Morning   “Thy paths drop fatness.” / Psalm 65:11

Many are “the paths of the Lord” which “drop fatness,” but an especial one is

the path of prayer. No believer, who is much in the closet, will have need to

cry, “My leanness, my leanness; woe unto me.” Starving souls live at a

distance from the mercy- seat, and become like the parched fields in times of

drought. Prevalence with God in wrestling prayer is sure to make the believer

strong–if not happy. The nearest place to the gate of heaven is the throne of

the heavenly grace. Much alone, and you will have much assurance; little alone

with Jesus, your religion will be shallow, polluted with many doubts and

fears, and not sparkling with the joy of the Lord. Since the soul-enriching

path of prayer is open to the very weakest saint; since no high attainments

are required; since you are not bidden to come because you are an advanced

saint, but freely invited if you be a saint at all; see to it, dear reader,

that you are often in the way of private devotion. Be much on your knees, for

so Elijah drew the rain upon famished Israel’s fields.

There is another especial path dropping with fatness to those who walk

therein, it is the secret walk of communion. Oh! the delights of fellowship

with Jesus! Earth hath no words which can set forth the holy calm of a soul

leaning on Jesus’ bosom. Few Christians understand it, they live in the

lowlands and seldom climb to the top of Nebo: they live in the outer court,

they enter not the holy place, they take not up the privilege of priesthood.

At a distance they see the sacrifice, but they sit not down with the priest to

eat thereof, and to enjoy the fat of the burnt offering. But, reader, sit thou

ever under the shadow of Jesus; come up to that palm tree, and take hold of

the branches thereof; let thy beloved be unto thee as the apple-tree among the

trees of the wood, and thou shalt be satisfied as with marrow and fatness. O

Jesus, visit us with thy salvation!

Evening  “Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice.” / 1 Samuel 15:22

Saul had been commanded to slay utterly all the Amalekites and their cattle.

Instead of doing so, he preserved the king, and suffered his people to take

the best of the oxen and of the sheep. When called to account for this, he

declared that he did it with a view of offering sacrifice to God; but Samuel

met him at once with the assurance that sacrifices were no excuse for an act

of direct rebellion. The sentence before us is worthy to be printed in letters

of gold, and to be hung up before the eyes of the present idolatrous

generation, who are very fond of the fineries of will-worship, but utterly

neglect the laws of God. Be it ever in your remembrance, that to keep strictly

in the path of your Saviour’s command is better than any outward form of

religion; and to hearken to his precept with an attentive ear is better than

to bring the fat of rams, or any other precious thing to lay upon his altar.

If you are failing to keep the least of Christ’s commands to his disciples, I

pray you be disobedient no longer. All the pretensions you make of attachment

to your Master, and all the devout actions which you may perform, are no

recompense for disobedience. “To obey,” even in the slightest and smallest

thing, “is better than sacrifice,” however pompous. Talk not of Gregorian

chants, sumptuous robes, incense, and banners; the first thing which God

requires of his child is obedience; and though you should give your body to be

burned, and all your goods to feed the poor, yet if you do not hearken to the

Lord’s precepts, all your formalities shall profit you nothing. It is a

blessed thing to be teachable as a little child, but it is a much more blessed

thing when one has been taught the lesson, to carry it out to the letter. How

many adorn their temples and decorate their priests, but refuse to obey the

word of the Lord! My soul, come not thou into their secret.

Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice.  1Samuel 15:22

Saul had been commanded to completely wipe out all the Amalekites and their cattle. Instead of doing so, he preserved the king and allowed his people to take the best of the oxen and of the sheep. When called to account for this, he declared that he did it with a view to offering sacrifice to God; but Samuel met him at once with the assurance that sacrifices were no excuse for an act of direct rebellion.

The sentence before us is worthy to be printed in letters of gold and to be displayed before the eyes of the present idolatrous generation, who are very fond of making a show of obedience but who utterly neglect the laws of God. Never forget that to keep strictly to the path of your Savior’s command is better than any outward form of religion; and to pay attention to His precept is better than to bring animals or other precious things to lay upon His altar.

If you are failing to keep the least of Christ’s commands to His disciples, I urge you to be disobedient no longer. All the pretensions you make of attachment to your Master and all the devout actions that you may perform are no substitute for disobedience. “To obey,” even in the slightest and smallest thing, “is better than sacrifice,” however pompous. Forget the Gregorian chants, sumptuous robes, incense, and banners; the first thing that God requires of His child is obedience; and even if you gave your body to be burned and all your goods to feed the poor, if you did not listen to the Lord’s commands, all your formalities would profit you nothing.

It is a blessed thing to be teachable as a little child, but it is a much more blessed thing, when one has been taught the lesson, to carry it out to the letter. How many adorn their temples and decorate their priests, but refuse to obey the word of the Lord! My soul, do not share in their deceit.

Family Reading Plan     Daniel 3     Psalm 107

Psalm 138:7-8

David was a man who walked through trouble on a regular basis. His psalms express the struggles and disappointments he faced, yet in the end, he always turned his focus back to God. The key to his victorious attitude was his strong faith in the Lord.

David was confident in God’s purpose. That’s why he could say, “The Lord will accomplish what concerns me” (v. 8). The only way we can walk through trouble and not be defeated is by keeping our focus on the Lord and His purpose. He has promised to do a good work in our lives, but sometimes the only way He can complete it is in valleys of hardship.

He relied on the Lord’s power. When troubles arise, we, too, can trust God to deliver us, but it may not be by escape. Sometimes He sustains us through the difficulty, walking with us every step of the way.

David believed the promises of God. Throughout these two verses, he repeatedly reminds himself what the Lord will do. We also need to have some specific promises from Scripture that will anchor us in times of trouble. The truths of the Bible are our most valuable possession when the storms of life assail us. Self-reliance or advice from others will never equal the help God’s Word offers us.

God assumes responsibility for accomplishing what concerns you in times of trouble. Your job is to believe that He will fulfill His purpose, His power is adequate, and He’ll keep every promise. When the trial has achieved His goal, He’ll remove it. Until then, keep walking with your eyes on Him.

With outstretched arms, Aaron blessed the people of Israel, putting the name of the Lord upon them: “The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the LORD lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.”(1)

These were instructions from God, who told Moses to tell Aaron to bless the people of Israel. Benediction was to be an act of worship, a response of obedience to God’s instruction given to the priestly line. “Aaron was set apart,” we read. “He and his descendants forever, to consecrate the most holy things, to offer sacrifices before the LORD, to minister before him and to pronounce blessings in his name forever.”(2) The Aaronic benediction was a command, given in order that God’s name be placed upon God’s people.

So Aaron spoke the benediction over a people frustrated and wandering, and his words reached beyond him. There are moments often unknown to us with which God does the same. Like a river whose source does not know the far places it reaches, God’s name moves before the world; we don’t always know where it has come or where it is going. Yet we know that God’s hand is not too short to save. In the desert or on the mountaintop, God’s blessing reaches those who will receive and be filled. It is this God “who calls for the waters of the sea and pours them out over the face of the land.”(3)

Aaron’s blessings on behalf of God were heard by the people, and honored by God. And this duty, done in obedience, acting in worship, was passed down amongst the descendents of Aaron. Under oath, the priestly line vowed to keep the covenant of God before his people and the hope of God’s saving name upon them. Of course, the vow of people is prone to breaking and the service of the priest short-lived.

The writer of Hebrews expounds, “Now there have been many of those priests, since death prevented them from continuing in office; but because Jesus lives forever, he has a permanent priesthood. Therefore he is able to save completelythose who come to God through him, because he always lives to intercede for them.”(4) Through Christ, a better hope was introduced, by which the Holy Spirit moves the world that we can draw near to God. For as it is written, “Such a high priest meets our need—one who is holy, blameless, pure, set apart from sinners, exalted above the heavens.” Whereas the Aaronic blessing was intermittent, Christ’s blessing is continual.

It is significant here to note Luke’s retelling of the last hours with Jesus on earth, for Christ’s departure is marked with the gesture his life epitomized. Luke writes of Jesus, “Then he led them out as far as Bethany, and lifting up his hands he blessed them.  While he blessed them, he parted from them and was carried up into heaven.  And they worshiped him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy,and were continually in the temple blessing God.”(5) Near the place where he raised Lazarus from the dead, Jesus ascended to the right hand of the Father where he remains forever the High Priest. Before he left, pointedly, he offered the benediction. Hands and arms that days before were outstretched upon the Cross were lifted once more to bless the world.

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

(1) Numbers 6:22-26.

(2) 1 Chronicles 23:13.

(3) Amos 5:8.

(4) Hebrews 7:23-25.

(5) Luke 24:50-53.

Morning   “And David said in his heart, I shall now perish one day by the hand of Saul.”   / 1 Samuel 27:1

The thought of David’s heart at this time was a false thought, because he

certainly had no ground for thinking that God’s anointing him by Samuel was

intended to be left as an empty unmeaning act. On no one occasion had the Lord

deserted his servant; he had been placed in perilous positions very often, but

not one instance had occurred in which divine interposition had not delivered

him. The trials to which he had been exposed had been varied; they had not

assumed one form only, but many–yet in every case he who sent the trial had

also graciously ordained a way of escape. David could not put his finger upon

any entry in his diary, and say of it, “Here is evidence that the Lord will

forsake me,” for the entire tenor of his past life proved the very reverse. He

should have argued from what God had done for him, that God would be his

defender still. But is it not just in the same way that we doubt God’s help?

Is it not mistrust without a cause? Have we ever had the shadow of a reason to

doubt our Father’s goodness? Have not his lovingkindnesses been marvellous?

Has he once failed to justify our trust? Ah, no! our God has not left us at

any time. We have had dark nights, but the star of love has shone forth amid

the blackness; we have been in stern conflicts, but over our head he has held

aloft the shield of our defence. We have gone through many trials, but never

to our detriment, always to our advantage; and the conclusion from our past

experience is, that he who has been with us in six troubles, will not forsake

us in the seventh. What we have known of our faithful God, proves that he will

keep us to the end. Let us not, then, reason contrary to evidence. How can we

ever be so ungenerous as to doubt our God? Lord, throw down the Jezebel of our

unbelief, and let the dogs devour it.

Evening  “He shall gather the lambs with his arm.” / Isaiah 40:11

Our good Shepherd has in his flock a variety of experiences, some are strong

in the Lord, and others are weak in faith, but he is impartial in his care for

all his sheep, and the weakest lamb is as dear to him as the most advanced of

the flock. Lambs are wont to lag behind, prone to wander, and apt to grow

weary, but from all the danger of these infirmities the Shepherd protects them

with his arm of power. He finds new-born souls, like young lambs, ready to

perish–he nourishes them till life becomes vigorous; he finds weak minds

ready to faint and die–he consoles them and renews their strength. All the

little ones he gathers, for it is not the will of our heavenly Father that one

of them should perish. What a quick eye he must have to see them all! What a

tender heart to care for them all! What a far- reaching and potent arm, to

gather them all! In his lifetime on earth he was a great gatherer of the

weaker sort, and now that he dwells in heaven, his loving heart yearns towards

the meek and contrite, the timid and feeble, the fearful and fainting here

below. How gently did he gather me to himself, to his truth, to his blood, to

his love, to his church! With what effectual grace did he compel me to come to

himself! Since my first conversion, how frequently has he restored me from my

wanderings, and once again folded me within the circle of his everlasting arm!

The best of all is, that he does it all himself personally, not delegating the

task of love, but condescending himself to rescue and preserve his most

unworthy servant. How shall I love him enough or serve him worthily? I would

fain make his name great unto the ends of the earth, but what can my

feebleness do for him? Great Shepherd, add to thy mercies this one other, a

heart to love thee more truly as I ought.

He will gather the lambs in his arms.   Isaiah 40:11

Our Good Shepherd has in His flock a variety of experiences. Some are strong in the Lord, and others are weak in faith; but He is impartial in His care for all His sheep, and the weakest lamb is as dear to Him as the strongest in the flock. Lambs are prone to lag behind, to wander, and are apt to grow weary; but from all the danger of these infirmities the Shepherd protects them with His arm of power. He finds newborn souls, like young lambs, ready to perish—He nourishes them until life becomes vigorous. He finds weak minds ready to faint and die—He consoles them and renews their strength. All the little ones He gathers, for it is not the will of our heavenly Father that one of them should perish.

What a quick eye He must have to see them all! What a tender heart to care for them all! What a far-reaching and powerful arm, to gather them all! In His lifetime on earth He was a great gatherer of the weaker sort, and now that He dwells in heaven, His loving heart extends to the meek and contrite, the timid and feeble, the fearful and fainting here below. How gently He gathered me to Himself, to His truth, to His blood, to His love, to His Church! With what effectual grace did He compel me to come to Himself!

Since my conversion, He has frequently restored me from my wanderings and once again gathered me within the circle of His everlasting arms! The best of all is that He does it all Himself. He does not delegate the task of love but condescends Himself to rescue and preserve His most unworthy servant. How will I love or serve Him enough? I long to make His name great to the ends of the earth, but what can my feebleness do for Him? Great Shepherd, add to Your mercies this humble request: Grant me a heart to love You more truly as I ought.

Family Reading Plan      Daniel 2    Psalm 106

 Luke 15:11-24

In the Parable of the Prodigal Son, the younger brother asked to receive his inheritance early so he might live as he chose. Once the father gave him his share, he made many unwise choices that led to hunger and destitution. What happened next illustrates the principles of godly repentance.

After squandering all his money, the young man found work feeding pigs, a bottom-of-the-barrel kind of job. One day he came to his senses and recognized his terrible plight. His repentance began with an awareness of his wrong choices and the fact that his bad situation was due to them.

Knowing that his difficulties came from his sinful behavior, the prodigal grieved over his mistakes and acknowledged that he had sinned against the Lord (v. 18). He declared he was no longer worthy to be his father’s son. Godly sorrow and confession led the young man to leave that place and go home. His repentance was made complete when he turned away from his old ways and returned to his father. The Lord likewise calls us to repent and return to Him.

What a welcome the prodigal son received. Upon seeing him, the father was filled with compassion and ran to embrace him. Forgiveness and acceptance were extended to the son. Both are blessings that God freely offers to whoever asks Him.

The prodigal son did not clean himself up before returning home. He simply left his old life, turned toward home, and trusted in his father’s mercy. The heavenly Father calls us to repent and offers us forgiveness when we turn away from our self-centered ways and move toward godliness (1 John 1:9).

Most of us recognize that there are forces at work in our world that make communicating more akin to communicating across cultures—even within our home countries. Twitter, texting and other forms of modern short-hand must be learned just as one would learn a new language. TTYL, LOL, and other combinations of letters are indiscernible to the tweeting and texting uninitiated.

In a similar way, trying to find ways to talk about matters of faith often feels like trying to cross a broken bridge. Even more than that, anyone who claims to present a clear language of faith speaks into a cacophony of spiritual and cultural languages. Is it any wonder, then, that blank stares are the all too often response to the particulars of the unique vocabulary of faith?

And yet, those who speak what seems to them a clear message are also informed and shaped by their own cultures. Speech embodies a whole world of language, experience, and ways of understanding that experience, which in turn shapes the way in which individuals speak about their faith.

here are, therefore, particular difficulties inherent in translation from within one’s own culture. An ancient Chinese proverb highlights this difficult task: “If you want a definition of water, don’t ask a fish.”(1) In other words, on what platform does one stand in order to speak into one’s own culture? We are products of the very culture into which we seek to communicate, and we can never completely stand outside our own culture. We are, in the words of the proverb, like fish trying to define water.

Notably, Christians affirm that the heart of the gospel message transcends culture and language, just as surely as it was originally proclaimed within a particular culture and language. After all, the good news of the gospel is about “the Word made flesh.” Missiologist Lesslie Newbigin explains the dialogical nature of the gospel as a product of culture and yet as a trans-cultural communication when he suggests: “Every statement of the gospel in words is conditioned by the culture of which those words are part, and every style of life that claims to embody the truth of the gospel is a culturally conditioned style of life. There can never be a culture-free gospel. Yet the gospel, which is from the beginning to the end embodied in culturally conditioned forms, calls into question all cultures, including the one in which it was originally embodied.”(2)

Newbigin uses the conversion and transformation of Saul into the apostle Paul as a case in point. His trial before King Agrippa, as recorded in Acts 26, illuminates this cultural dialogue. As Paul shares the story of his conversion with King Agrippa, he speaks the language of the Empire, Greek, and not his native Hebrew. Yet earlier, when he was blinded by “a light from heaven, brighter than the sun” and he heard a voice from heaven, it was not in the predominant Greek language. Paul tells Agrippa: “I heard a voice saying to me in the Hebrew dialect, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?’” Paul then asked who was speaking to him, and the voice answered, “I am Jesus whom you are persecuting.” Newbigin suggests that this passage provides a means by which we can understand the challenges and the opportunities for gospel communication and translation from within a given culture.(3)

First, just as Paul hears the as yet unnamed voice from heaven in his native tongue, the “voice” of the gospel must be offered in the language of the culture into which it is spoken. The gospel must be communicated in a way in which it can truly be heard, and we must accept that the way in which we present it will on some level embody that which is understood and experienced in a particular culture.

Truly communicating the gospel, however, means it will also call into question the way of understanding that is inherent in our own culture. Saul truly believed his actions against the Christians were in keeping with the God-ordained desire to preserve and protect Jewish identity and purity of belief. Yet, the voice from heaven revealed that this devotion of Saul was a form of persecution against the very God he claimed to serve.

Finally, while Christians must be diligent to clearly translate and communicate the gospel, ultimately conversion is the work of God. No human persuasion, no lofty speculation ever accomplishes the work of conversion. This is God’s work alone accomplished by the Holy Spirit, and those who bear witness in multiple cultural contexts can depend on the work of the Spirit to accomplish what God desires. “[I]n the mysterious providence of God, a word spoken comes with the kind of power of the word that was spoken to Saul on the road to Damascus…it causes the hearer to stop, turn around, and go in a new direction, to accept Jesus as Lord, Guide, and Savior.”(4)

The communication of the gospel into every culture is filled with challenges and opportunities. Without the work of careful translation, Christians can sound as if they are babbling in a foreign tongue. On the other hand, they may immerse themselves so much in cultural study and experience that they only seek “relevance” and lose the prophetic power of gospel proclamation. Indeed, as culture-bound people, there is always a risk of proclaiming a version of the gospel that is more cultural than Christian. Christians must always be willing to hear the radical call to conversion in their own proclamations. Yet, making room in these proclamations for the transformational work of the Spirit, there is hope that the unique message of God’s deliverance in Christ will not be lost either on the one who hears or the one who speaks.

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

(1) Cited in Lesslie Newbigin, Foolishness to the Greeks (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1986), 21

(2) Ibid., 4.

(3) Ibid., 5.

(4) Ibid., 7-8.

 Morning “Jesus saith unto them, Come and dine.” / John 21:12

 In these words the believer is invited to a holy nearness to Jesus. “Come and

dine,” implies the same table, the same meat; aye, and sometimes it means to

sit side by side, and lean our head upon the Saviour’s bosom. It is being

brought into the banqueting-house, where waves the banner of redeeming love.

“Come and dine,” gives us a vision of union with Jesus, because the only food

that we can feast upon when we dine with Jesus is himself. Oh, what union is

this! It is a depth which reason cannot fathom, that we thus feed upon Jesus.

“He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in me, and I in

him.” It is also an invitation to enjoy fellowship with the saints. Christians

may differ on a variety of points, but they have all one spiritual appetite;

and if we cannot all feel alike, we can all feed alike on the bread of life

sent down from heaven. At the table of fellowship with Jesus we are one bread

and one cup. As the loving cup goes round we pledge one another heartily

therein. Get nearer to Jesus, and you will find yourself linked more and more

in spirit to all who are like yourself, supported by the same heavenly manna.

If we were more near to Jesus we should be more near to one another. We

likewise see in these words the source of strength for every Christian. To

look at Christ is to live, but for strength to serve him you must “come and

dine.” We labour under much unnecessary weakness on account of neglecting this

precept of the Master. We none of us need to put ourselves on low diet; on the

contrary, we should fatten on the marrow and fatness of the gospel that we may

accumulate strength therein, and urge every power to its full tension in the

Master’s service. Thus, then, if you would realize nearness to Jesus, union

with Jesus, love to his people and strength from Jesus, “come and dine” with

him by faith.

Evening “With thee is the fountain of life.” / Psalm 36:9

 There are times in our spiritual experience when human counsel or sympathy, or

religious ordinances, fail to comfort or help us. Why does our gracious God

permit this? Perhaps it is because we have been living too much without him,

and he therefore takes away everything upon which we have been in the habit of

depending, that he may drive us to himself. It is a blessed thing to live at

the fountain head. While our skin- bottles are full, we are content, like

Hagar and Ishmael, to go into the wilderness; but when those are dry, nothing

will serve us but “Thou God seest me.” We are like the prodigal, we love the

swine-troughs and forget our Father’s house. Remember, we can make

swine-troughs and husks even out of the forms of religion; they are blessed

things, but we may put them in God’s place, and then they are of no value.

Anything becomes an idol when it keeps us away from God: even the brazen

serpent is to be despised as “Nehushtan,” if we worship it instead of God. The

prodigal was never safer than when he was driven to his father’s bosom,

because he could find sustenance nowhere else. Our Lord favours us with a

famine in the land that it may make us seek after himself the more. The best

position for a Christian is living wholly and directly on God’s grace–still

abiding where he stood at first–“Having nothing, and yet possessing all

things.” Let us never for a moment think that our standing is in our

sanctification, our mortification, our graces, or our feelings, but know that

because Christ offered a full atonement, therefore we are saved; for we are

complete in him. Having nothing of our own to trust to, but resting upon the

merits of Jesus–his passion and holy life furnish us with the only sure

ground of confidence. Beloved, when we are brought to a thirsting condition,

we are sure to turn to the fountain of life with eagerness.

2 Corinthians 7:8-10

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Did we in our own strength confide,

our striving would be losing;

Were not the right Man on our side,

the Man of God’s own choosing:

Dost ask who that may be?

Christ Jesus, it is He;

Lord Sabaoth, His Name,

from age to age the same,

And He must win the battle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the day of his appearing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Family Reading Plan   Ezekiel 48  Psalm 104

 1 Timothy 1:18-19

“Let your conscience be your guide” is a well-known expression, but one that isn’t necessarily good advice. That’s because your moral compass is only as reliable as the principles with which you program it. If you store up proper biblical instruction and training, it will be dependable to safeguard you through life. But using false ideologies from popular culture to program your conscience will set you up for moral failure.

Our heavenly Father has given each person a conscience as a gift intended to be a tool of the Holy Spirit–our one true Guide. As such, it is designed to protect you from going astray. You can trust it only when the following seven statements are true of you:

Jesus Christ is your Savior and Lord.

The Bible is the basis for your conduct.

You have a strong desire to obey God.

You make decisions prayerfully.

Your conscience sounds the alarm when you consider a wrong direction in thought or action.

You feel guilty when you disobey.

You feel compelled to repent of your disobedience.

A trustworthy conscience reacts immediately to disobedience. There is no making excuses and no waffling over whether or not something may have been wrong.

To develop a reliable conscience, read and apply Scripture so God’s principles will override any prior bad programming. Then, under the Holy Spirit’s guidance, it will sound protective alerts. Don’t put faith in your conscience alone, but trust God to make it an effective tool for leading you.

Few of us would be able to recollect from our childhoods the moment when self-consciousness first came into being and the process of waking to self began. For most of us, awareness broke through in pieces. We found ourselves then as we continue to find ourselves now: at times stirringly wakeful to what it means to be human, aware of self and lifetime, and startled by the abruptness of its end.  Essayist Annie Dillard articulates the progression of consciousness with stirring lucidity:

“I woke in bits, like all children, piecemeal over the years. I discovered myself and the world, and forgot them, and discovered them again. I woke at intervals until, by that September when Father went down the river, the intervals of waking tipped the scales, and I was more often awake than not. I noticed this process of waking, and predicted with terrifying logic that one of these years not far away I would be awake continuously and never slip back, and never be free of myself again.”(1)

Dillard describes the rousing of self as strangely recognizable—”like people brought back from cardiac arrest or drowning.” There is a familiarity in the midst of the foreignness. We wake to mystery, but so somehow we wake to something known.

We find ourselves jarred awake in a different way to the idea of death, this unsettling notion of forever falling asleep to the life we have known. Spanish philosopher Miguel de Unamuno once observed that human beings are distinguished from other creatures in that we have the unique practice of burying our dead. In our funeral preparations, we make the dead ready for another stage; we make ourselves ready to continue on, our eyes further open to the weight of life. We stand ceremoniously present; we speak words over the dead body. Professor James Loder further notes the rebellion inherent in these preparations: “We will not let death have the last word. This is a mark of the human spirit that something in us knows we can overcome this thing.”(2)

The Christian voice calls the world to the wakeful awareness of this spirit, to the story reaching beyond self, beyond our lifetimes and our deaths, speaking words where death stings and tears flow: “The sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light; the stars will fall from the sky, and the heavenly bodies will be shaken… They will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of the sky, with power and great glory. And he will send his angels with a loud trumpet call… when you see all these things, you know that itis near, right at the door” (Matthew 24:29-33).

Jesus appeared on the scene of a people who had lived with God’s silence for hundreds of years. Not since the prophet Malachi had God given his people a message, an indication of where they stood, a sign of his presence. The heavens were silent. But even in silence, God was moving. The story of Christ’s coming, the Incarnation of hope and light, is a reminder to stay awake to the knowledge that this is still so. The story that can seize our lives with awakenings to more and more is still unfolding. For the Christian, this mystery is our consciousness. Christ has come. Christ has risen. Christ will come again.

In a letter to a group of fumbling believers, the apostle Paul wrote, “If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men. But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep.”(3) Like children waking to consciousness, we shall one day forever wake to our lives and true humanity. What if something in us knows that Christ is near, right at the door, longing to show us even now. It is worth being found awake, ready for something new and something we have known all along.

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

(1) Annie Dillard, An American Childhood (New York: HarperCollins, 1988), 11.

(2) James E. Loder, The Logic of the Spirit (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1998), 4.

(3) 1 Corinthians 15:19-20.

 Morning  “I will meditate in thy precepts.” / Psalm 119:15

 There are times when solitude is better than society, and silence is wiser

than speech. We should be better Christians if we were more alone, waiting

upon God, and gathering through meditation on his Word spiritual strength for

labour in his service. We ought to muse upon the things of God, because we

thus get the real nutriment out of them. Truth is something like the cluster

of the vine: if we would have wine from it, we must bruise it; we must press

and squeeze it many times. The bruiser’s feet must come down joyfully upon the

bunches, or else the juice will not flow; and they must well tread the grapes,

or else much of the precious liquid will be wasted. So we must, by meditation,

tread the clusters of truth, if we would get the wine of consolation

therefrom. Our bodies are not supported by merely taking food into the mouth,

but the process which really supplies the muscle, and the nerve, and the

sinew, and the bone, is the process of digestion. It is by digestion that the

outward food becomes assimilated with the inner life. Our souls are not

nourished merely by listening awhile to this, and then to that, and then to

the other part of divine truth. Hearing, reading, marking, and learning, all

require inwardly digesting to complete their usefulness, and the inward

digesting of the truth lies for the most part in meditating upon it. Why is it

that some Christians, although they hear many sermons, make but slow advances

in the divine life? Because they neglect their closets, and do not

thoughtfully meditate on God’s Word. They love the wheat, but they do not

grind it; they would have the corn, but they will not go forth into the fields

to gather it; the fruit hangs upon the tree, but they will not pluck it; the

water flows at their feet, but they will not stoop to drink it. From such

folly deliver us, O Lord, and be this our resolve this morning, “I will

meditate in thy precepts.”

Evening “The Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost.” / John 14:26

 This age is peculiarly the dispensation of the Holy Spirit, in which Jesus

cheers us, not by his personal presence, as he shall do by-and-by, but by the

indwelling and constant abiding of the Holy Ghost, who is evermore the

Comforter of the church. It is his office to console the hearts of God’s

people. He convinces of sin; he illuminates and instructs; but still the main

part of his work lies in making glad the hearts of the renewed, in confirming

the weak, and lifting up all those that be bowed down. He does this by

revealing Jesus to them. The Holy Spirit consoles, but Christ is the

consolation. If we may use the figure, the Holy Spirit is the Physician, but

Jesus is the medicine. He heals the wound, but it is by applying the holy

ointment of Christ’s name and grace. He takes not of his own things, but of

the things of Christ. So if we give to the Holy Spirit the Greek name of

Paraclete, as we sometimes do, then our heart confers on our blessed Lord

Jesus the title of Paraclesis. If the one be the Comforter, the other is the

Comfort. Now, with such rich provision for his need, why should the Christian

be sad and desponding? The Holy Spirit has graciously engaged to be thy

Comforter: dost thou imagine, O thou weak and trembling believer, that he will

be negligent of his sacred trust? Canst thou suppose that he has undertaken

what he cannot or will not perform? If it be his especial work to strengthen

thee, and to comfort thee, dost thou suppose he has forgotten his business, or

that he will fail in the loving office which he sustains towards thee? Nay,

think not so hardly of the tender and blessed Spirit whose name is “the

Comforter.” He delights to give the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment

of praise for the spirit of heaviness. Trust thou in him, and he will surely

comfort thee till the house of mourning is closed forever, and the marriage

feast has begun.

The helper, the Holy Spirit.   John 14:26

This age is peculiarly the dispensation of the Holy Spirit, in which Jesus cheers us not by His personal presence, as He will do soon enough, but by the indwelling and constant abiding of the Holy Spirit, who is forever the Comforter of the church. It is the Spirit’s role to console the hearts of God’s people. He convinces of sin; He illumines and instructs; but the main part of His work still lies in gladdening the hearts of the renewed, confirming the weak, and lifting up all those who are bowed down. He does this by revealing Jesus to them. The Holy Spirit consoles, but Christ is the consolation.

If we may use the figure, the Holy Spirit is the Physician, but Jesus is the medicine. He heals the wound, but it is by applying the holy ointment of Christ’s name and grace. He does not take of His own things, but of the things of Christ. So if we give to the Holy Spirit the Greek name of Paraclete, as we sometimes do, then our heart confers on our blessed Lord Jesus the title of Paraclesis. If one is the Comforter, the other is the Comfort.

Now, with such rich provision for his need, why should the Christian be sad and despondent? The Holy Spirit has graciously committed to be your Comforter: Do you imagine, weak and trembling believer, that He will neglect this sacred trust? Do you suppose that He has undertaken what He cannot or will not perform? If it is His special work to strengthen you and to comfort you, do you suppose He has forgotten His business or that He will fail in fulfilling His loving task of sustaining you? Don’t think so poorly of the tender and blessed Spirit whose name is the Comforter.

He delights to give the oil of joy for mourning and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. Trust in Him, and He will surely comfort you until the house of mourning is closed forever, and the marriage feast has begun.

Family Reading Plan   Ezekiel 45  Psalm 101

1 Timothy 1:3-7

God gave every person the capacity to discern right from wrong. For each person, this gift–known as a conscience–is programmed with a distinct belief set and, therefore, functions differently from everyone else’s. From the moment we begin processing instructions and warnings, our conscience is developing a code of conduct by which we will live.

Whether the authority figures in your life offered sound life principles and fair consequences or provided little guidance of real value, your conscience collected the data. As children grow to adulthood, they pay attention to the words and actions of others. Both positive and negative results are added to the program. People who disappoint us teach just as much as those who impress. The programming continues throughout life, so every situation we encounter has the capacity to affect our decisions and actions.

The conscience is a flexible tool; it can absorb new data and adjust a person’s values and perspective. That’s good news for those who begin with poor programming but find valuable biblical guidance later on. Yet flexibility is potentially bad news for those who expose themselves repeatedly to falsehood and vain philosophies. If they ignore wisdom and truth, they will assimilate the deceptive viewpoints of modern culture.

The conscience isn’t a wholly reliable resource, but it’s a tool of the One who is completely trustworthy. The Holy Spirit works in conjunction with our inborn moral compass. He gives direction when the conscience blares a warning and interprets God’s Word when the conscience is hurting.

Morning “Let us lift up our heart with our hands unto God in the heavens.” /

Lamentations 3:41  

The act of prayer teaches us our unworthiness, which is a very salutary lesson

for such proud beings as we are. If God gave us favours without constraining

us to pray for them we should never know how poor we are, but a true prayer is

an inventory of wants, a catalogue of necessities, a revelation of hidden

poverty. While it is an application to divine wealth, it is a confession of

human emptiness. The most healthy state of a Christian is to be always empty

in self and constantly depending upon the Lord for supplies; to be always poor

in self and rich in Jesus; weak as water personally, but mighty through God to

do great exploits; and hence the use of prayer, because, while it adores God,

it lays the creature where it should be, in the very dust. Prayer is in

itself, apart from the answer which it brings, a great benefit to the

Christian. As the runner gains strength for the race by daily exercise, so for

the great race of life we acquire energy by the hallowed labour of prayer.

Prayer plumes the wings of God’s young eaglets, that they may learn to mount

above the clouds. Prayer girds the loins of God’s warriors, and sends them

forth to combat with their sinews braced and their muscles firm. An earnest

pleader cometh out of his closet, even as the sun ariseth from the chambers of

the east, rejoicing like a strong man to run his race. Prayer is that uplifted

hand of Moses which routs the Amalekites more than the sword of Joshua; it is

the arrow shot from the chamber of the prophet foreboding defeat to the

Syrians. Prayer girds human weakness with divine strength, turns human folly

into heavenly wisdom, and gives to troubled mortals the peace of God. We know

not what prayer cannot do! We thank thee, great God, for the mercy-seat, a

choice proof of thy marvellous lovingkindness. Help us to use it aright

throughout this day!

Evening “Whom he did predestinate, them he also called.” / Romans 8:30

 In the second epistle to Timothy, first chapter, and ninth verse, are these

words–“Who hath saved us, and called us with an holy calling.” Now, here is a

touchstone by which we may try our calling. It is “an holy calling, not

according to our works, but according to his own purpose and grace.” This

calling forbids all trust in our own doings, and conducts us to Christ alone

for salvation, but it afterwards purges us from dead works to serve the living

and true God. As he that hath called you is holy, so must you be holy. If you

are living in sin, you are not called, but if you are truly Christ’s, you can

say, “Nothing pains me so much as sin; I desire to be rid of it; Lord, help me

to be holy.” Is this the panting of thy heart? Is this the tenor of thy life

towards God, and his divine will? Again, in Philippians, 3:13, 14, we are told

of “The high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” Is then your calling a high

calling? Has it ennobled your heart, and set it upon heavenly things? Has it

elevated your hopes, your tastes, your desires? Has it upraised the constant

tenor of your life, so that you spend it with God and for God? Another test we

find in Hebrews 3:1–“Partakers of the heavenly calling.” Heavenly calling

means a call from heaven. If man alone call thee, thou art uncalled. Is thy

calling of God? Is it a call to heaven as well as from heaven? Unless thou art

a stranger here, and heaven thy home, thou hast not been called with a

heavenly calling; for those who have been so called, declare that they look

for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God, and they

themselves are strangers and pilgrims upon the earth. Is thy calling thus

holy, high, heavenly? Then, beloved, thou hast been called of God, for such is

the calling wherewith God doth call his people.

 Sometimes I get the feeling from our media that there is a serious effort underway to keep us all anxious, in a state of informed concern, and always on the alert against—well, everything. Rather than a balanced, more general, and necessary exhortation to be cautious, we seem to manufacture fear. We take the advent of 24/7 news, a proliferation of “experts,” and a deluge of “the latest studies,” and out comes an overdose of worry or outright fear.

Everyday I am told that education standards are falling, the economy is in shambles, crime is rising, my food is dangerous, predators are on the prowl in neighborhoods, my body is under assault from saturated fats, and I can’t trust my bankers, accountants, or politicians. There are religious fanatics on the loose and weapons of mass destruction waiting to get me. Gas prices are rising, work seems hard to get, and on top of it all, the poisoned environment is gearing up to offer a big time payback.

Now, I don’t know about you, but the constant immersion in such things, the saturation of space, and the occupation of time by these ideas, does not add to the balance of hope, expectation, joy, or comfort. Could it be that into this culture framed narrative, we can listen to a word from another century? Jesus, speaking to his disciples, once said, “Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear” (Matthew 6:25). How on earth can we not worry?

Is this possible, is it practical, is it even real? We have whole industries, massive budgets, and multitudes of people, all whose business is marketing worry. Now I’m not exactly suggesting that there is some large scale conspiracy effort to manipulate us all. What I do mean, however, is that many of us live unreflective lives. We don’t pay much (or any) attention to the things that may deeply influence or affect us. For example, it is a necessary condition of a modern economy to keep us restless, dissatisfied, and always seeking, wanting, striving for things, experiences, stuff, education, honors, fun, or whatever. Yet, this perpetual stimulus, as Kenneth Gergen writes in The Saturated Self, indeed has fallout. It leads, he proposes, to a condition of “multiphrenia.”

We are all used to terms like ADD and many similar symptoms to describe our age. We are distracted, busy, under demand, and more often than not worn out or beaten down. So what can we do to combat these forces that deeply affect us? When I was a child in Scotland, I was taught a basic discipline essential to all children in areas where walking to school by busy roads was the norm. Where crossing roads and moving through traffic was inevitable, the key was learning to do it safely. Hence, we were taught: Stop! Look! Listen! These three words and practices were drummed into us. Let me draw on this.

Learning to stop is often the beginning point in our harassed lives. Simply stop and be still. Then, look. Look around, look within, evaluate, and discern. Next, listen. What do you hear, see, sense? Culture’s invasive power may be resisted by a simple set of steps that break the hold of intrusion and allow us to reestablish our focus (see Matthew 6:33). With a fresh resolve to live differently, listen carefully, and act intentionally, new life and will to live is unleashed. Socrates is identified as having observed that the unexamined life is not worth living. I think for many of us, this is the problem. We simply let life take over, circumstances dominate, and pressures define us. But a spirituality of resistance learns to say no. Writing in a time of great pressure, real danger, and many struggles, Paul said to the Philippians: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, and with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” What can we expect as the outcome? God’s peace will guard our hearts and minds.

There are indeed vested interests in the promotion of worry and the amplification of anxiety. But the Lord of history offers an alternative: Trust in Christ and be anxious for nothing!

Stuart McAllister is vice president of training and special projects at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.