we live in pain, brokenness and sin, God’s coming among us meant descending into the depths of that pain, brokenness and sin. Now, like that little one, we can be assured that we are never alone, that even when we do not understand the suffering in our lives, we do not bear it by ourselves. And even though my friends were unable to heal their child, this God promises ultimate healing and resurrection to all who will receive it. Like the angels announced, Jesus’s birth is good news of great joy for all people.

The manger and eventually the cross are the supreme reminders of God’s involvement and intimacy. When we turn to cry out in abandonment to God, we find ourselves face to face with a tortured, bloody man on a cross, in whose death we are accomplices. Before we can even utter the words, we hear him cry them first: “My God, My God why have you forsaken me?” While we rarely ever know the answer to this question—’why?’—the very fact that Jesus asked it is meaningful. It was not about information. Jesus knew more about the reasons for his suffering than most of us ever do. Information does not take away the pain anyway. However, if you believe that God has truly come to us in the person of Jesus Christ, then Jesus’s anguished cry tells us something far important about God. Jesus’s cry tells us that even in feelings of ultimate abandonment, we are not alone. The gospel message—that God has come among us—is absolutely transformative. There is no longer any place where God is not because this God has gone with us all the way. Even in the deepest moment of abandonment, we meet the one who is called ‘God With Us.’

Rachel Tulloch is a member of the speaking team at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Toronto, Canada.

Morning     “That through death he might destroy him that had the power of death.”    Hebrews 2:14

O child of God, death hath lost its sting, because the devil’s power over it is

destroyed. Then cease to fear dying. Ask grace from God the Holy Ghost, that by

an intimate knowledge and a firm belief of thy Redeemer’s death, thou mayst be

strengthened for that dread hour. Living near the cross of Calvary thou mayst

think of death with pleasure, and welcome it when it comes with intense delight.

It is sweet to die in the Lord: it is a covenant-blessing to sleep in Jesus.

Death is no longer banishment, it is a return from exile, a going home to the

many mansions where the loved ones already dwell. The distance between glorified

spirits in heaven and militant saints on earth seems great; but

it is not so. We are not far from home–a moment will bring us there. The sail

is spread; the soul is launched upon the deep. How long will be its voyage? How

many wearying winds must beat upon the sail ere it shall be reefed in the port

of peace? How long shall that soul be tossed upon the waves before it comes to

that sea which knows no storm? Listen to the answer, “Absent from the body,

present with the Lord.” Yon ship has just departed, but it is already at its

haven. It did but spread its sail and it was there. Like that ship of old, upon

the Lake of Galilee, a storm had tossed it, but Jesus said, “Peace, be still,”

and immediately it came to land. Think not that a long period

intervenes between the instant of death and the eternity of glory. When the

eyes close on earth they open in heaven. The horses of fire are not an instant

on the road. Then, O child of God, what is there for thee to fear in death,

seeing that through the death of thy Lord its curse and sting are destroyed? and

now it is but a Jacob’s ladder whose foot is in the dark grave, but its top

reaches to glory everlasting.

Evening   “Fight the Lord’s battles.”    1 Samuel 18:17

The sacramental host of God’s elect is warring still on earth, Jesus Christ

being the Captain of their salvation. He has said, “Lo! I am with you alway,

even unto the end of the world.” Hark to the shouts of war! Now let the people

of God stand fast in their ranks, and let no man’s heart fail him. It is true

that just now in England the battle is turned against us, and unless the Lord

Jesus shall lift his sword, we know not what may become of the church of God in

this land; but let us be of good courage, and play the man. There never was a

day when Protestantism seemed to tremble more in the scales than now that a

fierce effort is making to restore the Romish antichrist to his ancient seat.

We greatly want a bold voice and a strong hand to preach and publish the old

gospel for which martyrs bled and confessors died. The Saviour is, by his

Spirit, still on earth; let this cheer us. He is ever in the midst of the fight,

and therefore the battle is not doubtful. And as the conflict rages, what a

sweet satisfaction it is to know that the Lord Jesus, in his office as our great

Intercessor, is prevalently pleading for his people! O anxious gazer, look not

so much at the battle below, for there thou shalt be enshrouded in smoke, and

amazed with garments rolled in blood; but lift thine eyes yonder where the

Saviour lives and pleads, for while he intercedes, the cause of God is safe.

Let us fight as if it all depended upon us, but let us look up and know that

all depends upon him.

Now, by the lilies of Christian purity, and by the roses of the Saviour’s

atonement, by the roes and by the hinds of the field, we charge you who are

lovers of Jesus, to do valiantly in the Holy War, for truth and righteousness,

for the kingdom and crown jewels of your Master. Onward! “for the battle is not

yours but God’s.”

The words of the Amen.    Revelation 3:14

The word Amen solemnly confirms what went before, and Jesus is the great Comforter ; immutable forever is “the Amen” in all His promises. Sinner, I would comfort you with this reflection. Jesus Christ said, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”1 If you come to Him, He will say “Amen” in your soul; His promise shall be true to you. He said in the days of His flesh, “A bruised reed he will not break.”2 Poor, broken, bruised heart, if you come to Him, He will say “Amen” to you, and it will be true in your soul as in hundreds of cases in years gone by.

Christian, isn’t this very comforting to you also, that there is not a word that has come from the Savior’s lips that He has ever retracted? The words of Jesus will stand when heaven and earth pass away. If you get ahold of but half a promise, you will find it true. Watch out for those who ignore the promises and so miss much of the comfort of God’s Word.

Jesus is Yes and Amen in all His offices. He was a Priest to pardon and cleanse once; He is Amen as Priest still. He was a King to rule and reign for His people and to defend them with His mighty arm; He is an Amen King, the same still. He was a Prophet of old, to foretell good things to come; His words remain trustworthy and true—He is an Amen Prophet. He is Amen as to the merit of His blood; He is Amen as to His righteousness. That sacred robe will remain most fair and glorious when nature shall decay. He is Amen in every single title that He bears; your Husband, never seeking a divorce; your Friend, sticking closer than a brother; your Shepherd, with you in death’s dark vale; your Help and your Deliverer; your Refuge and your Strong Tower; the Vessel of your strength, your confidence, your joy, your all in all, and your Yes and Amen in everything.

1Matthew 11:28 2Matthew 12:20

The family reading plan for April 19, 2012

Ecclesiastes 6 | 2 Timothy 2

Ephesians 2:8-9

Recently I was talking with a fellow about his spiritual life. When I asked, “Are you saved?” he answered, “No, but I’m working at it.” When I pressed him, he explained that he was making some changes in his life. He had given up smoking and drinking, among other things. I knew that I should help him understand a few important principles, as his only guarantee so far was better health.

What this gentleman needed to realize was that what we do or what we give up for Jesus doesn’t amount to much. The Lord isn’t looking for people who change a few habits by sheer force of will; He’s calling people to surrender themselves to Him. The only action God expects of a “seeker” is to believe in Jesus–that He is who He says, He will do what He says, He has the authority to forgive, and He will equip His people to live a godly life. Because of those convictions, a new Christian is empowered to turn away from his old life–in other words, to repent–and begin the process of becoming “a new creation” (2 Cor. 5:17).

We don’t evolve into a saved people by deleting old habits and instituting better religious ones; we are transformed by the saving power of Jesus Christ when we believe in Him.

Since salvation isn’t something we earn, no one can boast before God. All of our moral living, good deeds, and strenuous efforts to change bad habits amount to a pile of trash compared to the holiness of Jesus Christ (Isa. 64:6). Only His righteousness can cover our sins and make us right before the Fathe

History has a way of provoking life’s most basic questions, sometimes with deadly force. Standing beside ruins and devastation, newscasters daily relay horrors. As harsh realities take hold, the irrepressible “why?” often surfaces in the mind of the beholder. Occasionally, even international conscience is so aroused as to ask “why?”

Yet in reality, the question of “why?” in a violent act, as painful as such a mindless atrocity can be, is nevertheless meaningless to raise unless we also ask the question of life itself—why are we here? But alas! that question is dismissed as no longer relevant in an academically sophisticated culture. Is this not, then, a self-destructive contradiction for one who debunks the notion of objective morality? Those who reduce the world to merely the physical cheat when they stray into the metaphysical.

In stark distinction, it is here once again that God beckons with his pleas to a morally deaf world. Granted, the questions raised come from two groups. The deep and private pain of those for whom the loss is personal and devastating cannot be simplistically addressed. For them there is one who speaks from a cross. But there is another side to this query, and that is in understanding how and why hatred and murder can be conceived and nurtured in the human heart in the first place.

Interestingly enough, the very first murder in the Bible did not occur because of two irreconcilable political theories. The murder of a man by his own brother was an act unmistakably borne out of their differing responses to God. Trapped by the temporal, Cain was deluded by the belief that he could vanquish spiritual reality with brute force. God saw the inevitable result of the jealousy and hatred deep within Cain’s heart, and in a challenge that would determine his destiny, warned him to deal with it. “If you do what is right, will you not be accepted? But if you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at the door; it desires to have you, but you must master it” (Genesis 4:7).

There are only two options: either come to God on his terms and find our perfect peace in his acceptance of us, or play God with self-defining morality and kill—becoming as a result restless wanderers, ever running from the voice of our brothers’ blood that cries out from the ground. At its core life is sacred and of inestimable value, whether it is the life of a darling child in the fresh blossom of childhood, or the life of an elderly, weak, and frail recluse. Both have one thing in common: they are made in the image of God. That is why murder is described in Scripture for what it is, an attack upon God’s image—a denial of our spiritual essence. It is that essence which gives us our dignity and our worth. It is that essence which is our glory and true home.

We may try by intellectual duplicity to rearrange the furniture of life and define it only in material terms, but each time we sit back and read of the human experience in Darfur or Virginia, Bosnia or Rwanda, we shift and turn with revulsion, realizing that there is no harmony in the secular “decor,” for the cry within of the sacred cannot be suppressed. That is the reason we scream forth “why?” at the headlines: we cannot silence the still, small voice inside that speaks of the intrinsic sanctity of life, and that it ought not to be violated.

Try as we will, the logical outworking of a denied absolute cannot be escaped. God said it to Cain then and God says it to us now. “If you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at the door, and desires to have you.” Cain became a murderer because he willfully refused to worship the living God and chose, by violence, to enthrone himself. This is an aspect of modern society we have grossly underestimated, and in the process we have robbed ourselves of even common sense. God is not only the Creator who defines us philosophically, but God is also the Provider who meets us existentially in our greatest need and gives us the confidence and comfort that we are beloved and not orphaned in this world.

If we are to ever find an answer to the haunting problem of violence, there will need to be a radical shift in our understanding. We must recognize not only the seen, but also the reality of the unseen, for the latter precedes the former. We would do well to take note that long before headlines hit like explosives in our minds, an even greater implosion takes place in the minds and hearts of those who set the news in motion. Human rule cannot deal with that internal devastation, but God can. That “unseen” war is a spiritual struggle—the choice between turning to God or playing God. For that triumph only God is big enough, and the sooner we realize and acknowledge our need the closer we will be to moving from the symptomatic rearranging of furniture to the cure of coming home.

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

Morning    “Behold, the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom.”    Matthew 27:51

No mean miracle was wrought in the rending of so strong and thick a veil; but it

was not intended merely as a display of power–many lessons were herein taught

us. The old law of ordinances was put away, and like a worn-out vesture, rent

and laid aside. When Jesus died, the sacrifices were all finished, because all

fulfilled in him, and therefore the place of their presentation was marked with

an evident token of decay. That rent also revealed all the hidden things of the

old dispensation: the mercy-seat could now be seen, and the glory of God gleamed

forth above it. By the death of our Lord Jesus we have a clear revelation of

God, for he was “not as Moses, who put a veil over his face.”

Life and immortality are now brought to light, and things which have been

hidden since the foundation of the world are manifest in him. The annual

ceremony of atonement was thus abolished. The atoning blood which was once every

year sprinkled within the veil, was now offered once for all by the great High

Priest, and therefore the place of the symbolical rite was broken up. No blood

of bullocks or of lambs is needed now, for Jesus has entered within the veil

with his own blood. Hence access to God is now permitted, and is the privilege

of every believer in Christ Jesus. There is no small space laid open through

which we may peer at the mercy-seat, but the rent reaches from the top to the

bottom. We may come with boldness to the throne of the heavenly grace. Shall we

err if we say that the opening of the Holy of Holies in this marvellous manner

by our Lord’s expiring cry was the type of the opening of the gates of paradise

to all the saints by virtue of the Passion? Our bleeding Lord hath the key of

heaven; he openeth and no man shutteth; let us enter in with him into the

heavenly places, and sit with him there till our common enemies shall be made

his footstool.

Evening    “The Amen.”     Revelation 3:14

The word Amen solemnly confirms that which went before; and Jesus is the great

Confirmer; immutable, forever is “the Amen” in all his promises. Sinner, I would

comfort thee with this reflection. Jesus Christ said, “Come unto me all ye that

labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” If you come to him, he

will say “Amen” in your soul; his promise shall be true to you. He said in the

days of his flesh, “The bruised reed I will not break.” O thou poor, broken,

bruised heart, if thou comest to him, he will say “Amen” to thee, and that shall

be true in thy soul as in hundreds of cases in bygone years. Christian, is not

this very comforting to thee also, that there is not a word which

has gone out of the Saviour’s lips which he has ever retracted? The words of

Jesus shall stand when heaven and earth shall pass away. If thou gettest a hold

of but half a promise, thou shalt find it true. Beware of him who is called

“Clip-promise,” who will destroy much of the comfort of God’s word.

Jesus is Yea and Amen in all his offices. He was a Priest to pardon and cleanse

once, he is Amen as Priest still. He was a King to rule and reign for his

people, and to defend them with his mighty arm, he is an Amen King, the same

still. He was a Prophet of old, to foretell good things to come, his lips are

most sweet, and drop with honey still–he is an Amen Prophet. He is Amen as to

the merit of his blood; he is Amen as to his righteousness. That sacred robe

shall remain most fair and glorious when nature shall decay. He is Amen in every

single title which he bears; your Husband, never seeking a divorce; your Friend,

sticking closer than a brother; your Shepherd, with you in death’s dark

vale; your Help and your Deliverer; your Castle and your High Tower; the Horn

of your strength, your confidence, your joy, your all in all, and your Yea and

Amen in all.

But you said, I will surely do you good.   Genesis 32:12

When Jacob was on the other side of the brook Jabbok, and Esau was coming with armed men, Jacob earnestly sought God’s protection, and the ground of his appeal was this: “But you said, I will surely do you good.” What force is in that plea! He was holding God to His word—”You said.”

The attribute of God’s faithfulness is a splendid horn of the altar to lay hold upon; but the promise, which contains the attribute and something more, is mightier still—”You said, I will surely do you good.” Would He say it and then not do it? “Let God be true though everyone were a liar.”1 Will He not be true? Will He not keep His word? Will not every word that comes out of His lips stand fast and be fulfilled?

Solomon, at the opening of the temple, used this same mighty plea. He pleaded with God to remember the word that He had spoken to his father David and to bless that place.

When a man gives a promissory note, his honor is engaged; he signs his name, and he must honor it when the due time comes or else he loses credit. It shall never be said that God dishonors His bills. The credit of the Most High was never impeached, and never shall be. He is punctual to the second: He is never before His time, but He is never behind it. Search God’s Word through, and compare it with the experience of God’s people, and you will find the two tally from beginning to end. Many an ancient patriarch has said with Joshua, “Not one word has failed of all the good things that the LORD your God promised concerning you. All have come to pass.”2

If you have a divine promise, you need not plead it with an “if”; you may urge it with certainty. The Lord meant to fulfill the promise or He would not have given it. God does not give His words merely to keep us quiet and to keep us hopeful for a while with the intention of putting us off in the end; but when He speaks, it is because He means to do as He has said.

1Romans 3:4 2Joshua 23:14

The family reading plan for April 18, 2012

Ecclesiastes 5 | 2 Timothy 1

2 Samuel 8:1-16

David served God in many capacities–from simple shepherd boy to heroic ruler. Looking at the various stages of his life, we can see clearly how his godly devotion allowed the Lord to use him mightily.

Shepherd: David was anointed king long before commanding anything other than sheep (1 Sam. 16:1-13). Protecting the sheep was a job he took seriously, even killing a lion and a bear to do so. During those days, he learned to be strong and brave, and to take care of creatures weaker than himself. An early life of obedience to his human father taught him the humility he would later need in order to depend on God.

Psalmist: David’s writings reveal his hunger for God. He is open about issues like fear, depression, defeat, loneliness, and sorrow. By describing valley experiences and communing with the Father in the night watches, David provided us with intimate glimpses of the God he knew so well.

Commander: Starting with David’s encounter with Bathsheba, the king’s life was plagued by heartache, pain, suffering, and conflict. David had sinned greatly, but God forgave him and continued to use him. He ruled Israel for 40 years, and his people called Jerusalem the “City of David.” His restoration teaches us about the consequences of sin and the limitlessness of God’s grace.

King David served God’s purpose when he lived, and continues to do so hundreds of years later–every follower of Christ has been blessed by David’s obedience, service, and literary skill. He is a great example of what God can accomplish through us if we yield our life to Him

Dr. Gabor Maté is a controversial figure in the world of medicine. Maté, a private family practice physician for over twenty years, and the coordinator of the Palliative Care Unit at Vancouver hospital, now helps addicts as a staff physician at the infamous Portland Hotel. The Hotel is the only supervised, safe injection site in North America for IV drug users. Many of his patients, in addition to being hard-core drug addicts suffer from mental illness and HIV. For their care, nurses supervise their drug use by providing antiseptic, clean needles, water, showers and other basic services. He has written about his experiences working with addicts in his book In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts.

On first glance, many might find his work unethical. How could he assist drug users in perpetuating their addictions? In a recent interview, Maté discusses why he provides a safe space for those who are the most hopeless and helpless: “Childhood trauma is the universal template for severe addiction. These drug addicts all began life as abused children. Finally they have a place where they feel accepted and safe for the first time in their lives, so it’s a beginning of the possibility of treatment.”(1)

Maté provides what many consider a more holistic model for treating addicts because he believes their underlying emotional and psychological damage fuel their addictions. Attending to these needs—even in the midst of addiction—provides a crucial key for long-term healing. The Portland Hotel, in Maté’s view, is often the first place for which attending to the emotional and psychological needs occurs for many. “The essential point to grasp,” Maté argues, “is that in neither case are we dealing with conditions that are written in genetic stone. Therefore they are reversible. We have to ask ourselves what conditions we need to provide in order for people to develop…If you’re a gardener and your plant is not developing properly, you ask yourself what condition does that plant require? It’s the same thing with human beings.”(2)

Regardless of how one might view Maté’s unconventional treatment philosophy, his deep concern for the entire emotional landscape of these hard-core addicts should not escape notice. In addressing the deepest emotional wounds of his patients, he is able to recognize their humanity even as most of these addicts seek to destroy themselves. He is able to honor dignity and worth even as these addicts view themselves as worthless. By seeing their addiction as a symptom of a larger emotional neglect, he gets to the heart of what human beings require to thrive: to be recognized, to be known and to be loved as unique human beings.

Maté’s work came to my attention as an unusual coalescence with the Ignatian practice of the conscious examen. In this traditional Christian practice, a person simply reviews the events of the day to see where God was present. But it goes beyond factual recounting to examine feelings and desires that bring both consolation and desolation. The conscious examen invites the individual to look beyond “symptoms” of daily events to see the ways in which God was present in the deepest aspects of one’s life. All that which produces joy or sorrow are fertile places for God’s activity. Ignatius expected that God would be revealed in our consolation and our desolation because he believed that God would speak through our deepest feelings and yearnings.

This gave me great hope as I wrestled with those parts of my story that are filled with desolation. How can it be that plumbing the depths of despair could actually produce consolation? Not the kind of consolation that covers over dark feelings in an attempt to supplant them, but a consolation that emerges as a result of knowing that God can be found in the depths of my own despair? Just as Dr. Maté understands that exploring the deep wounds of emotional and physical abuse hold the key for the treatment of drug addiction, so too the possibility of discovering God in the midst of our complicated humanity.

Scholar Walter Bruggemann says it this way: “[T]he way God’s word impinges upon human history is concrete talk in particular circumstances where the large purposes of God for the human enterprise come down to particulars of hurt and healing, of despair and hope.”(3) In the same way that Dr. Maté believes the emotional and psychological story of his clients holds the key to treating their addictions, so too our deepest longings and desires, our lived experience in this world, no matter how mundane or seemingly trivial, no matter how awful and dark, no matter how joy-filled and hopeful open a door to the presence of God. Nothing is excluded from telling the story of who we are and of how God is at work in the events of our lives.

Oh God, unto whom all hearts are open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid.Oh God, you have searched me and known me….You know it all. Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I hide from your presence?

Margaret Manning is a member of the speaking and writing team at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Seattle, Washington.
(1) Terrence McNally, “Why Do People Become Addicts?” Interview with Dr. Gabor Mate, AlterNet, October 19, 2011.
(2) Ibid.
(3) Walter Brueggemann, Texts That Linger, Words That Explode (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress Press, 2000) 44, emphasis mine.

Morning     “She bound the scarlet line in the window.”     Joshua 2:21

Rahab depended for her preservation upon the promise of the spies, whom she

looked upon as the representatives of the God of Israel. Her faith was simple

and firm, but it was very obedient. To tie the scarlet line in the window was a

very trivial act in itself, but she dared not run the risk of omitting it. Come,

my soul, is there not here a lesson for thee? Hast thou been attentive to all

thy Lord’s will, even though some of his commands should seem non-essential?

Hast thou observed in his own way the two ordinances of believers’ baptism and

the Lord’s Supper? These neglected, argue much unloving disobedience in thy

heart. Be henceforth in all things blameless, even to the tying of a

thread, if that be matter of command.

This act of Rahab sets forth a yet more solemn lesson. Have I implicitly trusted

in the precious blood of Jesus? Have I tied the scarlet cord, as with a Gordian

knot in my window, so that my trust can never be removed? Or can I look out

towards the Dead Sea of my sins, or the Jerusalem of my hopes, without seeing

the blood, and seeing all things in connection with its blessed power? The

passer-by can see a cord of so conspicuous a colour, if it hangs from the

window: it will be well for me if my life makes the efficacy of the atonement

conspicuous to all onlookers. What is there to be ashamed of? Let men or devils

gaze if they will, the blood is my boast and my song. My soul, there is One

who will see that scarlet line, even when from weakness of faith thou canst not

see it thyself; Jehovah, the Avenger, will see it and pass over thee. Jericho’s

walls fell flat: Rahab’s house was on the wall, and yet it stood unmoved; my

nature is built into the wall of humanity, and yet when destruction smites the

race, I shall be secure. My soul, tie the scarlet thread in the window afresh,

and rest in peace.

Evening    “And thou saidst, I will surely do thee good.”      Genesis 32:12

When Jacob was on the other side of the brook Jabbok, and Esau was coming with

armed men, he earnestly sought God’s protection, and as a master reason he

pleaded, “And thou saidst, I will surely do thee good.” Oh, the force of that

plea! He was holding God to his word–“Thou saidst.” The attribute of God’s

faithfulness is a splendid horn of the altar to lay hold upon; but the promise,

which has in it the attribute and something more, is a yet mightier

holdfast–“Thou saidst, I will surely do thee good.” And has he said, and shall

he not do it? “Let God be true, and every man a liar.” Shall not he be true?

Shall he not keep his word? Shall not every word that cometh out of his lips

stand   fast and be fulfilled? Solomon, at the opening of the temple, used this same

mighty plea. He pleaded with God to remember the word which he had spoken to his

father David, and to bless that place. When a man gives a promissory note, his

honour is engaged; he signs his hand, and he must discharge it when the due time

comes, or else he loses credit. It shall never be said that God dishonours his

bills. The credit of the Most High never was impeached, and never shall be. He

is punctual to the moment: he never is before his time, but he never is behind

it. Search God’s word through, and compare it with the experience of God’s

people, and you shall find the two tally from the first to the last.

Many a hoary patriarch has said with Joshua, “Not one thing hath failed of all

the good things which the Lord your God spake concerning you; all are come to

pass.” If you have a divine promise, you need not plead it with an “if,” you may

urge it with certainty. The Lord meant to fulfil the promise, or he would not

have given it. God does not give his words merely to quiet us, and to keep us

hopeful for awhile with the intention of putting us off at last; but when he

speaks, it is because he means to do as he has said.

We wish to see Jesus.  John 12:21

The constant cry of the world is, “Who will show us any good?” They seek satisfaction in earthly comforts, enjoyments, and riches. But the quickened sinner knows of only one good. “I wish I knew where I might find Him!” When he is truly awakened to feel his guilt, if you could lay a fortune before him he would say, “Take it away: I want to find Him.”

It is a blessed thing for a man when he has brought his desires into focus, so that they all center in one object. When he has fifty different desires, his heart resembles a stagnant pool spreading out into a marsh, breeding disease; but when all his desires are channeled in one direction, his heart becomes like a river of pure water, running swiftly to fertilize the fields.

Happy is he who has one desire, if that one desire is set on Christ, though it may not yet have been realized. When a soul desires Jesus, it is a sure indication of divine work within. Such a man will never be content with mere externals. He will say, “I want Christ; I must have Him—mere ordinances are of no use to me. I want Himself; do not offer me these; you offer me the empty pitcher, while I am dying of thirst; give me water or I die. Jesus is my soul’s desire. I wish to see Jesus!”

Is this your condition, my reader, at this moment? Have you only one desire, and is that for Christ? Then you are not far from the kingdom of heaven. Have you only one wish in your heart, and is it that you may be washed from all your sins in Jesus’ blood? Can you really say, “I would give all I have to be a Christian. I would give up everything I have and hope for, in order to know that I have an interest in Christ”? Then, despite all your fears, be encouraged—the Lord loves you, and you will come out into daylight soon and rejoice in the liberty with which Christ makes you free.

The family reading plan for April 17, 2012

Ecclesiastes 4 | 1 Timothy 6

1 Samuel 16:6-13

What do you live for each day? A pay raise? Retirement? Then perhaps you’ve discovered the reality that basing aspirations on getting ahead in this world typically ends in disappointment. People with a misguided sense of direction often wonder why they feel unfulfilled.

Maybe you’ve already realized a goal of saving for the future or moving up the corporate ladder. You give to charity and volunteer at church, but somehow still feel a sense of insignificance or aimlessness. If so, there is a truth you need to hear: God gives each of us life for a very specific reason: to serve Him. Nobody finds inner peace without reconciling this fact. Our society teaches us that pleasure, prosperity, position, and popularity will make us happy–but living in the service of self always leaves an emptiness no earthly reward can fill.

Besides, worldly philosophy won’t stand the test of time. Few of us are going to live even 100 years. So whatever we’ll become in this life, we’re in the process of becoming that right now. Consider David: he was anointed king long before actually assuming the role (1 Sam. 16:12). He spent many years serving the purpose of God in insignificant places while developing into a great man. As his story shows, discovering God’s purpose for your life is the surest path to success.

Our heavenly Father’s purpose for our lives comes from His heart of love–which is perfect. None of us can foretell the great things He has in store for us, but we can trust His plan completely. Surrender to Him today and say, “Not my will, Lord, but Yours be done.”

There was a body on the cross. This was the shocking revelation of a 12 year-old seeing a crucifix for the first time. I was not used to seeing Jesus there—or any body for that matter. The many crosses in my world were empty. But here, visiting a friend’s church, in a denomination different from my own, was a scene I had never fully considered.

In my own Protestant circles I remember hearing the rationale. Holy Week did not end with Jesus on the cross. Good Friday is not the end of the story. Jesus was crucified, died, and was buried. And on the third day, he rose again. The story ends in the victory of Easter. The cross is empty because Christ is risen.

In fact, it is true, and as Paul notes, essential, that Christians worship a risen Christ. “[For] if Christ has not been raised, then our proclamation has been in vain and your faith is in vain” (1 Corinthians 15:14). Even walking through the events of Holy Week—the emotion of the Last Supper, the anguish in Gethsemane, the denials of the disciples, the interrogation of Pilate, and the lonely way to Golgotha—we are well aware that though the cross is coming, so is the empty tomb. The dark story of Good Friday will indeed be answered by the light of Easter morning.

And yet, there is scarcely a theologian I can imagine who would set aside the fathomless mystery of the crucifixion in the interest of a doctrine that “over-shadows” it. The resurrection follows the crucifixion; it does not erase it.  Though the cross has indeed taken away the sting of death, and Christ has truly borne our pain, and the burden of humanity is that we will follow him. Even Christ, who retained the scars of his own crucifixion, told his followers that they, too, would drink the cup from which he drank. The Christian, who considers himself “crucified with Christ,” will surely “take up his cross” and follow him. The good news is that Christ goes with us, even as he went before us, fully tasting humanity in a body like yours and mine.

Thus, far from being an act that undermines the victory of the resurrection, the remembrance of Jesus’s hour of suffering boldly unites us with Christ himself. For it was on the cross that Christ most intimately bound himself to humanity. It was “for this hour” that Christ himself declared that he came. Humanity is, in turn, united to him in his suffering and is near him in our own. Had there not been an actual body on the cross, such mysteries would not be substantive enough to reach us.

Author and undertaker Thomas Lynch describes a related problem as well-meaning onlookers at funerals attempt to console the grief-stricken. Lynch describes how often he hears someone tell the weeping mother or father of the child who died of leukemia or a car accident, “It’s okay, that’s not her, it’s just a shell.”(1) But the suggestion that a dead body is “just” anything, particularly in the early stages of grief, he finds more than problematic. What if, he imagines, we were to use a similar wording to describe our hope in resurrection—namely, that Christ raised “just” a body from the dead. Lynch continues, “What if, rather than crucifixion, he’d opted for suffering low self-esteem for the remission of sins? What if, rather than ‘just a shell,’ he’d raised his personality say, or The Idea of Himself? Do you think they’d have changed the calendar for that? […] Easter was a body and blood thing, no symbols, no euphemisms, no half measures.”(2)

On the cross, we find the one whose self-offering transformed all suffering and forever lifted the finality of death. On the fifty holy days of Easter that follow a dark and Good Friday, we find the very figure of God with us, a body who cried out in a loud voice in the midst of anguish, on the brink of death, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” Precisely because the cross was not empty, the coming resurrection is profoundly full.

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

(1) Thomas Lynch, The Undertaking: Life Studies from the Dismal Trade (New York: Penguin, 1997), 21.
(2) Ibid.

Morning    “Ye are come to the blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better things than that of Abel.”     Hebrews 12:24

Reader, have you come to the blood of sprinkling? The question is not whether

you have come to a knowledge of doctrine, or an observance of ceremonies, or to

a certain form of experience, but have you come to the blood of Jesus? The blood

of Jesus is the life of all vital godliness. If you have truly come to Jesus, we

know how you came–the Holy Spirit sweetly brought you there. You came to the

blood of sprinkling with no merits of your own. Guilty, lost, and helpless, you

came to take that blood, and that blood alone, as your everlasting hope. You

came to the cross of Christ, with a trembling and an aching heart; and oh! what

a precious sound it was to you to hear the voice of the blood of

Jesus! The dropping of his blood is as the music of heaven to the penitent sons

of earth. We are full of sin, but the Saviour bids us lift our eyes to him, and

as we gaze upon his streaming wounds, each drop of blood, as it falls, cries,

“It is finished; I have made an end of sin; I have brought in everlasting

righteousness.” Oh! sweet language of the precious blood of Jesus! If you have

come to that blood once, you will come to it constantly. Your life will be

“Looking unto Jesus.” Your whole conduct will be epitomized in this–“To whom

coming.” Not to whom I have come, but to whom I am always coming. If thou hast

ever come to the blood of sprinkling, thou wilt feel thy need of coming to

it every day. He who does not desire to wash in it every day, has never washed

in it at all. The believer ever feels it to be his joy and privilege that there

is still a fountain opened. Past experiences are doubtful food for Christians; a

present coming to Christ alone can give us joy and comfort. This morning let us

sprinkle our door-post fresh with blood, and then feast upon the Lamb, assured

that the destroying angel must pass us by.

Evening    “We would see Jesus.”     John 12:21

Evermore the worldling’s cry is, “Who will show us any good?” He seeks

satisfaction in earthly comforts, enjoyments, and riches. But the quickened

sinner knows of only one good. “O that I knew where I might find Him !” When he

is truly awakened to feel his guilt, if you could pour the gold of India at his

feet, he would say, “Take it away: I want to find Him.” It is a blessed thing

for a man, when he has brought his desires into a focus, so that they all centre

in one object. When he has fifty different desires, his heart resembles a mire

of stagnant water, spread out into a marsh, breeding miasma and pestilence; but

when all his desires are brought into one channel, his heart becomes like

a river of pure water, running swiftly to fertilize the fields. Happy is he who

hath one desire, if that one desire be set on Christ, though it may not yet have

been realized. If Jesus be a soul’s desire, it is a blessed sign of divine work

within. Such a man will never be content with mere ordinances. He will say, “I

want Christ; I must have him–mere ordinances are of no use to me; I want

himself; do not offer me these; you offer me the empty pitcher, while I am dying

of thirst; give me water, or I die. Jesus is my soul’s desire. I would see

Jesus!”

Is this thy condition, my reader, at this moment? Hast thou but one desire, and

is that after Christ? Then thou art not far from the kingdom of heaven. Hast

thou but one wish in thy heart, and that one wish that thou mayst be washed from

all thy sins in Jesus’ blood? Canst thou really say, “I would give all I have to

be a Christian; I would give up everything I have and hope for, if I might but

feel that I have an interest in Christ?” Then, despite all thy fears, be of good

cheer, the Lord loveth thee, and thou shalt come out into daylight soon, and

rejoice in the liberty wherewith Christ makes men free.

So his hands were steady until the going down of the sun.

Exodus 17:12

The prayer of Moses was so mighty that everything depended upon it. The petitions of Moses disconcerted the enemy more than the fighting of Joshua. Yet both were needed. In the soul’s conflict, force and fervor, decision and devotion, valor and vehemence must join their forces, and all will be well.

You must wrestle with your sin, but the major part of the wrestling must be done alone in private with God. Prayer like Moses’ holds up the token of the covenant before the Lord. The rod was the emblem of God’s working with Moses, the symbol of God’s government in Israel. Learn, praying saint, to hold up the promise and the oath of God before Him. The Lord cannot deny His own declarations. Hold up the rod of promise, and have what you seek.

Moses grew tired, and then his friends assisted him. Whenever your prayer loses vigor, let faith support one hand, and let holy hope lift up the other, and prayer seating itself upon the stone of Israel, the rock of our salvation, will persevere and prevail. Beware of growing faint in your devotion.

If Moses felt it, who can escape? It is far easier to fight with sin in public than to pray against it in private. It has been observed that while Joshua never grew weary in the fighting, Moses did grow weary in the praying; the more spiritual an exercise, the more difficult it is for flesh and blood to maintain it.

Let us cry, then, for special strength, and may the Spirit of God, who helps our weaknesses as He helped Moses, enable us like him to continue with our steady hands “until the going down of the sun,” until the evening of life is over, until we shall come to the rising of a better sun in the land where prayer is swallowed up in praise.

The family reading plan for April 16, 2012

Ecclesiastes 3 | 1 Timothy 5

Psalm 119:9-16

What is your response when you read that David was a man after God’s heart (Acts 13:2)? Many of us look up to him as a spiritual giant and think to ourselves, I could never be like that. But the Lord hasn’t reserved this title for just one man. He wants all of us to seek Him as David did. One of our problems is our tendency to focus on just part of his story. We tend to forget that the scriptural account gives a record of King David’s entire lifetime. He had to begin pursuing the Lord the same way we do–one step at a time.

A hunger for God doesn’t usually just pop up in our hearts. Most of the time, it’s something that must be cultivated. The place to begin is the Bible. That’s where we listen to the Lord as He speaks to us in His Word.

Another essential element is prayer. As you read His words, start talking to Him. If it all seems dry and meaningless, ask Him to work in your life to make Scripture come alive. He loves to answer prayers like that.

The next step is meditation. Don’t just “put in your time” so you can say you’ve read your Bible. Slow down and deliberately think about what you’ve read. What did you discover about God?

The last step is to keep at it. A hunger for God may not develop right away, but remember, you’re working for a changed heart that will last a lifetime, not a quick emotional experience. Just keep filling up with the fuel that brings transformation–the Word, prayer, and meditation

Researchers believe they have come up with a questionnaire that can measure a person’s chances of dying within the next four years. According to one of the test’s designers, it is reported to be roughly 81 percent accurate among those who are 50 years or older. Their report, which was published in the Journal of the American Medical Association, claims the assessment will be useful to doctors in offering prognostic information and to patients who want a more determined look at the future. Regardless of the questionnaire’s effectiveness, however, the headline still strikes me as ironic: “Test Helps You Predict Chances of Dying.”(1) It brings to mind the lines of Emily Dickinson, “Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me.”  We don’t need a test to tell us our chances of dying.

British statesman and avowed atheist Roy Hattersley writes in the Guardian of a recent experience at a funeral. It was a funeral, he said, which almost converted him to the belief that funeral services–of which he has disapproved for years–ought to be encouraged. His conclusion was forged as he sang the hymns and studied the proclamations of a crowd that seemed sincere: “[T]he church is so much better at staging last farewells than non-believers could ever be.”(2) He continues, “‘Death where is thy sting, grave where is thy victory?’ are stupid questions. But even those of us who do not expect salvation find a note of triumph in the burial service. There could be a godless thanksgiving for and celebration of the life of [whomever]. The music might be much the same. But it would not have the uplifting effect without the magnificent, meaningless, words.”

I had never been to a funeral until I was the seminary intern for a small rural church in Oklahoma. I had attended a visitation once and a few memorial services years earlier, but I had never watched a family move from planning to wake to service to burial, until I assisted more families through the entire funeral process than seemed possible for the tiny congregation. We had more than seven times the number of deaths as we had births in the church that year.

Something happens when you are given the opportunity to be an observer at that many funerals. The reality of the sting of death became like a running commentary on the futility of life and fleeting nature of humanity. “For who knows what is good for a man in life during the few and meaningless days he passes through like a shadow?” asks Solomon. “Surely the people are grass,” writes Isaiah. I had never been more aware of my own transience.

But there was an incredible paradox in this looming experience of death’s repetitive sting. With each new grave came the unnaturalness of the process all over again—a body at the front of the altar, a hole dug deeply, a coffin lowered. Yet as death continued to rear its ugly head in our small community and life stood futile to stop it, the words spoken over the body again and again did not become futile themselves. On the contrary, they grew all the more resounding. I came to realize that our words were not spoken to soften the blow, but rather, to affirm the offense, to acknowledge the sting of death in all of its aberrancy–and to name the one who came to reverse it, having gone through it himself.

We are the only creatures in this world who ceremoniously bury their dead, who speak words over bodies, and take them all the way to the grave. Why does death never cease to seem unnatural even despite the worldview we bring to the funeral?  What is it about this spirit that will not stop, that refuses to be reconciled to loss and give death the last word?  What is it that makes us cry out to someone or someplace beyond the self?  “If only for this life we have hope in Christ,” writes Paul, “we are to be pitied more than all men” (1 Corinthians 15:19).

Hattersley concludes his observations with a comment of which he himself has perhaps not plumbed the depths: “Dull would he be of soul (or the humanist equivalent) who is not moved to tears by the exhortation, ‘He died to make us holy, let us live to make men free.'”(3) Such were the final lines the statesman uttered without meaning at the funeral that moved him.

What if the inherent logic that brings us to the graveside with words and longing hints of a transcendent memory that life was never intended to be cut short and that death can somehow be overcome? What if the last farewell is not the final word? Indeed, what if the words we speak over our dead were never intended to be our own: I am the resurrection and the life. He who comes to me will live, even though he dies.

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

(1) “Test Helps You Predict Chances of Dying,” Forbes News Online, February 14, 2006, accessed March 10, 2012, http://forbes.com/work/feeds/ap/2006/02/14/ap2526211.html.
(2) Roy Hattersley, “A Decent Send-off,” The Guardian, January 16, 2006, accessed March 10, 2012, http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2006/jan/16/religion.uk2.
(3) Ibid.

Morning    “All they that see me laugh me to scorn: they shoot out the lip, they shake the  head.”    Psalm 22:7

Mockery was a great ingredient in our Lord’s woe. Judas mocked him in the

garden; the chief priests and scribes laughed him to scorn; Herod set him at

nought; the servants and the soldiers jeered at him, and brutally insulted him;

Pilate and his guards ridiculed his royalty; and on the tree all sorts of horrid

jests and hideous taunts were hurled at him. Ridicule is always hard to bear,

but when we are in intense pain it is so heartless, so cruel, that it cuts us to

the quick. Imagine the Saviour crucified, racked with anguish far beyond all

mortal guess, and then picture that motley multitude, all wagging their heads or

thrusting out the lip in bitterest contempt of one poor suffering

victim! Surely there must have been something more in the crucified One than

they could see, or else such a great and mingled crowd would not unanimously

have honoured him with such contempt. Was it not evil confessing, in the very

moment of its greatest apparent triumph, that after all it could do no more than

mock at that victorious goodness which was then reigning on the cross? O Jesus,

“despised and rejected of men,” how couldst thou die for men who treated thee so

ill? Herein is love amazing, love divine, yea, love beyond degree. We, too, have

despised thee in the days of our unregeneracy, and even since our new birth we

have set the world on high in our hearts, and yet thou bleedest

to heal our wounds, and diest to give us life. O that we could set thee on a

glorious high throne in all men’s hearts! We would ring out thy praises over

land and sea till men should as universally adore as once they did unanimously

reject.

“Thy creatures wrong thee, O thou sovereign Good!

Thou art not loved, because not understood:

This grieves me most, that vain pursuits beguile

Ungrateful men, regardless of thy smile.”

Evening    “Say ye to the righteous, that it shall be well with him.”   Isaiah 3:10

It is well with the righteous always. If it had said, “Say ye to the righteous,

that it is well with him in his prosperity,” we must have been thankful for so

great a boon, for prosperity is an hour of peril, and it is a gift from heaven

to be secured from its snares: or if it had been written, “It is well with him

when under persecution,” we must have been thankful for so sustaining an

assurance, for persecution is hard to bear; but when no time is mentioned, all

time is included. God’s “shalls” must be understood always in their largest

sense. From the beginning of the year to the end of the year, from the first

gathering of evening shadows until the day-star shines, in all conditions and

under all circumstances, it shall be well with the righteous. It is so well

with him that we could not imagine it to be better, for he is well fed, he feeds

upon the flesh and blood of Jesus; he is well clothed, he wears the imputed

righteousness of Christ; he is well housed, he dwells in God; he is well

married, his soul is knit in bonds of marriage union to Christ; he is well

provided for, for the Lord is his Shepherd; he is well endowed, for heaven is

his inheritance. It is well with the righteous–well upon divine authority; the

mouth of God speaks the comforting assurance. O beloved, if God declares that

all is well, ten thousand devils may declare it to be ill, but we laugh them all

to scorn. Blessed be God for a faith which enables us to believe God when the

creatures contradict him. It is, says the Word, at all times well with thee,

thou righteous one; then, beloved, if thou canst not see it, let God’s word

stand thee in stead of sight; yea, believe it on divine authority more

confidently than if thine eyes and thy feelings told it to thee. Whom God

blesses is blest indeed, and what his lip declares is truth most sure and

steadfast.

He shall lay his hand on the head of the burnt offering, and it shall be accepted for him to make atonement for him.

Leviticus 1:4

Our Lord’s being “made . . . sin”2 for us is pictured here by the very significant transfer of sin to the bullock, which was done by the elders of the people. The laying of the hand was not a mere touch of contact, for in some other places of Scripture the original word has the meaning of leaning heavily, as in the expression, “Your wrath lies heavy upon me” (Psalm 88:7).

Surely this is the very essence and nature of faith, which not only brings us into contact with the great Substitute, but also teaches us to lean upon Him with all the burden of our guilt. Jehovah made all the offenses of His covenant people rest upon the Substitute, and each one of the chosen is brought personally to confirm this solemn covenant act, when by grace he is enabled by faith to lay his hand upon the head of the Lamb that was slain before the foundation of the world.

Believer, do you remember that wonderful day when you first realized pardon through Jesus the sin-bearer? Can you make a glad confession and join with the writer in saying, “My soul recalls the day of deliverance with delight. Burdened with guilt and full of fears, I saw my Savior as my Substitute, and I laid my hand upon Him—timidly at first, but courage grew and confidence was confirmed until I leaned my soul entirely upon Him. And now it is my unceasing joy to know that my sins are no longer imputed to me but are laid on Him. Like the debts of the wounded traveler, Jesus, like the good Samaritan, has said of all my future sinfulness, ‘Set that to My account.'”

Blessed discovery! Eternal solace of a grateful heart!

My numerous sins transferr’d to Him,

Shall never more be found,

Lost in His blood’s atoning stream,

Where every crime is drown’d!

22 Corinthians 5:21

The family reading plan for April 13, 2012

Proverbs 31 | 1 Timothy 2