Tag Archives: spirituality

Treasures in Darkness – Ravi Zacharias

 

Those of us who make our home in the Northern Hemisphere must welcome the encroaching darkness of the winter months. At the height of winter in Kotzebue, Alaska, for example, daylight is but a mere two hours. Where I live, the light begins to recede around 4:30 PM. When the winter sun is out it simply rides the southern horizon with a distant, hazy glow.

Perhaps it seems strange to some, but I love the shorter-days and the darkening skies of winter. For me, the darkness of winter invokes nostalgia for the days of huddling around the fireplace with hot coffee and curling up with a good book. Indeed, there are some gifts that can only be enjoyed in the darkness of winter and in this season of lessening light.

Of course, darkness and night evoke ominous images as well. Pre-Christian inhabitants of the Northern Hemisphere—who did not separate natural phenomenon from their religious and spiritual understanding—saw the departing sunlight as the fleeing away of what they believed was the Sun God. Darkness indicated a loss of hope, absence and cessation of life.(1) Like it did for these ancient peoples, darkness creates fear. We are afraid of what we cannot see in the dark, and what is seen inhabits the mysterious realm of shadows. Darkness has always represented chaos, evil, and death, and therefore is rarely thought of in either romantic or nostalgic terms.

For many individuals—even those who live in sun-filled hemispheres—the darkness of life is a daily nightmare. Despair, chronic loneliness, doubt, and isolation conspire to prevent even the dimmest light. The darkness that comes only as a visitor during the night is for many a perpetual reality. Is there any reason to hope that the light might be found even in these dark places? Are there any gifts that can be received here?

It is not by accident that the season of Advent coincides with the earthly season of fading light and increasing darkness. With its focus on waiting, repentance, and longing, Christians view Advent as a season of somber reflection. Yet, even as the light recedes in winter, the season of Advent bids all to come and find surprising gifts in the shorter days, in the womb of pregnant possibility, and in the anxious anticipation that accompanies waiting in the darkness. Those pre-Christian peoples who watched their sun-god disappear found that there were gifts that could be had even in this dark season. They took the wheels off of their carts, and decorated them with greens and garlands, hanging them on their walls as mementos of beauty and hope. Taking the wheels off of their carts meant the cessation of work and a time to watch and wait. As Gertrud Muller Nelson writes about this ancient ritual, “Slowly, slowly they wooed the sun-god back. And light followed darkness. Morning came earlier. The festivals announced the return of hope after primal darkness.”(2)

While the dark is mysterious and often ominous, it is also a place of unexpected treasures. As one author notes, “[S]pring bulbs and summer seeds come to life in the unlit places underground. Costly jewel stones lie embedded in the dark interiors of ordinary rocks. Oil, gas, and coal reserves lie far beneath the light of the earth’s surface. The dark depths of the ocean teem with life.”(3) Indeed, unique gifts from earth, sky, and sea can only be observed in the dark.

Spiritual gifts often emerge out of the darkness as well. The writer of Genesis paints a picture of the Spirit of God hovering over the primordial chaos and the darkness that covered the surface of the deep. Out of the darkness of chaos came the light of creation. The covenant promises of God to give children and land to Abram were forged “when the sun was going down…and terror and great darkness fell upon him” (Genesis 15:12). Moses received the Law in the “thick darkness where God was” (Exodus 20:21; Deuteronomy 5:22). God’s abiding presence was the gift from the darkness. Speaking through the prophet Isaiah, the God of Israel promises: “I will give you the treasures of darkness, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord, the God of Israel, who summons you by name” (Isaiah 45:3). Indeed, the long-awaited Messiah would be revealed to those “who walk in darkness” and who “live in a dark land” (Isaiah 9:2).

For those who dwell in the dark season of despair or discouragement, for those who are afraid in the dark, and for those who grope in the darkness, the promise of treasures of darkness may spark a light of hope. “The recovery of hope,” writes Muller Nelson, “can only be accomplished when we have had the courage to stop and wait and engage fully the in the winter of our dark longing.”(4)

The hope of Advent is that God is in the darkness with us even though our experience of God may seem as clear as shifting shadow. The hope of Christmas is that God’s coming near to us in the person of Jesus is not hindered by the darkness of this world, or of our own lives. We may fear our dark despair hides us from God, but the treasure of God’s presence awaits us even there—for the darkness is as light to God. And today, light has come!

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

(1) Gertrud Muller Nelson, To Dance With God: Family Ritual and Community Celebration (Mahwah, New Jersey: Paulist Press), 63.

(2) Ibid., 63.

(3) Sally Breedlove, Choosing Rest: Cultivating a Sunday Heart in a Monday World (Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2002), 133.

(4) Gertrud Muller Nelson, 63.

Unfamiliar Christmas – Ravi Zacharias

 

If the first chapter of Luke is the preface to a great story—the foretelling of a herald, the prophecy of a child, the return of the throne of a king—the second chapter is the culmination. The Roman world is called to a census. A young couple journeys to Bethlehem to be counted. A child is born. “And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.’ Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.’”(1)

Christian or otherwise, the Christmas story is often viewed as wonderful in its familiarity, calling forth each year a childhood delight in the monotonous, beckoning our imaginations to a stable and a story. Christmas hymns, full of imagery and story, are piped in as background music at post offices and malls. Manger scenes can still be found as part of familiar Christmas décor. Yet often for those to whom it is all most familiar, it is also a story we can find surprisingly unfamiliar each year. Like children delighting in another reading of a bedtime favorite, the Nativity is somehow still startling in its mysteries, the child still out of place in the manger, the story full of profound paradox.

The first time I walked through the crowded, pungent streets of Bethlehem, I was struck by the disparity between what I was seeing and “the little town of Bethlehem” I had imagined in pageants and songs. The harsh reality of God becoming a child in the midst of the cold and dark world I knew myself suddenly seemed a blaring proclamation: The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. There is a plaque of the same words outside the dark and ancient church built upon what was once the place of the nativity. Reading this in the actual Bethlehem, I remember thinking I had never really considered it before: God taking on flesh to live here, with us, in our chaos and fighting and despair.

 

Upon his conversion, Charles Wesley took to hymn writing as a means of attempting to capture the strange hope of a God among us, which was persistently stirring in his mind. Though a few of the words have long since been changed, one of Charles Wesley’s 6,000 hymns is a widely beloved declaration of the Incarnation. Seeking to convey in pen and ink a Christmas story both familiar to our hearts and startling in its wonder, Wesley wrote:

Hark, how all the welkin rings,

“Glory to the King of kings;

Peace on earth, and mercy mild,

God and sinners reconciled!”

For Wesley, the Christ child in the manger was forever an indication of the great lengths God will go to reconcile his creation, a savior willing to descend that we might be able to ascend. “Welkin” is an old English term meaning “the vault of heaven.” Wesley was telling the radical story of the Incarnation: All of heaven opening up for the birth of a king and the rebirth of humanity.

The star of Bethlehem, the magi, the shepherds, and the willing child Mary are all amid the long-imagined and inconceivable markers of a God among us. The birth of Christ is the timeless gesture that God has chosen to remain. And Christmas is a time to imagine what it means if the hard cries of a real and unpolished world have really been heard, if a savior was born, if the vault of heaven was truly opened.

Hail the heav’nly Prince of Peace!

Hail the Sun of Righteousness!

Light and life to all He brings,

Ris’n with healing in his wings.

Mild He lays his glory by,

Born that man no more may die.

Born to raise the sons of earth,

Born to give them second birth

Hark! the herald angels sing,

“Glory to the newborn King!”

 

 

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

(1) Luke 2:8-14.

Christmas in Heaven – Greg Laurie

 

Merry Christmas to all of you!

Christmas is a day of joy. But for me and my family, it is also tinged with sadness, because it is a day when Christopher’s absence is intensely felt.

I have to tell you, Topher loved Christmas! It was always a big deal to him as a little boy, and when he became a father, he wanted it to be a big deal for his daughters. He always was so thoughtful in his choice of gifts and often made them by hand, which was always a special treat for me. He also had fantastic “wrapping skills,” which I am completely devoid of.

On that first Christmas night, while the shepherds kept watch over their flocks, the angel brought this good news: “Do not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people” (Luke 2:10).

This is how heaven celebrated the first Christmas. On this holy night, in effect, heaven momentarily came to earth. Heaven and earth are always co-existing, but sometimes they can seem worlds apart and other times separated by only a thin veil. When tragedy hits, when illness prevails, heaven can sometimes seem distant.

But when we join the angels in worship, and see God in His greatness, heaven can seem so very, very close. For us as believers, we are just a heartbeat away from heaven right now. As David put it, “There is but a step between me and death” (1 Samuel 20:3).

Christmas in heaven is better than Christmas on earth. It is pure bliss. Not twinkling lights, but the radiant light of heaven itself. Not metal angels on trees, but real, holy angels of God all around.

You see, in heaven there is peace. On earth there is war. In heaven there is perfect harmony. On earth there is often friction among family and friends. In heaven, feasting and perfection. On earth there is fattening food and expanding waistlines.

We don’t need to sorrow for our loved ones who are celebrating Christmas in heaven, but we do sorrow for ourselves over their absence.

Today, however, remember to let the ones on earth you love know it. Tell them verbally. Because you never know if you or I or someone we hold dear might be in heaven next Christmas.

So have a blessed and merry Christmas day.

The Gift of His Peace – By Dr. Charles Stanley

 

There is a special word found throughout the Christmas story that should be very important and meaningful to you and I as we consider the birth of the Christ child. Used more than 400 times in Scripture, it is a term found interwoven in the prophecies of Jesus’ coming as a special gift to us from God.

That wonderful word is peace.

In speaking about the Savior, the prophet Isaiah reported, “A child will be born to us, a son will be given to us; and the government will rest on His shoulders; and His name will be . . . Prince of Peace” (Isa. 9:6). Also, recall what the angels said the night Jesus was born: “There appeared . . . a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased’” (Luke 2:13–14).

Christmas can undoubtedly be one of the most joyous and revitalizing seasons of the year for us as believers. However, it can also be hectic and nerve-wracking—so much so that we lose our sense of security and tranquility, which is the very thing Jesus came to bring us.

So today I would like to ask you: In the hustle and bustle of Christmas, where do you go to find silence and stillness? Do you rejoice and rest in all that the Lord has given you? Or is this time of year characterized by impatience, agitation, conflict, and pain?

Many people believe the pathway of peace is through possessions—especially during the Christmas season. They believe that if they could just have the latest gadget, they would be happy. If they could only buy their loved ones the special objects they desire, then they could maintain harmony in their households. Sadly, this does not work. Worldly goods can never fill emptiness, give worth, or restore broken relationships.

My son, Andy, understood this from a very young age. I remember one evening when he was still in high school, we were sitting at dinner and he said to me, “Dad, I want to thank you for not giving us everything we wanted.” Of course, this had me intrigued. I asked him why he felt this way. I will never forget his explanation:

“Many of my friends—well, their parents give them everything they want, and it’s really messed them up,” Andy replied. “They think that is all there is to life. Thank you for teaching me what is truly important.” I was so thankful my son had learned this vital principle: Peace, joy, and fulfillment come through Christ, not through possessions or anything else this world can offer.

So as Christmas approaches, how can you maintain genuine tranquility in the midst of all the activities and pressures of the season? How can you preserve harmony within yourself, with others, and, most importantly, with the Father? Jesus said, “Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful” (John 14:27). How can you take hold of all He offers?

First, realize that the peace of God originates from reconciliation with Him. The Greek word for peace is eirene, and it simply means, “to bind together.” When you trust the Lord Jesus as your Savior, He binds you together with Himself for all eternity. You never need to worry about your salvation because He makes you right with the Father through His death on the cross—and no one can ever take that away from you.

Second, embrace the fact that Christ takes full responsibility for your needs as you obey Him. Earthly tranquility is often based on worldly resources, which can—and ultimately will—fail. So whenever you face situations that are beyond your abilities, talents, skills, and wealth to overcome, it is no wonder you feel overwhelmed, anxious, and discouraged. However, God is completely capable of helping you, regardless of your circumstances. Therefore, as a believer, you can calmly and joyfully trust Him, because you know that the One who is best able to give you the victory in every situation will never leave or forsake you.

Third, understand that the Father’s peace is the result of your personal relationship with Him. When you feel apprehensive, what do you do? Do you rush about, trying to find solutions to your problems? Do you try silencing your anxieties by shopping, eating, working, or engaging in some destructive habit? It doesn’t really help, does it? Friend, the Lord’s presence has the power to calm your worries and drive out your fears (1 John 4:18). Whenever these concerns creep up this Christmas, consider it a call to spend time with Him.

When you spend time with the Lord, you realize He’s got everything under control. And when you walk in the center of His will and learn to see your circumstances from His perspective, you experience the deepest, most wonderful tranquility—confident that He will work everything out for your good. Not only will you experience peace with the Father, but you’ll also be a calming presence to those around you. You’ll be able to handle the conflicts that arise with greater grace, wisdom, and composure.

So this Christmas, instead of focusing on all the presents you must buy, think of the one you most need to receive—the gift of His peace. Surrender your life to the Prince of Peace—and enjoy the rest, tranquility, and hope He created you to enjoy.

Charles Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

 

Morning   “Friend, go up higher.” / Luke 14:10

When first the life of grace begins in the soul, we do indeed draw near to

God, but it is with great fear and trembling. The soul conscious of guilt, and

humbled thereby, is overawed with the solemnity of its position; it is cast to

the earth by a sense of the grandeur of Jehovah, in whose presence it stands.

With unfeigned bashfulness it takes the lowest room.

But, in after life, as the Christian grows in grace, although he will never

forget the solemnity of his position, and will never lose that holy awe which

must encompass a gracious man when he is in the presence of the God who can

create or can destroy; yet his fear has all its terror taken out of it; it

becomes a holy reverence, and no more an overshadowing dread. He is called up

higher, to greater access to God in Christ Jesus. Then the man of God, walking

amid the splendours of Deity, and veiling his face like the glorious cherubim,

with those twin wings, the blood and righteousness of Jesus Christ, will,

reverent and bowed in spirit, approach the throne; and seeing there a God of

love, of goodness, and of mercy, he will realize rather the covenant character

of God than his absolute Deity. He will see in God rather his goodness than

his greatness, and more of his love than of his majesty. Then will the soul,

bowing still as humbly as aforetime, enjoy a more sacred liberty of

intercession; for while prostrate before the glory of the Infinite God, it

will be sustained by the refreshing consciousness of being in the presence of

boundless mercy and infinite love, and by the realization of acceptance “in

the Beloved.” Thus the believer is bidden to come up higher, and is enabled to

exercise the privilege of rejoicing in God, and drawing near to him in holy

confidence, saying, “Abba, Father.”

“So may we go from strength to strength,

And daily grow in grace,

Till in thine image raised at length,

We see thee face to face.”

 

Evening   “The night also is thine.” / Psalm 74:16

Yes, Lord, thou dost not abdicate thy throne when the sun goeth down, nor dost

thou leave the world all through these long wintry nights to be the prey of

evil; thine eyes watch us as the stars, and thine arms surround us as the

zodiac belts the sky. The dews of kindly sleep and all the influences of the

moon are in thy hand, and the alarms and solemnities of night are equally with

thee. This is very sweet to me when watching through the midnight hours, or

tossing to and fro in anguish. There are precious fruits put forth by the moon

as well as by the sun: may my Lord make me to be a favoured partaker in them.

 

The night of affliction is as much under the arrangement and control of the

Lord of Love as the bright summer days when all is bliss. Jesus is in the

tempest. His love wraps the night about itself as a mantle, but to the eye of

faith the sable robe is scarce a disguise. From the first watch of the night

even unto the break of day the eternal Watcher observes his saints, and

overrules the shades and dews of midnight for his people’s highest good. We

believe in no rival deities of good and evil contending for the mastery, but

we hear the voice of Jehovah saying, “I create light and I create darkness; I,

the Lord, do all these things.”

Gloomy seasons of religious indifference and social sin are not exempted from

the divine purpose. When the altars of truth are defiled, and the ways of God

forsaken, the Lord’s servants weep with bitter sorrow, but they may not

despair, for the darkest eras are governed by the Lord, and shall come to

their end at his bidding. What may seem defeat to us may be victory to him.

“Though enwrapt in gloomy night,

We perceive no ray of light;

Since the Lord himself is here,

‘Tis not meet that we should fear.”

Intimacy with God – Charles Stanley

 

Psalm 63:1-11

For Christians, it’s fairly simple to notice other people filling their God-shaped void with all the wrong things. It’s much harder, though, to see that same error in our own redeemed lives. We all too easily get busy for God—serving, singing, teaching, preaching, and going to the mission field. None of these things are wrong; in fact, they’re all good. But they’re often a misguided attempt to create a false sense of intimacy with God.

Why would any believer choose artificial closeness with the Lord when He wants to give His children the real thing? Two reasons: first, being known by God requires intense vulnerability and the humility to receive His grace. There is nothing we can do for the Lord or give to Him that will atone for our sins. Second, all successful friendships require hard work, and that holds true for our relationship with God as well.

To really know the Lord, you have to read the Bible—all of it. And you cannot maintain a close relationship with your heavenly Father if you ignore His principles. You must, therefore, fill your mind with godly things and forego worldly influences. In addition, a vibrant prayer life is essential to intimacy with God. These things don’t just happen; they require intentional effort.

Simply put, when we satisfy our thirst with living water, we’re no longer thirsty. When we live in intimate communion with God, the temptation to strive for saintliness in our own strength falls away. And our service, offerings, and worship, stripped of any self-serving motives, genuinely glorify God.

Charles Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

 

Morning  “I will strengthen thee.” / Isaiah 41:10

God has a strong reserve with which to discharge this engagement; for he is

able to do all things. Believer, till thou canst drain dry the ocean of

omnipotence, till thou canst break into pieces the towering mountains of

almighty strength, thou never needest to fear. Think not that the strength of

man shall ever be able to overcome the power of God. Whilst the earth’s huge

pillars stand, thou hast enough reason to abide firm in thy faith. The same

God who directs the earth in its orbit, who feeds the burning furnace of the

sun, and trims the lamps of heaven, has promised to supply thee with daily

strength. While he is able to uphold the universe, dream not that he will

prove unable to fulfil his own promises. Remember what he did in the days of

old, in the former generations. Remember how he spake and it was done; how he

commanded, and it stood fast. Shall he that created the world grow weary? He

hangeth the world upon nothing; shall he who doth this be unable to support

his children? Shall he be unfaithful to his word for want of power? Who is it

that restrains the tempest? Doth not he ride upon the wings of the wind, and

make the clouds his chariots, and hold the ocean in the hollow of his hand?

How can he fail thee? When he has put such a faithful promise as this on

record, wilt thou for a moment indulge the thought that he has outpromised

himself, and gone beyond his power to fulfil? Ah, no! Thou canst doubt no

longer.

O thou who art my God and my strength, I can believe that this promise shall

be fulfilled, for the boundless reservoir of thy grace can never be exhausted,

and the overflowing storehouse of thy strength can never be emptied by thy

friends or rifled by thine enemies.

“Now let the feeble all be strong,

And make Jehovah’s arm their song.”

 

Evening  “The spot of his children.” / Deuteronomy 32:5

What is the secret spot which infallibly betokens the child of God? It were

vain presumption to decide this upon our own judgment; but God’s word reveals

it to us, and we may tread surely where we have revelation to be our guide.

Now, we are told concerning our Lord, “to as many as received him, to them

gave he power to become the sons of God, even to as many as believed on his

name.” Then, if I have received Christ Jesus into my heart, I am a child of

God. That reception is described in the same verse as believing on the name of

Jesus Christ. If, then, I believe on Jesus Christ’s name–that is, simply from

my heart trust myself with the crucified, but now exalted, Redeemer, I am a

member of the family of the Most High. Whatever else I may not have, if I have

this, I have the privilege to become a child of God. Our Lord Jesus puts it in

another shape. “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.”

Here is the matter in a nutshell. Christ appears as a shepherd to his own

sheep, not to others. As soon as he appears, his own sheep perceive him–they

trust him, they are prepared to follow him; he knows them, and they know

him–there is a mutual knowledge–there is a constant connection between them.

Thus the one mark, the sure mark, the infallible mark of regeneration and

adoption is a hearty faith in the appointed Redeemer. Reader, are you in

doubt, are you uncertain whether you bear the secret mark of God’s children?

Then let not an hour pass over your head till you have said, “Search me, O

God, and know my heart.” Trifle not here, I adjure you! If you must trifle

anywhere, let it be about some secondary matter: your health, if you will, or

the title deeds of your estate; but about your soul, your never-dying soul and

its eternal destinies, I beseech you to be in earnest. Make sure work for

eternity.

Charles Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

 

Morning  “Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love.” / Jeremiah 31:3

Sometimes the Lord Jesus tells his Church his love thoughts. “He does not

think it enough behind her back to tell it, but in her very presence he says,

Thou art all fair, my love.’ It is true, this is not his ordinary method; he

is a wise lover, and knows when to keep back the intimation of love and when

to let it out; but there are times when he will make no secret of it; times

when he will put it beyond all dispute in the souls of his people” (R.

Erskine’s Sermons). The Holy Spirit is often pleased, in a most gracious

manner, to witness with our spirits of the love of Jesus. He takes of the

things of Christ and reveals them unto us. No voice is heard from the clouds,

and no vision is seen in the night, but we have a testimony more sure than

either of these. If an angel should fly from heaven and inform the saint

personally of the Saviour’s love to him, the evidence would not be one whit

more satisfactory than that which is borne in the heart by the Holy Ghost. Ask

those of the Lord’s people who have lived the nearest to the gates of heaven,

and they will tell you that they have had seasons when the love of Christ

towards them has been a fact so clear and sure, that they could no more doubt

it than they could question their own existence. Yes, beloved believer, you

and I have had times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord, and then our

faith has mounted to the topmost heights of assurance. We have had confidence

to lean our heads upon the bosom of our Lord, and we have no more questioned

our Master’s affection to us than John did when in that blessed posture; nay,

nor so much: for the dark question, “Lord, is it I that shall betray thee?”

has been put far from us. He has kissed us with the kisses of his mouth, and

killed our doubts by the closeness of his embrace. His love has been sweeter

than wine to our souls.

 

Evening  “Call the labourers, and give them their hire.” / Matthew 20:8

God is a good paymaster; he pays his servants while at work as well as when

they have done it; and one of his payments is this: an easy conscience. If you

have spoken faithfully of Jesus to one person, when you go to bed at night you

feel happy in thinking, “I have this day discharged my conscience of that

man’s blood.” There is a great comfort in doing something for Jesus. Oh, what

a happiness to place jewels in his crown, and give him to see of the travail

of his soul! There is also very great reward in watching the first buddings of

conviction in a soul! To say of that girl in the class, “She is tender of

heart, I do hope that there is the Lord’s work within.” To go home and pray

over that boy, who said something in the afternoon which made you think he

must know more of divine truth than you had feared! Oh, the joy of hope! But

as for the joy of success! it is unspeakable. This joy, overwhelming as it is,

is a hungry thing–you pine for more of it. To be a soul-winner is the

happiest thing in the world. With every soul you bring to Christ, you get a

new heaven upon earth. But who can conceive the bliss which awaits us above!

Oh, how sweet is that sentence, “Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord!” Do you

know what the joy of Christ is over a saved sinner? This is the very joy which

we are to possess in heaven. Yes, when he mounts the throne, you shall mount

with him. When the heavens ring with “Well done, well done,” you shall partake

in the reward; you have toiled with him, you have suffered with him, you shall

now reign with him; you have sown with him, you shall reap with him; your face

was covered with sweat like his, and your soul was grieved for the sins of men

as his soul was, now shall your face be bright with heaven’s splendour as is

his countenance, and now shall your soul be filled with beatific joys even as

his soul is.

Throwing Out the Anchor – John MacArthur

“For this reason we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it” (Heb. 2:1).

While English explorer William Edward Parry and his crew were exploring the Arctic Ocean, they needed to go further north to continue their chartings. So they calculated their location by the stars and began a treacherous march.

After many hours they stopped, exhausted. After taking their bearings, they discovered they were now further south than when they started! They had been walking on an ice floe that was traveling faster south than they were walking north.

That is similar to the situation people who continue rejecting Christ find themselves in. Therefore Hebrews 2:1 says, “We must pay closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it.”

Why would anyone knowingly reject Christ? He came into the world as God incarnate, died on a cross to forgive our sins, paid our penalty, showed us divine love, and gives us blessing and joy beyond imagination.

The Greek words translated “pay much closer attention to” and “drift away from” both have a nautical usage. The first means “to tie up a ship” and the second can be used of a ship that has been carelessly allowed to drift past the harbor because the sailor forgot to attend to the steerage or chart the wind, tides, and current. Hebrews 2:1 could be translated: “We must diligently anchor our lives to the things we have been taught, lest the ship of life drift past the harbor of salvation and be lost forever.”

Most people don’t deliberately turn their backs on God; they almost imperceptibly slip past the harbor of salvation and are broken on the rocks of destruction. Be sure you warn those you know who might be slipping past that harbor.

Suggestion for Prayer:  Ask God to strengthen your resolve when you know you need to confront someone regarding his or her relationship with the Lord.

For Further Study:   Memorize Proverbs 4:20-22 as your own reminder of how important it is to hold on to God’s Word.

God’s Gift to Us (Part 2) – Greg Laurie

 

For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given; and the government will be upon His shoulder. And His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.— Isaiah 9:6

We celebrate Christmas in order to rejoice over God’s most precious gift to us. The birth of Jesus Christ is a gift from God that came in simple wrapping, as well as a gift we don’t deserve. But the gift of Christ also explains His purpose for humankind.

The gift of Christ was no afterthought. Long before there was a stable in Bethlehem, before Adam and Eve ever set eyes on each other, and even before there existed a garden called Eden, God decided to send His Son Jesus Christ to die on the cross for our sins.

From the beginning, God knew humankind would fall short of His glory. That is why the Scriptures proclaim that Jesus Christ was slain from the foundation of the world (see Revelation 13:8).

God made a decision from the very beginning that Christ would come to this earth to live and die and rise again from the dead. God’s gift to us proves His purpose to redeem us.

The gift of Jesus Christ is what Christmas is all about. Jesus came near to us so we could come near to Him.

Christmas is not about tinsel or shopping or gifts under a tree. Christmas is about the gift God gave on the tree where Christ died for our sins, giving us the gift of eternal life.

That is what He has accomplished. This is the gift He extends. And if you receive it, you will experience the merriest Christmas of all.

Hunger and Thirst for God – Charles Stanley

 

Isaiah 55:1-5

The story of David inspires us to want an intimate relationship with God. But where does that kind of passion come from? It is not manufactured or created by effort or will power. And we cannot work ourselves into a state of genuine yearning for the Lord—our carnal nature would never allow us to sustain that level of devotion. A hunger and thirst for God is actually a gift from the Lord Himself.

God predestined us to be conformed to the image of His Son, so He planted within us an innate desire to know and be known by the Savior. The problem is that many people, mistaking this yearning for cravings of other kinds, pursue things like affection, flattery, or fame. They go through life trying to create whatever kind of personal connection they can to fulfill desires they don’t even understand. All too often, the result is empty relationships, excessive work, and immoral behavior.

People rush from here to there doing their best to satisfy an inborn hunger created by Almighty God Himself—a hunger so powerful that it will be sated by nothing less than intimacy with God. David knew there was only one solution to the constant yearning in his heart. As St. Augustine said, “Our hearts are restless till they find their rest in Him.”

God has created within all of us the capacity to have a deep personal relationship with Him. But our sin nature does not give us the power to generate such intimacy. If you find yourself trying to satisfy your inborn hunger in your own strength, turn to the Lord, who is the author of your desires.

Into the Dark – Ravi Zacharias

 

There are stories that emerge from the life of Jesus before he was old enough to tell stories of his own. Some are more familiar than others; some are always written out of the school plays and pageants. The prophet Isaiah told of a child who would be born for the people, a son given to the world with authority resting on his shoulders. Hundreds of years later, in Mary and Joseph of Nazareth, this prophecy was being fulfilled. The angel had appeared. A child was born. The magi had come. The ancient story was taking shape in a field in Bethlehem. But when Herod learned from the magi that a king would be born, he gave orders to kill all the boys in and around Bethlehem who were two years old and under. At this murderous edict, another prophecy, this one spoken through the prophet Jeremiah, was sadly fulfilled: “A voice is heard in Ramah, mourning and great weeping; Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more” (Jeremiah 31:15, Matthew 2:16-18). While the escape of Mary and Joseph to Egypt allowed Jesus to be spared, the cost, as Rachel and all the mothers’ who didn’t escape knew well, was wrenchingly great.

Of the many objections to Christianity, the one that stands out in my mind as troubling is the argument that to be Christian is to withdraw from the world, to follow fairy tales with wishful hearts and myths that insist we stop thinking and believe that all will be right in the end because God says so. In such a vein, Karl Marx depicts Christianity as a kind of drug that anesthetizes people to the suffering in the world and the wretchedness of life. Likewise, in Sigmund Freud’s estimation, belief in God functions as an infantile dream that helps us evade the pain and helplessness we both feel and see around us. I don’t find these critiques and others like them troubling because I find them accurate of the kingdom Jesus described. I find them troubling because there are times I want to live as if Freud and Marx are quite right in their analyses. I am thankful that the Christmas story itself refuses me from doing so.

The story of Christmas is far from an invitation to live blind and unconcerned with the world of suffering around us, intent to tell feel-good stories while withdrawing from the harder scenes of life. In reality, the Incarnation leaves us with a God who, in taking our embodiment quite seriously, presents quite the opposite of escapism. The story of Rachel weeping for her slaughtered children is one story among many that refuses to let us sweep the suffering of the world under the rug of unimportance. The fact that it is included in the gospel that brings us the hope of Christ is not only what makes that hope endurable, but what proves Freud and Marx entirely wrong. For Christ brings the kind of hope that can reach even the most hopeless among us, within the darkest moment. Jesus has not overlooked the suffering of the world anymore than he has invited his followers to do so; it is a part of the very story he tells.

In a poem called “On the Mystery of the Incarnation,” Denise Levertov gives a description of the Christmas story with room for the darkness and a mystery that reminds us that the light will yet shine:

It’s when we face for a moment

the worst our kind can do, and shudder to know

the taint in our own selves, that awe

cracks the mind’s shell and enters the heart:

not to a flower, not to a dolphin,

to no innocent form.

But to this creature vainly sure

it and no other is god-like, God

(out of compassion for our ugly

failure to evolve) entrusts,

as guest, as brother,

the Word.

The story of the Incarnation presents a God who comes near to the whole story, not merely the parts that fit neatly in pageants. This God speaks and acts in the very places that seem so dark that no human insight or power can do anything. God comes to be with us in our weakness, with us in despair and death and sorrow, with us in betrayal and abandonment. There is no part of the human experience that is left untouched by God’s becoming human. And there is no part of human experience that God cannot redeem and heal and save. There are many Rachels who are still weeping—the poor, the demoralized, the suffering, the mourning. With them, we wait and watch, looking toward the God who comes into the very midst of it.

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

Charles Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

 

Morning   “The lot is cast into the lap, but the whole disposing thereof is of the

Lord.” / Proverbs 16:33

If the disposal of the lot is the Lord’s whose is the arrangement of our whole

life? If the simple casting of a lot is guided by him, how much more the

events of our entire life–especially when we are told by our blessed Saviour:

“The very hairs of your head are all numbered: not a sparrow falleth to the

ground without your Father.” It would bring a holy calm over your mind, dear

friend, if you were always to remember this. It would so relieve your mind

from anxiety, that you would be the better able to walk in patience, quiet,

and cheerfulness as a Christian should. When a man is anxious he cannot pray

with faith; when he is troubled about the world, he cannot serve his Master,

his thoughts are serving himself. If you would “seek first the kingdom of God

and his righteousness,” all things would then be added unto you. You are

meddling with Christ’s business, and neglecting your own when you fret about

your lot and circumstances. You have been trying “providing” work and

forgetting that it is yours to obey. Be wise and attend to the obeying, and

let Christ manage the providing. Come and survey your Father’s storehouse, and

ask whether he will let you starve while he has laid up so great an abundance

in his garner? Look at his heart of mercy; see if that can ever prove unkind!

Look at his inscrutable wisdom; see if that will ever be at fault. Above all,

look up to Jesus Christ your Intercessor, and ask yourself, while he pleads,

can your Father deal ungraciously with you? If he remembers even sparrows,

will he forget one of the least of his poor children? “Cast thy burden upon

the Lord, and he will sustain thee. He will never suffer the righteous to be

moved.”

My soul, rest happy in thy low estate,

Nor hope nor wish to be esteem’d or great;

To take the impress of the Will Divine,

Be that thy glory, and those riches thine.

 

Evening   “And there was no more sea.” / Revelation 21:1

Scarcely could we rejoice at the thought of losing the glorious old ocean: the

new heavens and the new earth are none the fairer to our imagination, if,

indeed, literally there is to be no great and wide sea, with its gleaming

waves and shelly shores. Is not the text to be read as a metaphor, tinged with

the prejudice with which the Oriental mind universally regarded the sea in the

olden times? A real physical world without a sea it is mournful to imagine, it

would be an iron ring without the sapphire which made it precious. There must

be a spiritual meaning here. In the new dispensation there will be no

division–the sea separates nations and sunders peoples from each other. To

John in Patmos the deep waters were like prison walls, shutting him out from

his brethren and his work: there shall be no such barriers in the world to

come. Leagues of rolling billows lie between us and many a kinsman whom

tonight we prayerfully remember, but in the bright world to which we go there

shall be unbroken fellowship for all the redeemed family. In this sense there

shall be no more sea. The sea is the emblem of change; with its ebbs and

flows, its glassy smoothness and its mountainous billows, its gentle murmurs

and its tumultuous roarings, it is never long the same. Slave of the fickle

winds and the changeful moon, its instability is proverbial. In this mortal

state we have too much of this; earth is constant only in her inconstancy, but

in the heavenly state all mournful change shall be unknown, and with it all

fear of storm to wreck our hopes and drown our joys. The sea of glass glows

with a glory unbroken by a wave. No tempest howls along the peaceful shores of

paradise. Soon shall we reach that happy land where partings, and changes, and

storms shall be ended! Jesus will waft us there. Are we in him or not? This is

the grand question.

God’s Gift to Us (Part 1) – Greg Laurie

 

For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.  – John 3:17

When you’re a child, Christmas is all about receiving gifts. In December, your head is swimming with nothing but images of your favorite toys.

But the true message of Christmas is not the presents we give to one another. The true meaning is the gift that God gave to us, His Son Jesus Christ.

During the next two days, I want to point out to you three things about the gift God gave to us in that tiny manger in Bethlehem.

The first thing we want to realize about God’s gift to us is that it came in simple wrapping. Some people will go to great lengths to wrap presents beautifully. But God’s gift came to us not in beautiful, ornate wrapping, but in a dirty manger found in a cold cave in a little-known town called Bethlehem.

That’s the beauty of the Christmas event. Jesus took His place in a manger so that we might have a home in heaven. The Savior was not wrapped in satin sheets, but in common rags. There in a manger rested the greatest gift in the plainest of wrapping.

The second thing I want to point out about God’s gift to us is that we don’t deserve it. Consider this: God gave us the ultimate gift of His Son Jesus Christ while we were still sinning against Him (see Romans 5:8).

We did nothing whatsoever to merit or deserve His gift. That is the amazing truth of Christmas. Despite who we are, God sent His Son so “that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).

With Christmas just days away, begin to prepare your heart for the celebration of the birth of our Savior. Meditate on the fact that Jesus was born to die so that we might live.

Immanuel – Ravi Zacharias

 

Impossible to miss in any mall, grocery store, elevator, or voice mail system, Christmas music is as ubiquitous as snow in Alaska. I have yet to walk into a store this Christmas season that wasn’t playing “It’s the most wonderful time of the year.” I’m sure you are familiar with the song and can hear the tune in your head: With kids jingle belling/ and everyone telling you/ “Be of good cheer,”/ It’s the most wonderful time of the year. With this music all around me, I can’t help but begin to hum along, and feel uplifted as if it truly is the most wonderful time of the year.

And yet, for many individuals, Christmas is anything but wonderful. In fact, the joviality, décor, and the music simply strike dissonant chords because of the memories, emotions, and experiences associated with this season. Families in Aurora, Colorado, Portland, Oregon and now Newtown, Connecticut in the United States feel the emptiness of loss, the hemorrhage of violence, and the undertow of grief as a result of horrific gun violence. Sadly, these kinds of tragedies—and especially these two so close to Christmas day—will mark every Christmas for those bereaved for the rest of their lives.

There are others who also grieve the loss of a loved one—not necessarily from gun violence—but from the violence of a body turned against itself through cancer or some other debilitating or destructive disease. For all of these who are grieving, Christmas reminds them of yet another empty chair. Others experience joblessness or underemployment, numbing loneliness, disappointed expectations, ruptured relationships, and rejection that twist and distort the joy of the season into a garish spectacle. Instead of uplifting them in celebration, the most wonderful time of the year seems a cruel mockery.

For all of these, and many others, the Christmas season seems more like the opening verse of Christina Rossetti’s haunting Christmas hymn, “In the Bleak Midwinter.” In the bleak midwinter, frost wind made moan, earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone. All the excitement, anticipation, and beauty of the season can easily be frozen by pain, disappointment and grief; instead of singing songs of joy, a bitter moan emanates like the cold, frost-bitten wind.

Yet Christians still insist through the celebration of the Advent Season that it was into this world—the world of the bleakest midwinter—God arrived. Not sheltered from grief or pain, God descended into a world where poverty, violence, and grief were a daily part of God’s human existence in the person of Jesus. Joseph and Mary, barely teenagers, were poor, and Mary gave birth to the Messiah in a strange place far from her own home. Herod the Great used his power to slaughter all the male children who were in Bethlehem under the age of two. Shepherds slept on grassy hills, their nomadic homes. Even in Jesus’s public ministry, his cousin, John the Baptist, would be beheaded. Jesus would experience rejection and eventually die a criminal’s death, with only a few, grieving women remaining at his side.

Into this world—our world of bleak midwinter—God arrives. God arrives in the midst of pain and suffering, doubt and disappointment, longing and loneliness and makes a home with us, to be alongside of us. The Gospel of John tells us that God did not stay removed from us or from our sufferings, but that “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14). For those who find the Christmas season far from the “most wonderful time of the year,” Immanuel, God with us, comes to be with us in our bleak midwinter, and comes to offer consolation and care in the tears of those who weep with us when we weep.

Those who rejoice and who celebrate this season as the most wonderful time of the year can demonstrate that celebration in ways that take it far beyond lights, trees and presents.  The beauty, joy, and celebration of the season can be brought to those in bleak midwinter, as those who come alongside sharing in their suffering—doing our part, giving our all, sharing our hearts.

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

Hope in a Seemingly Hopeless Situation – Greg Laurie

 

It’s Christmas time.

Parents bundle up their children for another day of school before Christmas vacation starts in the small town of Newtown, Connecticut. There’s shopping to do and errands to run before they pick them up. Then the worst imaginable scenario takes place.

A young man walks into Sandy Hook Elementary School and begins shooting. When the horror finally stops, 20 children and 6 adults have been shot and killed. 12 little girls and 8 little boys had their lives cut short.

This is just heartbreaking.

What can be said at a time like this? The experts will opine on why this happened. All I can say is, this was pure evil. The heartlessness and wickedness of this man that did the shooting is really unimaginable.

I know from personal experience that the pain of losing a child is a fate worse than death for a parent.

At times like this we must reflect on the essential message of Christmas, which is Immanuel has come. Immanuel means God is with us.

I know God is there, ready to bring His comfort to those grieving right now in Connecticut. I know He is here right now to bring comfort to all of us who are heartbroken to hear such news.

At times like this, we need perspective—an eternal perspective.

We need to remember this life on earth is not all there is. There is an afterlife where earthy wrongs are righted. There is a final judgment for this man and others like him that commit these heinous crimes, and they will have to face God.

There is also great safety for those beautiful children, who I believe are all in Heaven right now, resting in the arms of Jesus. No harm will come to them again. Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these” (Matthew 19:14).

And there is comfort available to their parents, who are in the deepest valley of pain and grief right now. Yes, even at a time like this, there is hope. The hope is this: If that parent will put their trust in Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord they can have the assurance they will see their dear children again.

As King David said when his child died, “I will go to him one day, but he cannot return to me” (2 Samuel 12:23).

In the busyness of this season, I hope we all will take time to count our blessings. To let our children know that we love them and not take them for granted.

And I hope that we will remember that Jesus is there, Immanuel. He will bring His comfort to us as we trust in Him.

The Property of Tears – Ravi Zacharias

 

Five year-old Samantha was the victim of a cruel and tragic murder, and her own tears were the evidence that sealed the case against her abductor. “[S]he solved the crime,” said her young mother. “She was her own hero.”(1) DNA in the form of teardrops was found on the passenger-side door of the killer’s car, irrevocably making their mark on the crime scene and everyone who imagines them.

It is impossible to hear stories like this, of heinous murders, of calculated school shootings, without retreating to the deepest whys and hows of life. The abrupt ending to these lives is another wretched symptom of a sick and desperate world. The problem of evil is a problem that confronts us, sometimes jarringly. The problem of pain is only intensified by the personal nature of our experience with it.

The first time I heard Samantha’s story my numbed mind was startled by this property of tears. I had no idea that our tears were so personally our own. Samantha’s tears solved the case because there were none others like hers. They were unique to the eyes they came from, intricately a part of Samantha herself. In the pains and joys that cause us to weep and to mourn, we leave marks far more intimate than I ever realized. We shed evidence of our own makeup, leaving behind a complex, yet humble message: I was here, and my pain was real. There are a lot of really bad and unhelpful things that people say in the face of tragedy and particularly to those who mourn. For me this brings new meaning to the wisdom of being silent with the grief-striken, sharing tears instead of advice.

There is no doubt something deeply necessary about the Christian hope that pain will one day be removed and tears will be no more. We are rightly comforted by the image of heaven as the place where God will wipe away every tear from the eyes of the weeping. There is much hope in the promise that there will one day be no more death or mourning or crying or pain.(2) But perhaps there is first something deeply necessary about a God who has marked our tears so specifically even now, declaring that our pain is far from a generic or empty occurrence.

There is a line uttered by the psalmist that was comforting to my grandmother through many years of loss and life. To God the psalmist confesses, “You have kept count of my tossings, put my tears in your bottle” (Psalm 56:8). Tear-bottles were small urns of glass or pottery created to collect the tears of mourners at the funerals of loved ones. They were placed in the sepulchers at Rome and in Palestine where bodies were laid to rest. In some ancient tombs these bottles are found in great numbers, collecting tears that were shed with great meaning to the ones unique to them.

How assuring to know that our pain is not haphazardly viewed by the one who made tear ducts able to spill over with grief and anguish. God keeps count of our sorrowful struggling, each tear recorded and collected as pain steeped with the life of the one who wept it. Like a parent grieving at a child’s wound, God knows our laments more intimately than we realize.

But also more than a parent wiping eyes and collecting tears, God has shed tears of his own, taking on the limitations and sufferings of creation personally, declaring in body that embodiment is something God takes very seriously. In her book Creed or Chaos, Dorothy Sayers writes:

“For whatever reason God chose to make man as he is—limited and suffering and subject to sorrows and death—He had the honesty and the courage to take His own medicine… He has Himself gone through the whole of human experience, from the trivial irritations of family life and the cramping restrictions of hard work and lack of money to the worst horrors of pain and humiliation, defeat, despair and death. When He was a man, He played the man. He was born in poverty and died in disgrace and thought it well worthwhile.”(3)

I know of no equal comfort in the midst of life’s sorrows, no other answer within the problem of pain and evil. God has sent a Son as unique and personal as the very tears we shed crying out for answers and consolation. Every tear is marked with the intricacies of a Creator, every cry heard by one who wept at the grave of Lazarus, every lament collected in his bottle until the day when tears will indeed be no more.

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

(1) “Justice for Samantha,” People, June 06, 2005, Vol. 63, No. 22, pp. 73-74.

(2) Revelation 21:4.

(3) Dorothy Sayers, Creed or Chaos? (New York: Harcourt Brace, 1949), 4.

Charles Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

 

Morning    “Orpah kissed her mother in law; but Ruth clave unto her.” / Ruth 1:14

Both of them had an affection for Naomi, and therefore set out with her upon

her return to the land of Judah. But the hour of test came; Naomi most

unselfishly set before each of them the trials which awaited them, and bade

them if they cared for ease and comfort to return to their Moabitish friends.

At first both of them declared that they would cast in their lot with the

Lord’s people; but upon still further consideration Orpah with much grief and

a respectful kiss left her mother in law, and her people, and her God, and

went back to her idolatrous friends, while Ruth with all her heart gave

herself up to the God of her mother in law. It is one thing to love the ways

of the Lord when all is fair, and quite another to cleave to them under all

discouragements and difficulties. The kiss of outward profession is very cheap

and easy, but the practical cleaving to the Lord, which must show itself in

holy decision for truth and holiness, is not so small a matter. How stands the

case with us, is our heart fixed upon Jesus, is the sacrifice bound with cords

to the horns of the altar? Have we counted the cost, and are we solemnly ready

to suffer all worldly loss for the Master’s sake? The after gain will be an

abundant recompense, for Egypt’s treasures are not to be compared with the

glory to be revealed. Orpah is heard of no more; in glorious ease and

idolatrous pleasure her life melts into the gloom of death; but Ruth lives in

history and in heaven, for grace has placed her in the noble line whence

sprung the King of kings. Blessed among women shall those be who for Christ’s

sake can renounce all; but forgotten and worse than forgotten shall those be

who in the hour of temptation do violence to conscience and turn back unto the

world. O that this morning we may not be content with the form of devotion,

which may be no better than Orpah’s kiss, but may the Holy Spirit work in us a

cleaving of our whole heart to our Lord Jesus.

 

Evening   “And lay thy foundations with sapphires.” / Isaiah 54:11

Not only that which is seen of the church of God, but that which is unseen, is

fair and precious. Foundations are out of sight, and so long as they are firm

it is not expected that they should be valuable; but in Jehovah’s work

everything is of a piece, nothing slurred, nothing mean. The deep foundations

of the work of grace are as sapphires for preciousness, no human mind is able

to measure their glory. We build upon the covenant of grace, which is firmer

than adamant, and as enduring as jewels upon which age spends itself in vain.

Sapphire foundations are eternal, and the covenant abides throughout the

lifetime of the Almighty. Another foundation is the person of the Lord Jesus,

which is clear and spotless, everlasting and beautiful as the sapphire;

blending in one the deep blue of earth’s ever rolling ocean and the azure of

its all embracing sky. Once might our Lord have been likened to the ruby as he

stood covered with his own blood, but now we see him radiant with the soft

blue of love, love abounding, deep, eternal. Our eternal hopes are built upon

the justice and the faithfulness of God, which are clear and cloudless as the

sapphire. We are not saved by a compromise, by mercy defeating justice, or law

suspending its operations; no, we defy the eagle’s eye to detect a flaw in the

groundwork of our confidence–our foundation is of sapphire, and will endure

the fire.

The Lord himself has laid the foundation of his people’s hopes. It is matter

for grave enquiry whether our hopes are built upon such a basis. Good works

and ceremonies are not a foundation of sapphires, but of wood, hay, and

stubble; neither are they laid by God, but by our own conceit. Foundations

will all be tried ere long: woe unto him whose lofty tower shall come down

with a crash, because based on a quicksand. He who is built on sapphires may

await storm or fire with equanimity, for he shall abide the test.

The Greatest Gift of All – Greg Laurie

 

I heard that someone actually tried to calculate how much it would cost to give the gifts named in the classic Christmas song, “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” The grand total came to about $15,000.

Some items were affordable, like a partridge in a pear tree for $34.99. Six turtledoves will run you somewhere around $50. Six geese-a-laying will cost around $150.

But the price soars when you add 11 pipers piping. That is $1,000 right there. Then there are the 12 drummers drumming. With current union scale for musicians, they will run you another $1,000.

The price really soars when you get 12 lords-a-leaping. We are talking $3,000 for them. Granted, I don’t know where you would find them, but they are very expensive.

But the real message of Christmas is not the gifts we give each other. Rather, it is a reminder of the gift that God has given to each of us. It is the only gift that truly keeps on giving, so I want to point out four things about it.

First, it is surprising. When Christmas rolls around, you often try to figure out if certain people have bought that gift you really wanted. Maybe you already know what they bought, because they didn’t hide it very well. Or maybe you uncovered it by accident—or maybe not. But when the day comes and you open the present, you have to pretend you’re surprised. Yet all along, you knew what it was. God’s gift to us, however, was a complete surprise. It was not expected and, as you examine it more carefully, you realize how great a gift it actually was.

Second, God’s gift came to us in the humblest of wrappings. What would you think if you saw a gift under your Christmas tree that was wrapped in newspaper and tied up with string? At first, you would probably assume that a guy wrapped it.

But think about God’s gift to us. Jesus was not born in a palace of gold; He was born in a stable. He was clothed in rags. He was laid in a feeding trough. Yet these things do not, in any way, diminish the story of Christ’s birth. If anything, they help us realize the great sacrifice God made for us. God’s gift to humanity, the ultimate gift of eternal life through His Son, Jesus Christ, came in the simplest and humblest of wrappings.

Third, we don’t deserve this gift. At Christmas, we give gifts to the people we care about, the ones who have been kind to us over the past year, or the ones who have given us a gift first. We don’t give gifts to the person who has been slandering our name, or to the angry neighbor who never has a kind word to say. Yet God gave us His gift when we were His enemies. He didn’t give this gift to us because we deserved it. In fact, it was just the opposite. The Bible tells us, “But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8 NKJV).

Fourth, the gift tells us something about the giver. When you want to give someone a gift, you start thinking about it ahead of time. Hopefully, you try to find what that person wants or needs. When God decided to give us the gift of eternal life, it wasn’t something that He just thought of on the fly. Long before there was a town called Bethlehem, a garden called Eden, or a planet called Earth, a decision was made in eternity that God would send forth His Son, born of a woman, to redeem those who are under the law.

The Bible says that He was slain from the foundation of the world (see Revelation 13:8). Make no mistake about it: this gift that God has given to us was the most sacrificial thing He possibly could have offered.

So Christmas isn’t about those gifts that you have under your tree right now. All of those things will be gone one day. All that will be left after this life is the human soul, and that will live forever. We will put so much stock in what we have, but this is all going to pass away.

Life is about what happens beyond the grave. Life is about knowing the God who made you and who gave you the greatest gift you will ever receive.

Charles Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

 

Morning  “They go from strength to strength.” / Psalm 84:7

They go from strength to strength. There are various renderings of these

words, but all of them contain the idea of progress.

Our own good translation of the authorized version is enough for us this

morning. “They go from strength to strength.” That is, they grow stronger and

stronger. Usually, if we are walking, we go from strength to weakness; we

start fresh and in good order for our journey, but by-and-by the road is

rough, and the sun is hot, we sit down by the wayside, and then again

painfully pursue our weary way. But the Christian pilgrim having obtained

fresh supplies of grace, is as vigorous after years of toilsome travel and

struggle as when he first set out. He may not be quite so elate and buoyant,

nor perhaps quite so hot and hasty in his zeal as he once was, but he is much

stronger in all that constitutes real power, and travels, if more slowly, far

more surely. Some gray-haired veterans have been as firm in their grasp of

truth, and as zealous in diffusing it, as they were in their younger days;

but, alas, it must be confessed it is often otherwise, for the love of many

waxes cold and iniquity abounds, but this is their own sin and not the fault

of the promise which still holds good: “The youths shall faint and be weary,

and the young men shall utterly fall, but they that wait upon the Lord shall

renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles, they shall run

and not be weary, and they shall walk and not faint.” Fretful spirits sit down

and trouble themselves about the future. “Alas!” say they, “we go from

affliction to affliction.” Very true, O thou of little faith, but then thou

goest from strength to strength also. Thou shalt never find a bundle of

affliction which has not bound up in the midst of it sufficient grace. God

will give the strength of ripe manhood with the burden allotted to full-grown

shoulders.

 

Evening   “I am crucified with Christ.” / Galatians 2:20

The Lord Jesus Christ acted in what he did as a great public representative

person, and his dying upon the cross was the virtual dying of all his people.

Then all his saints rendered unto justice what was due, and made an expiation

to divine vengeance for all their sins. The apostle of the Gentiles delighted

to think that as one of Christ’s chosen people, he died upon the cross in

Christ. He did more than believe this doctrinally, he accepted it confidently,

resting his hope upon it. He believed that by virtue of Christ’s death, he had

satisfied divine justice, and found reconciliation with God. Beloved, what a

blessed thing it is when the soul can, as it were, stretch itself upon the

cross of Christ, and feel, “I am dead; the law has slain me, and I am

therefore free from its power, because in my Surety I have borne the curse,

and in the person of my Substitute the whole that the law could do, by way of

condemnation, has been executed upon me, for I am crucified with Christ.”

 

But Paul meant even more than this. He not only believed in Christ’s death,

and trusted in it, but he actually felt its power in himself in causing the

crucifixion of his old corrupt nature. When he saw the pleasures of sin, he

said, “I cannot enjoy these: I am dead to them.” Such is the experience of

every true Christian. Having received Christ, he is to this world as one who

is utterly dead. Yet, while conscious of death to the world, he can, at the

same time, exclaim with the apostle, “Nevertheless I live.” He is fully alive

unto God. The Christian’s life is a matchless riddle. No worldling can

comprehend it; even the believer himself cannot understand it. Dead, yet

alive! crucified with Christ, and yet at the same time risen with Christ in

newness of life! Union with the suffering, bleeding Saviour, and death to the

world and sin, are soul-cheering things. O for more enjoyment of them!