by Vera Schmitz
]]>Have you ever stopped to think about thinking? Have you ever considered the awe-inducing ability you have to be reading these words in this exact moment? I am convinced that if we knew the intricate details, the unbelievable odds, the perfect connections that must happen for me to write this and for you to read this, our minds would bend and nearly break—only to reason that it is possible that there might, just maybe, be a God.
And if there is a chance that there is a God, who is big enough, creative enough, and extraordinary enough to take the time to allow me the privilege of not only existing, but experiencing so many wonderful and beautiful feelings and emotions and sights and pleasures and thoughts—then is he not, at the very least, deserving of our consideration?
And when we begin to consider him, we might even find him bigger, more creative, and more curious than we initially thought possible. Everything we see and experience is so divinely complex. The good, the beautiful, the sad, the hard—it all cries of something more. Even our pain cries that God must be…there must be a reason for this or that, there must be an answer. All we see and feel and know cries out, God, you must be there!
And once we allow ourselves the permission to believe that he must be there, we are compelled to muster the courage to examine what he says about himself, and about us. Is it possible that there, in an ancient book, we might find a loving, all-powerful, all-knowing, all-good, just, merciful, perfect, and holy God? It takes courage, but we must look, because if he is all that he says he is, then he is worthy of our whole lives.
Why?
Because for what little we might know about God, we know a lot about ourselves. And we know, deep down, that we are not all-good, that we are not all-wise, that we mess up, and fall short, and disappoint, and are sad, sick, and hurting. If we are honest, we know at our best we are good-ish, and that we could never measure up to “good enough” before a perfectly perfect God. And what’s more, we know that no thing could ever “be enough” for the wide gaping holes we have in our lives. We know that this world isn’t right. Not even close. We ache for something more. Anything we find that is good in this world will always not quite measure up. We know us and the weight of what we are not and what we lack.
And yet, in his perfect love, God comes for us. He sees us, loves us, wants us, aches for us, and chooses us. When Jesus came, he measured up. Perfectly. And though he deserved heaven, he instead hung on a tree. He paid the ransom price for every shortcoming of the whole world—even every one of yours and every one of mine. With his death, he put to death every sin of every person who would only admit the truth they know: they indeed fall short and need a Savior. And when Jesus rose from the grave, he proved himself to be the one true victory over every shortcoming of the whole world—even every one of yours and every one of mine. He stands, victorious and with an invitation…he gladly removes every heavy thing we carry, and fills every hole in our heart. All we must do is admit our need and say yes to him.
I said yes. Years ago, as a worried, weary child. And I have received peace and confidence since that day, every single day, and for my forever. I do not know every intricate detail, the unbelievable odds, the perfect connections that must happen for me to write this, and for you to read this. But I do know what I have experienced: Jesus crowned as King of my life has brought me freedom, life, purpose, confidence, and peace. He could have stayed on the throne, but he chose instead to cast down his crown, to throw off his glory, not only to meet me, but to serve me, to be a sacrifice for me, to ransom me from my fear, doubt, and death itself. His peace is mine because I said yes.
I want that peace for you. Might you consider him?
]]>by Jen Oshman
]]>What’s your warning light? What is the emotion that, when it surfaces, you know it’s alerting you that maintenance is required? It’s the blinking light on the dashboard of your soul that tells you there’s a problem under the hood. It’s the feeling that says, “Danger is ahead if you don’t stop soon.”
My warning light is comparison followed by bitterness. Through years of serving my church and my family I have come to know I’m in trouble when my thoughts start to sound like, “I am working so hard here, what are they even doing?” Or, “Does anyone else even care? Does anyone else serve in this church? Does anyone else ever straighten up this home?”
When I begin to compare myself to others I always come out on top. The comparison leads to bitterness and the bright red light starts blinking. Each time I believe the lie that I am doing more and no one else cares, I know I’m in trouble and had better pull over and figure it out very soon.
Jesus’s words offer a firm and undeniable rebuke to my warning light, “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). Selfishness is bound to surface in all of us, but we don’t have to stay there. Here are five truths we can preach to ourselves when we tire of serving others:
If the Son of Man came to serve, so can we. In the gospels, others called Jesus the Son of God, but he usually referred to himself as the Son of Man. These two titles matter because Jesus is both truly God and truly human. Our Savior must be human, to be an acceptable substitute for us, and he must also be God, to be an acceptable and perfect sacrifice for us. The Son of Man title comes from Daniel 7, which says Jesus will come again “with the clouds of heaven” (Daniel 7:13) and the Father will give him “authority, glory and sovereign power; all nations and peoples of every language [will worship] him. His dominion [will be] an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom [will be] one that will never be destroyed” (Daniel 7:14). When Jesus calls himself “the Son of Man,” he’s saying that even though he deserves and will receive all glory, dominion, and worship as God, he came as a man to serve the people he created. If our all-powerful, all-good, and all-deserving Lord and Savior can condescend to serve us, we can certainly serve others.
We are not our own; we have been ransomed. Even though it’s uncomfortable, we cannot overstate our helpless situation prior to being rescued by Jesus. We were condemned to darkness, damned to hell, and dead in our sins (John 3:16–18, Ephesians 2:1–3, Romans 6:23). By God’s grace alone, we have been rescued from the dominion of darkness and brought into the kingdom of the beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins (Colossians 1:13–14). Because of his great kindness, mercy, and love, Jesus pursued you and me. He paid our ransom on the cross. We are not our own, we were bought at a price (1 Corinthians 6:19–20). Our Creator and Savior who came to serve has every right to require us to serve too.
Because Jesus served first, we can serve now. Christ—not those who receive our acts of service—is the reason we serve. We serve not because others deserve it, but because Jesus does. Our Savior who is perfect, sinless, and without any blemish endeavored to serve and save you and me—who are undeserving—before the creation of the world (Ephesians 1:4). Jesus saved us, not because we earned it in any way, but because of his immeasurable mercy. And he tells us to go and do likewise (Luke 10:37). We don’t serve our spouses, or kids, or church families because they ask nicely, behave rightly, or do anything to earn it. We serve them because Jesus asked us to, and he is worthy of our obedience and sacrifice.
We are empowered to serve others by Jesus who lives in us. Anyone who has tried knows serving others out of sheer grit and will power inevitably fails. As Christians, we have the privilege of serving others out of the supernatural power of Christ in us. As new creatures saved by Jesus, Paul says for all of us, “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (Galatians 2:20). Every time we serve we can call on Jesus and ask him to serve through us. He will answer that prayer.
Serving is counterintuitively for our joy. It goes against our flesh and our culture to sacrifice our time and efforts for others. But the good life is actually found when we lay our own lives down. Jesus said, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me and for the gospel will save it” (Mark 8:34–35). When we lose our lives in service—when we walk in the footsteps of the God who made us and died to save us—we actually find them.
When my warning light goes off—comparison that leads to bitterness—I know I can nurse those emotions and let them fester. I can keep score, come out on top, and turn against my family and my church. And at times, I confess, I do.
Our memory verse this month implores me to fix my eyes on Jesus and to follow after him. “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). May you and I remember Jesus is the Son of Man who is worthy of all power, dominion, worship, and glory and yet he came to serve us. May we remember that we are not our own and that because Jesus lives in us we can serve others, even when it’s hard. And finally, may we remember that serving others is actually for our joy.
Serving others does not come naturally to any of us. In and of ourselves, we drift toward convenience, security, and comfort. But as followers of Jesus, we are not given the option to maintain the status quo of our flesh and our culture. Christ calls us to serve, as he served. And because of him, we can.
]]>by Natalie Abbott
]]>
This is the best news you’ll ever hear:
Jesus came to serve you and to save you. He didn’t come because he needed to be served by you, like so many other gods, philosophies, and systems. He wasn’t in need of anything you could do for him, because (like we learned last month) he doesn’t need anything. He came not because he needed something from you but to give everything to you. And that same Jesus, who is holy and worthy of being served, came humbly to serve the people he himself created and sustains—people who know they’re helpless to live as they should, people who will reach out to him and rely on him to serve them and save them. He came to wash you clean, to make you new, to give you life, and every good thing—most especially his love. This is the gospel of Jesus Christ—the best news for every honest sinner who would humbly receive it.
But do you want it?
I know it might seem like a silly question after giving you the “best news ever.” Who wouldn’t want that?! I’m only asking because it’s the underlying question that Jesus is asking in the passage where we find our verse. Consequently, it’s the question he’s asking us: “Do you really want me, or do you want something else more?” In order to find those answers (both in the text and for ourselves), we’re going to briefly look at the three interactions Jesus has with people who either want him most or something else. (Want a more in-depth explanation? Subscribe to our podcast so you won’t miss this Wednesday’s Deep Dive into the verse.)
Jesus or money?
In the first interaction from the book of Mark we’ll look at today, we see the struggle in our human hearts between Jesus and financial security. A rich young man comes to Jesus asking what he must do to inherit eternal life. To this, Jesus says, “You know the commandments” (Mark 10:19), and he proceeds to list some out. The young man says, “all these I have kept since I was a boy” (Mark 10:20). Jesus then looks on him with love and exposes what this young man cannot see in himself: “‘One thing you lack,’ he said. ’Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me’” (Mark 10:21). But, the young man wants his financial security more than he wants Jesus, so he goes away sad. The pull of wealth is so strong on our hearts, isn’t it? Jesus goes on to tell his disciples that it’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich person to be saved. His disciples wonder, “Who then can be saved?” (Mark 10:26). Jesus tells them it’s impossible, but with God it is possible. But how? He tells them (and us) in his next interaction.
Jesus or prestige?
In the next interaction, Jesus is pictured on his way to Jerusalem with his 12 disciples. He has just explicitly predicted his impending death and resurrection when James and John come to him with a request. They want the most prestigious positions in his coming kingdom (on his right and left hand). And when the other disciples hear about it, they are steaming-hot mad. Why? They want that prestige for themselves. They want other people to look up to them and serve them. They feel entitled to those places of glory, like they deserve it after everything they’ve done to serve Jesus.
But Jesus doesn’t offer them prestige in return for their service, instead he explains that he didn’t come to be served, but to serve them. He doesn’t need their service, but they desperately need his. It is impossible for them to save themselves, but he has a solution, he will work the impossible on their behalf. Jesus says, “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45).
Jesus lived the perfect life and gave his life as a ransom (or payment) for the sins of the many. We deserve death, but he offers us his life. Moreover, he deserves our service, but instead he served us, though we were undeserving and disobedient. This is the best message, the very thing we need. But how do we receive it? We’ll find out in the next interaction.
Jesus or self-sufficiency?
In the final interaction, we meet Bartimaeus, a blind beggar. Unlike the rich man who clings to his wealth or the disciples who barter for prestige, Bartimaeus has nothing. He comes to Jesus in faith asking him to do what he knows only Jesus can do: restore his sight. Did you get that? He comes in faith, asking Jesus to serve him—the very thing Jesus has come to do. So Jesus heals him, telling him, “Your faith has healed you” (Mark 10:52). And Bartimaeus, this blind nobody, starts his faith journey, following the one who served him. This is how we come to Jesus. We come empty handed, not holding tight to what we already have, or grasping for what he can give. No, we come to Jesus for Jesus. He is our greatest need, and he is willing to give us precisely what we need: himself.
In light of all of that I have to ask: Who are you most like?
by Natalie Abbott
]]>Oh Jesus,
Everything is yours—all of it. You own it all. You made it all. All of it is from you, and through you, and for you. And you hold it all together. I know this is true, and I believe it deep in my heart.
But not quite all of it.
Maybe in the 98%, in the big things, like where I live or what I do. But there’s that lurking 2% (or maybe 12). It’s that dark corner of my heart that is gripping tight onto that one last thing, the part I just don’t trust you with, Jesus. Because it’s mine—mine to worry about, to fear and to guard, to relentlessly seek solutions for and to control with all my efforts. It’s that really hard thing I just keep holding on to, holding back from you, and holding myself together through. I lie about it to myself and others, “It’s okay. I’ll be fine,” that is if I talk about it at all. It’s too vulnerable to be honest about, too scary to even give to you, Jesus. When I think of it, I feel stranded on a precipice, beaten by the storm, afraid of the waves crashing below me. And I sway under the weight of this burden I refuse to put down. I worry about losing footing. I feel all alone and desperate.
But I’m not.
You’re always right there. In fact, you’re right here with me now, whispering these words, “I am before all things, and in me all things hold together.” Yes. You are. You see, you know, and you care. I know it’s true. O help me believe it in my heart! And you are the only one who’s capable and good enough to take my burden and hold it for me. And in truth, it’s actually yours, you’ve always held it, regardless of my delusions of holding it all by myself. You bear the weight of it, as only you can, and you lean over and ask me to let go, you’ve already got it. And even now you are powerfully working it out (with all things) for my good and for your glory!
Oh Jesus, I want to let go of it!
Help me trust you with this one thing I’m gripping tightly—my 2%. Lord, please forgive me for holding on to any delusion that I can hold it together on my own (either in pride or in despair). Release me from my false control. Reconcile my mind with the truth and my heart with you. Jesus, you are my true heart, my deepest joy, my ultimate hope—not this world or any outcome in it. Fill my soul with peace as I trust you to light up this dark corner of my heart and make it more in love with you.
Amen.
]]>by Jen Oshman
]]>Do you know what syncretism is? Do you know if you’re guilty of it?
Syncretism is when different beliefs or practices from one religion are blended with another. The result is that neither religion maintains its integrity and a new belief system is born.
If your reaction to my question of guilt was an immediate and strong, “No, I’m not a syncretist! I’m a Christian!” I can relate. That’s my reflex too. In truth, though, syncretism is sneaky.
When the Apostle Paul wrote his letter to the Colossians, it was to address syncretism in their churches. When he said of Jesus, “He is before all things, and in him all things hold together” (Colossians 1:17) it was to combat syncretism. A major theme of Paul’s letter, which we need to receive along with the Colossians, is Christ alone, by grace alone, through faith alone.
Remember What Jesus Is Like
If you want a worshipful reading experience, read Colossians 1. The whole chapter is Paul worshiping Christ and putting the gospel on glorious display. Take time to soak especially in verses 15–20. In the six verses that are Colossians 1:15–20 we see that Jesus is:
Friends, this is our God! Just look at that list!
Jesus is indeed supreme over all. We are saved by and serve an all-powerful and all-good God. It’s no wonder Paul started his letter like this. It’s as if he’s saying to the Colossians, “Remember, brothers and sisters, this is your Lord and Savior. This is what he’s like. Worship him!” Christ alone, by grace alone, through faith alone.
Syncretism Then
Chapter 2 of Colossians gives us some insight into the syncretism at Colossae. Paul warns them not to be taken captive by hollow and deceptive philosophies, human traditions, or spiritual forces (v. 8). Getting more specific, he warns them:
These specific warnings may feel foreign to our context, but the heart behind the warnings are immediately applicable to you and me. Numerous human traditions and spiritual forces seek to win us over even now.
Jesus + Anything = Nothing
Paul’s warning to the Colossians and to us is Jesus plus anything equals nothing. We are saved by Christ alone, by grace alone, through faith alone.
Christ is holding everything together. If we insist on adding something, on doing something, on believing that something or someone must help Jesus hold everything together, then we make the gospel null and void.
While we may easily assent to the truth that we are saved only by Jesus, it is so easy—even automatic—to turn to man-made efforts for growth in our faith. In our current age of extreme self-sufficiency, most of us struggle with this. It’s the cultural air we breathe. It’s the tendency of our flesh to thank Jesus for his salvation, but then turn to ourselves for anything else.
It’s as if we say to our Maker and Savior, “Thank you for saving me, but I’ve got it from here, Lord.” This is syncretism. And it is sneaky.
Syncretism Now
There are probably a hundred ways a day I believe I am the one holding everything together, or at least helping Jesus to do so. I subconsciously sideline my God and I look to tangible practices and tools that I can grab ahold of. Here are some ways I see myself and others seeking to assist Jesus as he’s holding everything together:
This is syncretism. These practices, in and of themselves, are not inherently bad. It’s okay to save money, pursue safety for your kids, and to build healthy habits. But when we put our hope and trust in them, instead of Jesus—or in addition to Jesus—we unknowingly add to the gospel.
Can you relate? Do you confess, “He is before all things, and in him all things hold together” (Colossians 1:17), but also add a little extra something just to be sure? If you were to lose your wealth or health or child or reputation, can you honestly say you would be okay, because Jesus is holding everything—including you and every detail of your life—together?
Syncretism was sneaky in Colossae and it’s sneaky right here, right now. In our flesh, we humans continuously want to add to God’s Word, to the gospel, to the work of our Maker and Savior.
Jesus Is Holding Everything, So You Don’t Have To
Friends, the syncretism of our day is exhausting. Paul said to the Colossians and he says to us, these practices “have an appearance of wisdom… but they lack any value” (Colossians 2:23). Clenching our fists and our teeth to curate the perfect life looks strong and wise and necessary. But you and I are not God. We do not have the wisdom to know what’s best and we do not have the power to conjure it up.
In grabbing hold of the wisdom of this world, in seeking to add to the work of Christ, we participate in the syncretism of our age. Let’s be honest. Let’s take stock of our habits and our thoughts: do we really believe Jesus is holding everything together? Are we accidentally adding to his efforts? Are we exhausted and stressed and living beyond our means because we think it’s (even partially) on us to hold everything together?
The good news of Colossians and the good news of Jesus is that “He is before all things, and in him all things hold together” (Colossians 1:17). It’s Christ alone, by grace alone, through faith alone and it always has been. You and I cannot add to this blessed equation. ]]>by Vera Schmitz
]]>A reminder for myself (and anyone else who needs it) when I am trying to hold it all together:
You did not create the heavens.
You did not send the planets spinning.
You did not breathe life into a single human body.
You do not shift the tides morning and night, morning and night.
You did not call the sun up over the horizon again today.
You do not march millions of ants up and down tiny hills.
You do not monitor the slow-moving growth of an individual leaf budding out of a tiny new tree.
You do not see all or know all.
You aren’t before it, or after it, and you do not hold it all together in the in between.
And thank God you don’t.
God does.
He is the maker.
He sets in motion.
He is life.
He controls and directs.
He is the rhythm by which everything else sets its time.
He sustains.
He patiently watches over.
He sees. And knows.
And he is able.
Thank God he does and is, so you don’t have to do and be.
You can rely on his power.
You can trust his ways are creative and wild and good.
You can know he has purpose for you.
You can count on his steadiness.
You can depend on his faithfulness.
You can expect his care for you.
You can place your hope in his presence with you.
Today, right now, be convinced that this word is trustworthy to believe in:
“He is before all things, and in him all things hold together" (Colossians 1:17).
What’s Your Answer to One of Life’s Biggest Questions?
by Natalie Abbott]]>“Who is Jesus to you?” A complete stranger asked me this recently at my local Walmart. And I have to admit, even though I’m a pastor’s wife and Bible teacher, it took me by surprise. For one thing, I was in the middle of smelling deodorant. Weird? Yes. But I never can seem to remember the right name of the one my husband uses without my nose. So there I was, deodorant in hand, when this older woman approached me and asked:
“Who is Jesus to you?”
I thought to myself, “How do I answer that question in the middle of the personal hygiene aisle at Walmart and do it any justice? I could spend hours, days even, telling you about who Jesus is. Not just who he is, but who he is to me. Jesus is my heartbeat, my anchor, my light, my dearest and most constant friend. He has walked with me through every dessert, shown me mountain vistas, and lit my path through deep woods. Jesus has held my hand in hospitals and met me prostrate on the floor. Jesus is my everything, my very life. Without him, I am void of every good thing, without hope and without God in the world."
But, I didn’t say any of that.
I merely said, “Jesus is God. He’s my Savior and the Lord of my life.” She agreed with me, and moved on fairly quickly (l saw her shortly after talking to a man looking at vitamins). It was odd, to be sure. But as I’ve continued to reflect on that interaction, I realize that while the timing was strange, that woman was asking a good question—one that is both based on facts and deeply felt, one I want to ask you today:
“Who is Jesus to you?”
Actually, don’t answer that yet. Before you do, I want to first remind you who Jesus is, not just personally, but universally. Because this isn’t a question any of us really can answer experientially without first grounding our answer in the truth of who Jesus actually is—the Jesus we see revealed in Scripture. In our memory verse and the surrounding passage, this is exactly what we see. It’s one of the most beautiful, compact, and even poetic examples in all of Scripture of the majesty and wonder of Jesus, the Son of God. I want to read it together, consider it, and in light of it, ask you that question one more time. Here’s Colossians 1:15–20:
The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.
Who is Jesus? The tangible, visible image of the invisible God.
Who is Jesus? The firstborn heir and rightful owner of all the things he created with the Father.
Who is Jesus? The one for whom all things were made—everything you see and everything you don’t, every furthest planet, every unseen spiritual creature, and every human heart, all of it was made for him!
Who is Jesus? The one holding all of it together, sustaining and maintaining, intimately and infinitely upholding all things by the word of his power.
Who is Jesus? The one who deserves only worship and wonder. Yet, we did not give it. Instead, we spurned the one who made and sustains all things, and we broke it all.
Who is Jesus? The one who could have started over, but didn’t—he entered his creation not to condemn it, but to serve and sacrifice and spill his blood to make all things right again.
This is Jesus—who brought us peace and offers it to all who would believe in him. So let me ask you one more time:
Who is Jesus to you?
If Jesus is all of this, then do you really live like it’s true? Has Jesus, who entered into creation, entered into your heart? Do you live like Jesus, who is Lord over all things, is Lord of your daily life? Do you live for the one whom you were made for? If he is before all things, do you put him before all things in your own life and heart? Do you ask the one who holds all things together to hold all of your things—your worries, your fears, your hopes and dreams?
For me, the answer is no. And yes. And sometimes.
I wish I could say, “Yes! Emphatically! Without reservation and all of the time.” But honestly, I can’t. What I know is true and how I live don’t always match up. But even in my failure and trying, Jesus meets me with mercy, with the offer of reconciliation and renewal, with the power of the Spirit to help me live out what I believe to be true.
Friend, I hope as you meditate on and memorize Colossians 1:17 this month that Jesus himself would meet you in it. I hope that it would not just challenge your heart but comfort and encourage you. Jesus, who is Lord over all, holding all things together, is offering to hold you, to help you, and to give you peace. May it be that we would take him honestly and gratefully at his good word, allowing it to change us one day at a time.
]]>I don’t know about you, but I’ve really benefited this month from closely examining and meditating on Romans 12:12: “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.” At the outset I said, “Yes!!! I want my life to look like this!” But as a stand-alone list of commands, I had to admit the overwhelming impossibility of it. I can’t be joyful in all of my unknowns or patient in my pain or constant in prayer…not on my own. Yet, each week as we’ve turned this verse over and over in our minds and dug into the context, we’ve discovered that God himself motivates and empowers us to live this out! In the first week, we sorted through our vulnerable hopes and discovered that when our ultimate hope is in Jesus, we can be joyful in a hope that will never fail us. Last week, we discovered the secret to being patient (and even rejoicing) in affliction. How? God himself makes it possible, because we know he will ultimately end our suffering, and even now he uses it to grow us in godliness and hope! And this week, we come to our final command:
“Be…faithful in prayer.”
Again, it seems like too much. How can we possibly do this? How do we come to God again and again—faithfully trusting him with all of our longings and all of the things we long to be done with? Can both our hopes and our suffering find a satisfying vent in our prayers? This is the final command in our verse, and it’s one that, if we’re honest, we know we could never live out in our own strength. But as we’ve already discovered, if God commands the impossible, then God himself will work the impossible in us.
God makes faithful prayer possible.
I’ve mentioned before that our little verse with three rapid-fire commands is a reference back to what Paul has already taught about being joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer throughout his letter to the church in Rome. This week, we’re going to look at a portion of Romans 8 and follow Paul’s logic as he talks us through hope, affliction, and prayer.
Let’s see what he has to teach us.
We are a waiting people—waiting in hope and waiting through suffering. We wait in hope for all of creation to be restored. We wait in hope for God to redeem and renew our bodies. We wait in hope for Jesus—our ultimate hope—who saved us and will return for us. This is the hope we wait for as we wait through suffering. Right now we wait through sin and death in the world and in ourselves—groaning with creation for restoration, longing for face-to-face union with God. In our waiting for and waiting through, we do not wait alone.
God waits with us.
God has given us his own Spirit to be with us in the waiting. He lives in us, seeing all that we see, present to help in our every hardship, and joining with us in our longing for all things to be made right! And when we are broken, when we come to the end of ourselves, not knowing what to say or how to pray, he is there with us, praying for us. He is faithfully praying for us when we don’t have the words. Though we are uncertain, his every prayer is in line with God’s will. Though we don’t even know what to ask, his every request is exactly what we need. We are weak and even faithless, but we can be faithful in prayer when we rely on the Holy Spirit who is always faithful in prayer on our behalf. Who is like our God—meeting our every impossibility in himself? Knowing this should fuel our desire to faithfully show up in prayer, even when we don’t know what to pray.
We can trust God with our prayers.
One final word about prayer: God is God, and God is good. Because God is God, he is all-powerful, capable of doing whatever he likes—which would be horrific if he were not also good. But, God is good, so we can trust him to work his infinite power for good. Romans 8:28 tells us, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” This God, whom we have seen again and again work impossibilities in us through his power, will one day reveal his glory fully, reworking every hardship, every sin, every evil for good. Can you even imagine?! A world where we no longer wait through suffering. A world where our hopes are obsolete because all of them have been met in God himself. It feels impossible, and yet we have seen that our God does the marvelous and impossible—enabling us to “be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer” (Romans 12:12). More than that, he saves and adopts rebels (even me), giving us a place in his family and his coming glory. “What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things” (Romans 8:31-32)? This is our generous, glorious, powerful, good God. How can we not put all of our hopes in him, trusting him with our suffering, and faithfully going to him in prayer?
]]>by Natalie Abbott
]]>Note to the reader who is suffering:
As I write this and think about you, I realize that these words will probably fall far short of your needs. If I was your friend, if I was privileged enough to know your struggle, these are not the words I would say to you right now in the middle of your pain. Instead, I would listen to you, cry with you, and pray with you. Yes, at some point I would likely offer you advice on enduring this difficult season. But it would be at a time when you could hear it and receive it. And frankly, now may not be that time for you. If you do choose to keep reading, I pray it will minister to you in some small way.
Be patient in affliction.
This is a command. From God. For me and you. God is asking us to patiently endure when we suffer. And honestly, it feels like a lot. Last week we talked about another tall order: being joyful in hope. We saw how difficult joy can be in our vulnerable position as people who have no control over the things we hope for. But we discovered that joy is possible when our ultimate hope is in Jesus. Today, we’re going to tackle the next command in our verse: be patient in affliction. And realistically, this next command feels like we just leveled up significantly in terms of difficulty.
How do we patiently endure affliction?
Sheesh. It’s a really tough question, one I’ve been struggling with for days…and the practice of which I’ve been struggling my whole life to live out. So know that I’m not an expert! I’m just another ordinary believer trying to understand and live out God’s commands. What I can say at the outset is this: if God commands it, he will enable it. This is a truth we can squarely stand on (one we saw hold true last week). Knowing this, we're going to look again into Paul’s letter to the Romans to find out how God enables us to patiently endure affliction.
How can we have hope in hardship?
Last week, I told you that Paul intentionally put the string of commands in Romans 12:12 together because they are interrelated. In two other places in his letter (Romans chapters 5 and 8), Paul talks about hope and suffering together. We’re going to look at Romans 5 today to answer two questions: How are hope and suffering (seemingly opposite concepts) related? How can we be patient in our afflictions? Let’s read the following passage with those questions in mind:
In verses 2 and 3 we see the repetition of the phrase “we rejoice in”—”we rejoice in hope of the glory of God” and “we rejoice in our sufferings.” How can we be joyful in hope and suffering? Paul tells us that our joy is rooted in our salvation. Because Jesus has given us peace with God, and we right now stand in grace (no longer in condemnation for our sins), we can rejoice! We rejoice in the future hope that our glorious God will one day return and make all things right and until that wonderful day, we can even rejoice in our present struggles. Why? Because this is not the end of the story! Paul later says, “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed in us” (Romans 8:18, ESV). We can have joy because we know that our suffering will only last a night, but a new day is coming when all our tears will be wiped away by our Savior.
But what about our right-now afflictions?
Do we just hold onto future hope and patiently endure? Or is there more for us in our suffering? Is God at work in us now as we suffer? If we keep reading in our passage, we see that we don’t merely rejoice because we know our suffering has an expiration date. We rejoice because we know that God works even our suffering for our good. Paul tells us that our suffering is like a training ground, increasing our ability to patiently endure. Did you catch that? The very thing he commands in Romans 12:12—to be patient in affliction—is precisely what affliction creates in the Christian: patience. Moreover, as we grow in patient endurance from our hardships, it deepens our good character. We become more like Jesus when we suffer like he suffered for us. And as we grow in Christlike character, we also grow in confidence that our hopes will be met in Jesus. So, our suffering makes us patient, and our patience makes us more like Jesus, and our Christlike character produces hope! Suffering produces even more hope in us! Hope in Jesus. Hope that does not put us to shame, but overflows with joy, because our God has loved us and saved us and given us his own Spirit to guide us through our present suffering and back to himself.
I don’t know about you, but I need this twofold message of joy in my own suffering! I need to know that God himself will end all suffering and make all things right, and that he is working even now through my suffering to make me right! This is the hope I need—a future hope to help me see past my suffering and a right-now hope that increases even as I suffer.What a great verse for the new year! “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer” (Romans 12:12). It’s a triad of short, hopeful goodness that we all want to be true of our lives. And as we look ahead at the coming year, what better words could we have than these on the tips of our tongues and rattling around in our heads and hearts? Who doesn’t want to focus on concepts like joy or hope or patience or prayer? At first glance, these seem like light and easy possibilities, and yet as I’ve stooped down to investigate them, as I’ve labored to pick them up and roll them over in my mind, I’ve found them quite heavy and even burdensome. How could words like joy and hope be so weighty?
As I think about my own life, my own hopes and dreams, my hard things, my long-term prayers, I have to confess that these commands challenge my heart. They aren’t simple phrases, simply done. Instead, they are gritty and deep. They make me wonder how I can grab hold of joy as I wait for unfulfilled hopes, how I can endure the harder things in life with grace-filled patience, and how I can honestly and faithfully go to God again and again and give him all my long-term longings.
Are you starting to feel the weight of it too? These words can feel impossibly weighty for us, yet we know from Scripture that God never commands something he doesn’t also enable. So that’s where we’re going: to Scripture, the very words of God, to find out how we can live like this. Today, and in the following two weeks, we’re going to take each phrase in turn. We’re going to discover the secret to being joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer.
Can we find joy in our "not yets" and "nevers"?
“Be joyful in hope.” This is our first command. Yes, it’s a command. And honestly, I can’t imagine telling someone to do this—someone who’s in the very thick of waiting, someone who’s longing for something that hasn’t yet happened (and may never happen). I can’t even create joy in my own soul, so how can I say to someone else, “Be joyful in hope”? And yet, here it is. Thankfully, I’m not the one commanding it, God is. And if it’s coming from him, we know it must be wise and for our ultimate good. It must be the very thing our souls need as they wait in hope.
We need joy.
Hoping is human, but I’d argue that being joyful in hope is divine. We’re accustomed to hoping for things we don’t yet see or experience. In fact, we really do live in a constant state of hoping—waiting for that thing, hoping for the best outcome, longing for a better way. Our lives and our livelihoods are tied up in ceaselessly veiled uncertainties, and when we really consider it, it can make us feel incredibly vulnerable. We can easily slip into despair, get tangled up in worry, and even break under the magnitude of the endless possibilities of our hopes. We need a better way, we need joy! But who can muster up lasting joy in the face of uncertainty? In our own strength, it’s impossible. And yet, God says, “Be joyful in hope.” How can God demand the impossible from us?
God must make the impossible possible.
And this is exactly what we find in the whole letter of Romans. In it, God himself is continually making the impossible possible! He brings dead things to life, makes enemies into friends, turns sinners into saints, and we see that he also gives joy in uncertainty. We see this joyful hope expounded on in two specific places in the letter: chapters 5 and 8. Our verse is just a shorthand reference back to these explanations. We’re only going to tackle one of them here, but you can listen to this podcast episode for a fuller explanation of both.
In Romans 5, Paul tells us where our joyful hope is rooted. He says, “Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God” (Romans 5:1–2, ESV, emphasis mine). Did you hear that?! This is the reason for our joyful hope: God has done the impossible on our behalf. Though we deserve condemnation and alienation, through faith in Jesus we’ve been given peace with God and access to his grace. How can we not be joyful in this hope? And our joy is safe because our ultimate and foundational hope is based on the unchanging glory of God.
But what about all of our right-now hopes?
What does this mean for them? Surely, the most significant hope we have is in the fully-realized, forever, face-to-face relationship with our Savior God. But does this greatest hope dwarf our current hopes into insignificance? Or perhaps this ultimate hope somehow informs our right-now unfulfilled hopes and gives us joy in them? As I was pondering these questions, I made a list of all of my right-now hopes, and tried to see them through the lens of my greatest hope in Jesus.
This little exercise answered my questions entirely.
Let me elaborate. I wrote out a list of all my hopes and dreams and goals for the coming year. Then I went through each item on the list and next to each one I wrote, “Jesus, my hope is in you.” I wanted to see each hope through the lens of my greatest hope. And do you know what happened? I was comforted, challenged, and changed. I was comforted in so many of my hopes, seeing relationships and situations through the lens of my only true hope: Jesus. I was challenged as I realized I had placed false hopes in things like vacations or time with family. As I saw them through the lens of Jesus, I was able to reorient my hope. And finally, I was changed as I realized there were hopes on my list that were no hope at all, just hollow promises of happiness. I realized that filtering my right-now hopes through the lens of my greatest hope helps me see them rightly and even find joy in them. This is what I learned:
All of my current hopes find their truest and final fulfillment in Jesus.
On the most recent episode of the Dwell Differently podcast, I chatted with Doug McKelvey and Andrew Peterson about Romans 12:12, and Doug’s words about why we can have hope even in the midst of struggle were so poignant: He said:
It’s only to the degree that we remember and cling to the person and promises of Jesus that it’s possible to be joyful when we don’t have the thing that we so long for, or to be patient in the midst of affliction, or to continue faithfully in prayer…all of those things only make sense in the context of a relationship and an expectation that this is not the end.
Amen. We need to see our right-now reality through the lens of our future hope.
What about you?
Are you living like the ending of the story is already true? What are your hopes for the coming year? I’d encourage you to write them down. Then, next to each hope, write: “Jesus, my hope is in you.” See if you aren’t comforted, challenged, and changed in your perspective and priorities. And see if you don’t start to realize and grasp hold of the joy that is yours in your greatest hope, Jesus.
]]>What did 2023 hold for you? What were the highs, lows, unexpected gifts, and surprising sorrows of the last twelve months?
For me, three friends—who all also happened to be young husbands—passed away, two very suddenly and one after a years-long battle with innumerable diagnoses, scans, and torturous treatments. Two more too-young girlfriends received breast cancer diagnoses. One of my daughters got engaged. Another graduated high school and went away to college. My church family fasted and prayed for a miracle and we now bear witness to God granting that miracle in the life of one of our precious babies.
The Lord brought life and death, beauty and sorrow, delight and suffering, and everything in between over the last year. When I think about what 2024 might hold, I get lost in wonder. What will we celebrate? What will we mourn? What will render us speechless? What will we look upon with awe and gratitude?
Our memory verse this month lays a firm foundation for all of us, come what may. Whether we receive unspeakably good news or we are hit with breathtaking grief, this verse will meet us right where we are. It’s always good, right, and useful to “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer” (Romans 12:12).
Not Pithy Advice
Paul wrote these words in his letter to the first-century church at Rome, to believers who lived in a dangerous time and place to be Christ-followers. At best, the first Christians faced being outcasts and rejected by their families and communities, and at worst they were martyred by the powers that be in the Roman Empire. To claim Christ as King was to risk marginalization, imprisonment, torture, and even death.
Both Paul and his first recipients endured hardships likely more extreme than you and I can imagine. So when he tells the Romans to Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer, he’s not saying, Chin up, it’ll be ok, or You got this! This is no pithy advice.
The letter to the Romans is lengthy and rich. Pastors spend years expositing it verse by verse. It helps, then, to know the context of this three-fold command. Chapter 12 begins with the exhortation to “offer your bodies as a living sacrifice” (v. 1). The next paragraph points to the unity and diversity of the Christians who “though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others” (v. 5). The third paragraph in the chapter is where we find our verse. Each command in this paragraph is marked by love in action: love sincerely, hate evil, be devoted to one another, honor one another, share with those who have need (v. 9, 10, 13). The chapter concludes with two paragraphs instructing the Roman Christians and all Christians to bless those who persecute us (v. 17), to live at peace (v. 18), to not take revenge (v. 19), and to overcome evil with good (v. 21).
All of chapter 12 calls all Christians to radical sacrifice, forgiveness, and love. Imagining how Paul and his first recipients put these commands to practice under the violent and anti-Christian hand of the early Roman Empire gives me chills. How did they do it? How can we do it? Whether it’s possible imprisonment in ancient Rome, facing a terrible loss today, or even navigating inconveniences or celebrating victories, how can we be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer?
In View of God’s Mercy, We Can Do This
This threefold command feels impossible. I trend toward the very opposite: I am more likely to despair in cynicism (rather than to be joyful in hope), be irritated (not patient) in affliction, and clamor for a solution that I can conjure up with my own efforts and actions (before I consider being faithful in prayer). While God’s commands may run counter to our flesh, we can be assured that they are always and only for our good. He is our Maker and our Savior. He is for us.
Paul instructs us to obey these commands, “in view of God’s mercy” (Romans 12:1). When we view God’s mercy, we view the cross. We remember Christ who willingly left the glory and honor of heaven to come down and rescue you and me. We view our Savior—truly God and truly man—who gave himself up for us, trading the payment we deserve for our sins with his righteousness. When we wonder if God is for us, we must only look to the cross. He is merciful beyond measure.
So then, it’s in view of God’s mercy that we can be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer. It’s when we remember Christ’s life, death, resurrection, and his coming again, that we can do this. All of Romans 12—really, all of the New Testament and all of God’s Word—is a call to walk in the footsteps of our Savior, which is only possible with his indwelling Spirit within us.
We love because Christ first loved us. We carry our crosses, because Jesus carried his first. We lay ourselves down, because Jesus did so first. It’s in view of his mercy, and by his Spirit, we can obey.
Let’s Keep Coming Back
Friends, life is hard. These commands are hard. Would you spend time with us at Dwell Differently this month as we ponder this threefold command together? Would you consider with us how to respond in practical and tangible ways?
Come back next week to consider what it might look like to be joyful in hope. Come back in two weeks to envision together what it might look like to be patient in our suffering. And finally, meet us here at the end of the month to imagine how we might be faithful to pray the same prayer for years.
Who knows what 2024 will hold? You and I do not, but our God does. Whether we face tremendous highs or horrific lows, our God is for us. He will help us be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer. No matter what lies ahead, we can stand secure—in view of his mercy.
]]>Six years ago, Dwell Differently sent out our very first month of verse kits in the mail. Six years means 72 months. That’s 72 verses we’ve committed to pressing into our hearts and minds. We get feedback sometimes in the Facebook comment section that one little verse isn’t enough and that we “should” be doing more. But here is what I’ve learned in six years: Consistency doing the small things over time produces a beautiful harvest.
When I feel anxious, which I do sometimes, the words of Psalm 116:7 (our July 2021 verse) always come flooding into my mind and I remind myself to “Return to your rest, my soul, for the LORD has been good to you.”
When I feel overwhelmed by circumstances, and I find myself gripping at control that is out of my reach, I think back to our June 2019 verse and remind my heart and hands that “The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still” (Exodus 14:14).
When the world around me seems just too dark, too lonesome, too sad, I remind myself of Jesus's hopeful words we memorized together in May 2018: “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8:12b).
When I sip coffee in the quiet—or sometimes rather rowdy (I have three sons)—early morning, I pray our January 2020 verse along with Moses, that God would “Satisfy [me] in the morning with [his] unfailing love, that [I] may sing for joy and be glad all [my] days” (Psalm 90:14).
When I sit with friends who are hurting, who are longing for resolution, who are searching for truth, and I sometimes don’t know what to pray, this prayer we memorized in September 2022 comes washing over us as a comfort: “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit” (Romans 15:13).
And when I am in a bad rut of working and striving and earning, and pleasing, which is my personal default setting, it is God’s kindness when he whispers again the words we hid in our hearts in February 2023: “I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness” (Jeremiah 31:3b).
When I look back on God’s presence in my life in 2023, what sticks out most is that consistently doing the small thing over time— specifically, memorizing one verse every month—is producing the harvest on which I feast every day. These tiny verses are my soul’s food, one bite at a time.
And so, I want to invite you to join me in 2024 to experience the nearness and the power of God through knowing his Word. I realize that some of you may feel discouraged that I’ve got 72 memorized, and you have zero memorized. Or maybe you are afraid you’ll start something and fail at it, or quit 2 verses in. Let me let you in on a secret: It’s not about the 72 verses. Even just one verse has the power to completely transform your life because they are the very words of God—words that are “alive and active” (Hebrews 4:12). Start with one.
I love you, and I am so grateful you are here with us. Thank you for the honor and the privilege of being a small part of what God is doing in your life.
Love,
Vera Schmitz
by Dwell Differently
]]>
Merry Christmas, friend!
As we marvel today at the kindness and love of God our Savior appearing, may our longing grow for his second Advent, joyfully awaiting the day he will come again to bring full healing and restoration to all who trust in him:
Hail the heaven-born Prince of Peace!
Hail the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings,
Risen 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 new-born king."
— Hark! The Herald Angels Sing
In light of those precious words, may we proclaim today, “Come, Lord Jesus!”
With joy,
The Dwell Differently Team
by Natalie Abbott
God our Savior,
In our dark night you looked and saw.
Saw us in our mess and failing,
In our loneliness and longing,
In our heartache and our wandering.
You saw us in our endless doing,
Proving worth with constant striving,
Piling up, yet never filling.
You saw us in our self-made prison,
Bound to pleasures and to passion,
Enslaved to vices and devices.
You saw us in our discontent,
Posturing, posing to pretend,
Climbing others for position,
You saw it all, and you saw us,
Pitiful, yet pitiless,
Selfish servants of our sin.
You saw us, ever chasing,
Ever chased, backward looking,
Helpless, wanted, trapped, and tripping.
You saw it all, and loved us still.
Not recoiling, but embracing.
Not discarding, but restoring.
Jesus our Savior,
When your Father asked, you came.
You came and became a man,
Entering our self-made prison,
Not for judgment, but salvation.
You came, a light into our dark,
Gently laying bare our hearts,
Showing us our helplessness.
In kindness and in love, you came,
To give us mercy and reclaim,
Us from this awful mess we’ve made.
You came and you remained unstained,
Yet not unscathed; you took our pain,
Our penalty, our debts, our name.
You came and conquered death for us,
And now your life you offer us,
Fulfilling all God’s promises.
Wonder of wonders, Jesus, you came,
To give your glory for our shame,
Your truth, your life, and your good name.
You left, but didn’t leave to stay,
Your Spirit leads us in your way,
‘Til your return on that great day.
So triune God, we praise your name!
You saw, and came, and still remain,
And you will bring us home one day.
Good tidings of great joy are these,
For all people who would receive,
And this glad news of hope, believe!
Amen.
________
When our team read this poem, we decided we needed a printable version to use as a prayer with our friends and family at our Christmas celebrations. You can download a beautifully designed printable for free here!
]]>by Jen Oshman
]]>Over a thousand Americans who do not typically attend church were asked, “If someone you know invited you to attend church with them at Christmastime, how likely would you be to attend?” Almost six out of ten (57%) said “likely.”
Many of us have a sense that our non-Christian friends and neighbors think religion is no longer relevant. Growing secularism paralyzes us. We wonder how we might shine the light of Jesus in a context that is contrary to him and quick to cancel us.
While it’s true that Christianity feels increasingly irrelevant in the West, the same cannot be said about the Christmas season itself. We remain a people who love Christmastime and all its traditions. Christmas carols at the mall announce, “The Lord has come!” Nativity scenes sprinkle public places. Cars don stickers reminding other drivers that “Jesus is the reason for the season.”
If six out of ten Americans who do not typically attend church are willing to go with a friend at Christmas, this is your sign that most non-Christians are willing to consider spiritual things all month long. This season is the perfect bridge for us to cross into culture to invite our loved ones to come and see what (Who!) the holiday is all about.
If you typically find yourself afraid to mention Jesus to your friends, coworkers, and neighbors, this is your moment.
Motivated by Kindness, Love, and Mercy
This month’s memory verse is from Paul’s letter to Titus, “But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy” (Titus 3:4-5a). Paul reminds us that Jesus’s coming to earth is the very appearance of God’s kindness and love. Christmas is borne of God’s mercy.
Kindness, love, and mercy are God’s motives for Christmas. So then, let us also be propelled by kindness, love, and mercy. Let us also go toward others, as our Savior did. Let us also do what it takes to make sure our loved ones know what Christmastime is all about.
This is a unique month in our calendar year. December is unlike any other time in the western world. What would it look like for us to make the most of every opportunity (Ephesians 5:16) and share the truth of Christmas with others? Below are some practical ideas to do just that.
Five Practical Ways to Talk About Jesus this Month
1. Share what your Dwell Differently tattoo or jewelry means. If you’re reading this article you likely know about Dwell Differently’s temporary tattoos and beautiful jewelry. You may know, then, what great conversation starters they are. Without fail, my Dwell tattoos and necklaces prompt friends and strangers alike to ask, “What do those letters mean?” With this month’s verse we will be able to tie the birth of Jesus to God’s kindness, love, and mercy. We can rehearse the gospel right then. Jesus wasn’t just a babe born in a manger, he’s our Savior who came to save us, not because of our good works, but because of his mercy.
2. Have a birthday party for Jesus. When my kids were younger we hosted a birthday party for Jesus every December. We invited all their friends and their parents to come to our house for a full-on birthday party. We had crafts and games and, of course, birthday cake (we even sang to Jesus). We asked each child to bring a birthday gift for Jesus, which was for a Christian ministry we selected. For example, they brought socks for the local homeless shelter, baby items for a pregnancy center, or toys for children who live in transitional homes. Everyone loves to get behind charity at Christmas and having a birthday party for Jesus provides an easy and tangible way to talk about the true gospel.
3. Bring cookies and an invitation. It may feel cliche, but this is easy and effective—and who doesn’t love home baked cookies? Spend an afternoon baking cookies with your family (or invite a handful of friends over!), arrange a variety of cookies on a paper plate or in a cookie tin, attach a Christmas card, and consider attaching an invitation to your church’s Christmas Eve service and maybe even a small gospel tract or Christmas book. We do this every single year and our neighbors always seem to enjoy the gesture. Even if they don’t accept our invitation, we build those relationships with each act of kindness. You can alter this idea to bring something healthy (homemade granola is a favorite of mine) and it doesn’t have to be just neighbors, it can be your coworkers or your children’s classmates. Everyone loves home-baked goods and the data shows 57% of the recipients will want to go to church with you on Christmas.
4. Host a Christmas block party. Block parties are common in the summer, but why not in December? Consider asking a friend or people on your church’s worship team to join in by providing live Christmas carols. Build a campfire on the driveway, serve hot chocolate in crockpots, and don’t forget the cookies. Place invitations to your church’s Christmas Eve service (or Christmas books or gospel tracts) on the buffet. Take this time to get to know your neighbors, share your Dwell tattoo, or invite them back for dinner in January. The goal here is to capitalize on this chance to make a new Christmas tradition in your community and to be ready to point to the kindness, love, and mercy of our Savior who was born in Bethlehem.
5. Consider who might be lonely and go visit them. Think through the last year and who you know who has suffered a loss. No doubt the holidays are very painful for them and they could use a visit and some comfort. Or consider places like nursing homes, prisons, or group homes. What populations are nearby who are often forgotten and left out? Call those places and ask if you can visit with a prepared meal, cookies, and maybe even a little Christmas program. Your small group could sing Christmas carols, provide a Christmas card craft that you do with the residents there, or play some kind of Christmas game. Employ your people and your creativity and think of ways to share the gospel as you celebrate Christmas with these new neighbors.
This is our moment, brothers and sisters. Don’t sit this one out. Christmas can be a busy time and sharing the gospel can feel daunting. But there’s no more natural and strategic season all year long. Pray now about how God might use you and where he might send you. Ask the Lord to fill you with the kindness, love, and mercy that propelled him toward us, so that you might be propelled toward others.
]]>by Natalie Abbott
Christmas is the season for expectation.
The people of God wait each year with baited breath to peek again into that manger scene and celebrate Jesus, Immanuel, God with us. Truly, this is the wondrous place where our hopes put on flesh and find their fulfillment. And yet, so often in this season, I’m not filled with the expectation of celebrating Christ, but instead I’m focused on fulfilling the expectations of others and myself. And those Christmas expectations crush me.
I hustle and bustle, checking off endless lists.
Will I get the right thing? Will I let them down?
I plan and fret about the gatherings of my loved ones.
Will there be enough of this or that? Will they enjoy themselves?
I weigh myself down with traditions.
We’ve always done it this way. Will everyone be disappointed if we don’t? Will I?
In all of it, I work and strive to make everything perfect.
Will it be good enough for them? For me?
This is my performance-based Christmas hamster wheel. And I really do find myself so often running in circles to meet these expectations (and more). But here’s the irony: living like this is actually anti-Christmas. When I strive under these expectations, I inevitably fail to do the thing I’m trying so hard to do: I don’t actually celebrate Christmas at all.
Thankfully, I know a way off the Christmas hamster wheel.
Years ago, I started realigning my Christmas expectations by focusing on Christ. To put it simply, I started putting Christ on my Christmas list. What do I mean by that? Well, he’s on my “to-do list” every day. Sure, I’ve got lots of things on that list this time of year, but I don’t neglect this one thing: Jesus. I spend time reading my Bible and regularly, throughout the day, I refocus on him by praying, singing Christmas hymns, and reciting Scripture. This is how I fight my Christmas-performance mindset, and I confess I often lose! But this year I have one more weapon in my arsenal: Titus 3:4-5a. These are the perfect words to speak over myself every time I need to refocus my expectations:
“But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy.” — Titus 3:4-5a
Do you hear that!? “He saved us, not because of righteous things we had done…” That means there’s nothing we can do to earn our seat at the table. Instead, God did everything for us. And that is where we find freedom.
This is the message we need on repeat in our heads this Christmas!
So, as you say it to yourself, I want you to remember these three things about expectations:
That is our true and best Christmas expectation.
No earthly thing could ever measure up to the wonder of God’s love as it was embodied in that manger so many years ago. This is the good news of great joy for all people (Luke 2:10). And our minds and hearts can safely dwell in that wondrous place in the midst of the bustle of this season.
Will you join me in trading in striving for rest—knowing that Jesus has met every expectation for us? He is our greatest gift.
]]>by Thomas À Kempis (1380–1471)
]]>Editor’s Note: We are thrilled to share with you an excerpt from Every Moment Holy, Volume III which just released this month! As we wrap up our memorization of and meditation on Matthew 6:21, may we increasingly be people who look to Christ as our ultimate treasure, ultimate rest, ultimate good.
Rest is a priceless treasure: a thing we desire and hold in high value, but is often fleeting and difficult to obtain as we run the race set before us in the coming and going of our days. In this prayer, Thomas À Kempis helps us assign words to the myriad things we—intentionally or not—place in priority over the treasure found when resting in God. — Leslie Eiler Thompson, Every Moment Holy Volume III: The Work of the People contributing writer |
A Liturgy for Resting in God, by Thomas À Kempis (1380–1471)
Excerpt from Every Moment Holy, Volume III
Grant me, O most loving Lord,
to rest in you above all else—
above all creatures,
above all health and beauty,
above all glory and honor,
above all power and dignity,
above all knowledge and cleverness,
above all riches and art,
above all fame and praise,
above all sweetness and comfort,
above all hope and promise,
above all gifts and favors that you can give,
above all happiness my mind can feel;
above all that is not you, O God.
Anything you bestow on me
or reveal to me or promise to me
is too small and unsatisfying
if I do not see or meet you in it.
For surely my heart cannot truly rest,
or ever be fully contented,
unless it rest in you.
Amen.
]]>by Glenna Marshall
]]>The most generous people I know are not wealthy. They are, however, Christians. And their openhandedness with material possessions and money is driven by their love for Jesus. They give with joy, without strings, and at a cost to their own personal finances. I’ve benefited from their generosity on many occasions, and what I’ve learned about their approach to money is that money itself doesn’t mean much to them. The money isn’t their treasure. Jesus is. Their hearts are attached to the One whose value is beyond earthly calculations. Our verse this month says that “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21). Your heart follows what you love. If your treasure is Jesus, then you’re free to be generous without fear of the cost.
IS MONEY EVIL?
Let’s get one sticky issue out of the way first. Isn’t money "the root of all evil”? That sounds right, doesn’t it? Money can and does cause all sorts of problems. But money itself is morally neutral. Money can’t do anything apart from the humans who use it for good or for evil. What God’s Word actually says about money is this: “For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil” (1 Timothy 6:10, emphasis added). We must earn and spend money to make it in this life; that’s just the way the world works. But it’s the desperate pursuit and worship of money that gets us all tangled up in idolatry. Our hearts were made to worship, but we can’t worship both God and money. That’s where the “evil” part comes into play: loving money. Worshiping it, chasing it relentlessly. In the pursuit of wealth lies the sin of selfishness. If money is your treasure, you won’t want to let it go. If money is your treasure, generosity will feel impossible. But if your treasure is Christ, then generosity can protect you from selfishness and idolatry. Let’s explore three ways generosity can protect your heart from the idolatry of money.
You don’t have to be wealthy to be stingy about money. But you also don’t have to be wealthy to be generous with money. Remember the poor widow who gave all the money she had to the offering? In Mark 12:43, Jesus praised her gift, even though it amounted to about 1/64th of a day’s wage.[1] It wasn’t the amount that was significant. It was the attitude of the widow’s heart. She gave all she had to live on. That’s what impressed Jesus: she gave from her poverty rather than abundance. Her heart was reflected in her giving. And it’s the heart that Jesus is always after.
Do you trust God with your finances enough to live generously? Do you worry that if you make a sacrifice with your money that He won’t provide for your own needs? Generosity can reveal where your trust truly lies: in God or in money.
Every good gift is ultimately from God, and his provision should turn our hearts back to him, the giver. When Jesus taught us to pray in Matthew 6, he told us to ask God for our daily bread (Matthew 6:11). He is the one who meets our needs, so it’s him we go to in prayer for what we need in this life: food, work, health, love, joy, salvation. He is a father who loves his children. He’s not stingy! His lavish love should stir up love in return. We can emulate his generosity, trusting him to provide when we give at cost to our personal finances and time. Money and possessions can be found and lost in a moment. But no one can take the love of God in Christ Jesus from you. That’s why he is the treasure.
Everything we have is ultimately from the Lord, so we can live open handedly when it comes to our money and our stuff. None of it is truly ours! Asaph tells us that God owns “the cattle on a thousand hills,” meaning everything belongs to God (Psalm 50:10). And it does! He spoke the universe into existence. He is the author of life. Everything is rightfully his. But he shares with us so that we have what we need and can meet the needs of others. When we view “our” money and “our” stuff as God’s money and God’s stuff, we can escape the entanglements of selfishness and idolatry. We are blessed to bless. We might not view ourselves as wealthy, but when we can give without feeling too much of a financial pinch, we are definitely wealthier than most.[2]
GENEROSITY DISPLAYS THE LOVE OF JESUS
No one has ever loved you like Jesus. He laid down his very life for yours. He became sin so that you could become righteousness (2 Corinthians 5:21). The way of Jesus is sacrifice, and you are never more like him than when you put the needs of others before your own desires. You can open your hands and share what was never yours to begin with.
When you support that single mom at church who is struggling to make ends meet, you’re declaring that her life matters more than your savings account. When you choose to support your local pregnancy care center or homeless shelter instead of eating dinner out every week, you’re displaying love for the desperate and destitute because you know how needy you were for the Lord’s intervention in your own life. When you write that check to your church each month instead of spending it on more leisure or entertainment activities, you prove that the ministries of the local church matter more than a trip to the movies or a weekend away. When you sponsor an underprivileged child instead of subscribing to another streaming service, you celebrate the value of image bearers.
When we give because we believe that the kingdom and love of Jesus matter for eternity, we will find that money passes easily from our hands into the hands of those who need it. Generosity shows that we love people more than we love stuff—because we love Jesus the most.
Your heart follows your treasure. If your treasure is money, then you will spend your life worrying, working, storing, spending, saving, and chasing something that will never last. If Jesus is your treasure, though, you will follow him, gladly sharing what he has given to you. When we invest our earthly currency in kingdom ventures, we will see the rewards for eternity. Jesus is the treasure that lasts forever.
[1] Today, that translates to around $3 in the U.S.
[2] Luca Ventura, “Poorest Countries in the World 2023 [Updated September],” September 17, 2023. https://www.gfmag.com/global-data/economic-data/the-poorest-countries-in-the-world.
]]>Eternal Joy > Instant Gratification
by Jen Oshman
]]>Growing up in the divided homes of two single parents meant often hearing, “No, we can’t afford that.” As a teenager I hated those words. I wanted to have what my friends had, to go where they went, to enjoy spontaneous spending like they did.
Now, as a parent myself, I marvel at how my mom especially handled finances and how, as a public school teacher, she made ends meet on her own. In reality, she worked tirelessly and I lacked nothing. But as an immature girl, wrapped up in materialist motives, I wanted more. My goal as I left for college was to get a degree that would make me wealthy. I set out to never say, “We can’t afford that” to my own children.
Thankfully my story does not end there. College was a reckoning. The Lord, with his deep mercy and great love (Ephesians 2:4), relentlessly pursued me, refusing to let me be satisfied with less than a vibrant relationship with him. I had one foot chasing the goods of this world, and one foot trying to follow Jesus. As my divided life was exposed one evening at Bible study, a Christian friend who was fed up with my duplicity exclaimed, “Jen, you cannot serve both God and money” (Matthew 6:24).
It was cold water thrown on a complacent face.
My friend—not to mention my God—could see right through me. Jesus says, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21). My heart was flirting with the temptation to forego the treasures of heaven for the temporary gratification of material gain.
Is Wealth the Problem?
I can see my college self (and let me be honest, at times my current self) in the story of the rich young ruler. Picture him with me. He approaches Jesus and asks, “Teacher, what good thing must I do to get eternal life?” (Matthew 19:16). Jesus perceives his divided heart and answers, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me” (v. 21). The outcome? “When the young man heard this, he went away sad, because he had great wealth” (v. 22). Jesus turns to his disciples and says, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God” (v. 24).
The issue wasn’t the man’s wealth. Jesus’s ministry was supported by the wealth of his followers. Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Susanna are just three women mentioned in the Bible who supported Jesus “out of their own means” (Luke 8:2-3). There was also Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus, both members of the Jewish Ruling Council, who lovingly dealt with Jesus’s body after his crucifixion, donating expensive spices and a tomb (John 19:38-42). One can be wealthy and still get eternal life.
The difference between the rich young ruler and these supporters of Jesus’s life and ministry was where they spent their treasure. The young man was unwilling to part with his, while Jesus’s followers spent “their own means” on their Lord’s well-being, his ministry, and the advancement of his kingdom.
Their money served their God. They did not serve their money.
What Story Does Your Bank Statement Tell?
My husband and I had a pastor early in our marriage who often said, “If you want to know where your heart is, look at your credit card statement and your calendar.” We spend our time and our money on the things that we value. As Jesus said, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21).
Here’s what’s tricky for us Christ followers in the wealthy West: material wealth and the latest and greatest consumer goods are right at our fingertips, and most of us can afford plenty of them. Discipled by our culture, lacking the limits of poverty, and wanting to satisfy our own flesh, we spend, spend, spend. We easily value the creaturely comforts of here and now more than the soul-deep satisfaction of investing in eternity. We are the rich ones Jesus speaks of, “Truly I tell you, it is hard for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 19:23).
Eternal Joy > Instant Gratification
When we lived overseas, the only way to dispose of large trash items was to drive them to a dump ourselves. My husband would visit the dump a few times a year and he would always take one of our kids with him. While there, they would walk around to see rusted out bicycles, tarnished dolls, plenty of plastic toys, and rotted out furniture. The ritual allowed him and our daughters to be reminded of where worldly goods ultimately end up. They seem nice for a while, but we all know how quickly our new things break down, go out of style, or lose our interest.
As it turns out, my husband and I don’t actually say, “We can’t afford that” to our children. Instead, we’ve been careful to plot out our monthly budget alongside our kids. From the time they are four years old we ask them to join us as we set guidelines for our spending, saving, and giving. When we come across a temporary good that’s not in line with the eternal plans we’ve made, we say something like, “Remember what we decided? That’s not how we said we’d spend our money this month.” Of course, at times, they are disappointed, and so are we. Resisting instant gratification isn’t easy.
But Jesus isn’t out to make us miserable. Far from it! He came that we might have life and have it to the full (John 10:10). As our Creator and Savior, he knows that abundant life is not found in the sum total of what we can amass here and now.
Jesus’s call to store up treasures in heaven is for our good. He wants us to have eternal joy, not fleeting happiness. Let’s not be satisfied with any less.
by Natalie Abbott
]]>Recently, our van died.
And I’d be lying if I told you it was no big deal, that it didn’t keep me up at night, that I felt totally good about the whole thing. Why? We needed another vehicle to fit our big ol’ family of seven, and it was going to cost us a whole lot of money—a whole lot more than our secondhand van cost us 13 years ago. And, truth be told, that stressed me out. Why? Because spending a whole lot of money always stresses me out. In fact, money in general stresses me out.
I wonder if money stresses you out too?
Do you worry whether you have enough—for rent, for school, for bills, for retirement, for a decent vacation, for when your car goes out, or your roof, or your heater? My guess is you do worry about money, at least some of the time. We all do. And the funny thing is, it doesn’t matter how much we have. Regardless of whether we have a big pile of money or just a few bucks in our pocket, whether we spend it like water or squirrel it away, whether we work really hard for it or it always comes easy, we all tend to worry about money at least some of the time. Why? Because we need it. We can’t live without it. Yet, no matter how much money we have, it always feels precarious, like we could lose it all at any moment, like we’ll never have quite enough money to truly be safe and secure.
This tendency of ours to worry about money doesn't take Jesus by surprise.
We all need money, but it will never make us safe and secure. It’s a shaky foundation. In our verse this month, and in the surrounding passage, Jesus talks about the necessity and the instability of money. He speaks about our vulnerability and our tendency to trust in and treasure money as security. He affirms our legitimate needs, but warns that putting our confidence in money is always a bad deal. He gives it to us straight, but also compassionately, offering a safe solution for our money-worried hearts. Let’s read what he has to say:
“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also….No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.” (Matthew 6:19-21, 24)
Jesus tells us that our hearts are going to treasure something—they’re going to be aligned with something, trust in something, love and serve something. And he says we have two choices: we can either treasure God or money, but not both. We can’t mostly trust God, and sprinkle some trust in money on top. Nope. Our hearts can only be true to one thing, and that one thing is our treasure. We see in this passage that Jesus warns us about the inconstancy and fallibility of trusting in money or earthly treasures. In contrast, he encourages us to love and entrust our hearts to God, whose heavenly treasures are eternal, infallible, constant, and safe. When we look at it that way, the obvious choice is to love God and his heavenly treasure. But what does that look like practically?
Heavenly treasures are awesome, but we still have earthly needs.
Jesus addresses this legitimate concern in the next section (Matthew 6:25-34). Jesus acknowledges that we still need food and drink and clothing. We have bodies and lives that need to be looked after. And Jesus acknowledges that all of these things can be a source of worry. Don’t we know it? Didn’t we start off by talking about the things we need that money can buy? If money isn’t our number one priority, are we really going to be able to take care of ourselves? Jesus tells us in this section that God is the one who owns and cares for everything, including us. The same God who clothes the fields and feeds the birds cares infinitely more for his children. He knows everything we need, and he is more than able to provide for us. Instead of focusing on and worrying about those needs, we can fix our eyes on God and allow him to provide for us. At the end of this section talking about physical things that we really do need, Jesus says, “But seek first [God’s] kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well” (Matthew 6:33). When our hearts are seeking God, when he is our greatest treasure, we can trust that he will take care of us.
So, back to my question: Do you worry about money?
Or maybe this is a better question: Do you worry about the things you need? For me, it’s a “yes”—sometimes it’s more of a “yes” than other times, but for sure this is a regular “yes” in my life. I wish it weren’t so. But sometimes I do struggle with worry, and I’d venture to say that sometimes you struggle with worry too. That’s why this passage of Scripture is here. Jesus knows our legitimate needs, our vulnerability, and our worries. And he’s giving our hearts a solution: Love God and seek him above all things; make him your treasure, and he will take care of you. Our hearts are safe when we are treasuring the one thing that we cannot lose. Ever.
So here’s my challenge for you (and me) as we memorize and meditate on our verse this month: ask God to help you diagnose your heart with it. Every time you say, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21), ask the Lord to show you where your treasure really is. Ask yourself whether you're entrusting your heart to earthly things to save you or to the One who is actually safe. Then pray. Ask God to take your worries and praise him for being the safe and good place for your heart.
by Natalie Abbott
]]>
O God, make me faithful.
The turn is quick from faithfulness to folly.
So this is my prayer: keep me.
Come what may—keep me.
Over the decades—keep me.
When doubt threatens—keep me.
When enemies arise—keep me.
When health fails—keep me.
When all seems lost—keep me.
When friends flee—keep me.
When wealth promises—keep me.
When life distracts—keep me.
When fame whispers—keep me.
When people flatter—keep me.
Through the good and through the bad, through it all—keep me.
Let me say this all my days to you:
This God is [my] God for ever and ever. He will be [my] guide to the end.
O my God, you alone are faithful. I know my fickle heart, my sinful leanings and longings. I know my flesh will fail. Yet you will not. You desire my flourishing and faithfulness. Only you can make it so. O Lord, would you make it so? Build up my resolve in my love and longing for you. You are my God forever and ever. Be my guide to the end! Amen.
]]>
by Glenna Marshall
]]>Scripture shows us over and over that God is trustworthy and faithful. Because he is “our God for ever and ever,” as our verse this month says in Psalm 48:14, we will never need nor find a guide more reliable and true. But what if God leads us in a direction we’re not sure we want to go? Can we trust him when his path takes us through pain?
Paths We Do Not Choose
I was twenty-nine when the pain started. It was subtle. Just a little soreness in my low back that began waking me up at night. But as the weeks turned to months, the pain increased steadily, growing from a flicker to a blaze that burned all night. Unable to sleep, I walked the floors in the middle of the night, crying out to the Lord for help. It took six years to get a diagnosis for a cluster of inflammatory autoimmune diseases. Since then, I’ve vacillated regularly between remission and flare ups. Even after all these years, I wonder what it would be like to live without pain.
When I was fifteen, I made a promise to the Lord that I would obediently go wherever he led. Back then, I was sure he’d call me to an impoverished country to serve as a missionary. I was open to that. Instead, he has led me into a life marked by physical pain. It’s not exactly what I had in mind. We used to sing the hymn “Wherever He Leads, I’ll Go” in the church of my childhood, and I sang it with gusto when I was young, not knowing that sometimes God guides us to places we could never have imagined for ourselves. His plans for us are good, but they are not always easy. Even so, I’ve learned that when God calls us to walk through a shadowed valley, he has promised to go with us. We can trust his guidance because he provides what we need to persevere through every valley.
Manna for Israel
When God delivered Israel from slavery in Egypt, he took them to the land he had promised their forefather, Abraham. The journey to the promised land (which would be stalled by the people’s disobedience) was not an ideal place to forage for food. It was a wilderness, inhospitable to travelers. If you’re picturing desert-like terrain without food or water, you’re exactly right. But God provided food for his people the entire time they lived in the wilderness. Every morning, they gathered manna, a wafer-type substance that appeared on the ground (see Exodus 16). They could only gather what they needed for the day or else it would spoil with worms. In the evenings, quail would also be available for meat. In this daily act of gathering food, the Israelites had to believe the Lord would provide again. Each day was an opportunity to trust his guidance in a place that seemed completely at odds with the promised destination.
Manna for Us
In my struggle with chronic illness, I’ve learned that daily “manna gathering” is essential for trusting God with my life. No matter how intense my pain on any given night, I know I must reorient my mind and heart to what is true when the sun comes up. I must open my Bible and remember who God is and how much he loves me.
Pain and other physical symptoms of disease can cause extreme tunnel vision, and in the past, I’ve been tempted to let my circumstances tell me what is true about God and his thoughts toward me. I believe God can heal me, but since he hasn’t, I’ve wondered if he loves me. At times, I’ve feared my disease was a consequence for some sin I had forgotten about. Maybe God was angry with me. I’ve worried about what my health and my faith would be like ten years from now. Twenty years. Thirty.
But this is where daily “manna gathering” of the Word is crucial. I didn’t need to worry about God’s long-term mercies. They’ll be there when I need them (see Lamentations 3:22-23). I needed to focus on today’s mercies only. I began searching through Scripture after each night of debilitating pain, writing down what I learned about God’s character. I made lists in a spiral notebook, copying down the attributes and actions of the Lord as I read. He wasn’t punishing me, for all my sins were paid for at the cross. He wasn’t withholding love, for nothing separates me from his love (Rom. 8:1, 38-39). If he loved me while I was still a sinner and sent Christ to die for me, then nothing—not even pain—could separate me from his love. In time, I grew confident of the Lord’s presence and faithfulness to me even in my physical suffering. Each morning I opened the Bible to combat my fears and worries with truth, and each day God’s Word was enough to sustain me until the next day. God guided me down a path of pain, but it led to certainty of his love for me.
God Guides, the Church Provides
Living with ongoing health issues means you sometimes need help in practical ways. During some of my worst flare ups, I’ve kept my struggle quiet, unwilling to draw attention to myself or burden others with needs. When a friend from church kindly rebuked me for trying to be self-sufficient, I asked my church family for prayer to get through a particularly painful season. The response was overwhelming: meals, cleaning, childcare, intercessory prayer. God has given us the church to encourage one another, to help us walk in faithfulness to him. It wasn’t his intention for us to fly solo throughout the Christian life. He knew we’d have practical and spiritual needs, and he gave us the church to meet those needs. He provides care and love through the body of Christ.
When I have allowed my church to minister to me, I’ve seen that they are in the valley with me. Weeping when my pain is great, rejoicing when I’m sleeping through the night. Where God has led me, his people are also present.
Where Has God Guided You?
God is intimately acquainted with his people. He is not far-off or distant, holding you at arm’s length. So, if he has guided you into a place you didn’t exactly want to go, he will not abandon you there. He could have led Israel in many different directions, but he led them specifically to a place where they would learn to trust him daily. He’s led me to a similar place, and though I will always pray for healing, I wouldn’t trade his nearness for anything. He is your God, and he will faithfully shape your heart to become like his in the place he’s called you to.
]]>by Glenna Marshall
]]>One of the things I love most about the Lord is His faithfulness to equip us for the life he has called us to. When he gives instructions for our obedience and joy, he always provides what we need to obey him. Because it is his very nature to be faithful, he will never abandon us. Like our memory verse this month says, “This God is our God for ever and ever; he will be our guide even to the end” (Psalm 48:14). Of all the people we might emulate in this world, none will be as faithful and wise a guide as the Lord.
When I was a senior in college, I began attending my fiancé’s church where he served on staff. His church was much smaller than mine, and it didn’t take long to get to know everyone over the next year through Bible studies, Sunday school classes, fellowships, and coffee dates.
Frantic to learn as much as I could about becoming a godly wife before my wedding, I spent lots of one-on-one time with the older, more mature women of the church. At twenty-two years old, I longed to have the kind of wisdom, patience, and kindness these women expressed to me. They loved Jesus deeply, and his Word poured from their mouths with grace. They lived their faith, serving those outside the church and encouraging those within. I wanted to be the same kind of faithful, Christ-honoring woman in my later years that they were, but as I got to know them, I realized they hadn’t become these women overnight. They’d learned what I was just beginning to see: future faithfulness grows from today’s faithfulness.
God is Faithful to Grow Our Faithfulness
As Christians, we long to hear the words of Jesus when we see him face to face: “Well done, good and faithful servant” (see Matthew 25:21, ESV). But lifelong faithfulness that carries us from this day until the Day of his return doesn’t grow from nothing. We cannot walk in faithfulness on our own, and we can’t grow into Christians who radiate wisdom and grace apart from the means he’s provided to do so. Because God himself is perfectly faithful, he has not left us to our own devices.
While we’ll never live perfectly this side of heaven, we can stand firm in faith to Jesus when we build our lives around the things God has given us to that end. In Hebrews 10:19-25, we’re given three exhortations to help us remain faithful to the Lord: prayer, Scripture, and the church. When we obey God’s Word, wholeheartedly applying the means of grace he’s given, we’ll be transformed by his sanctifying work in our hearts as he shapes us to be the kind of faithful, wise saints we long to be. When we grab hold of those three lifelines in Hebrews, we will be characterized as “those who have faith and preserve their souls” (Hebrews 10:39, ESV).
Faithful to Prayer
The author of Hebrews spends much of the first ten chapters explaining Jesus’ superiority to angels, the prophets, and the Law. In light of how he has given us free access to the Father, we should “draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith” (Hebrews 10:22). The biblical language here leads us to the concept of prayer. For those living under the old covenant, the idea of approaching God boldly in prayer must have been quite a paradigm shift. Because Jesus is our great high priest, we don’t need anyone else to mediate for us. We have free access to the Father in Christ! So, the implication here is that we should pray to the Father because we can. Prayer is also commanded and implied in numerous other New Testament passages (Ephesians 6:18, Philippians 4:6, Colossians 4:2, 1 Thessalonians 5:17-19), but rather than view it as drudgery or something we have to do, we should view our ongoing conversation with the Lord as something we get to do! Staying in communion with the Lord daily keeps our hearts humble before him, gives us a way to take our fears and concerns to him, and teaches us to intercede for others. Prayer keeps us connected to God.
Faithful to the Word
“Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering,” the author of Hebrews continues, “for he who promised is faithful” (Hebrews 10:23, ESV). One of God’s expressions of faithfulness to us was to give us his Word, our confession of hope. No Christian can live apart from Scripture, for in it God has given us everything we need for life and godliness (2 Peter 1:3). To walk in faithfulness to Christ until we see him, we must devote ourselves to regular Bible intake. God’s Word is useful “for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness” so that we will be “complete, equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:16-17, ESV). If you want to grow into a faithful, wise, gracious Christian, you will not be able to do it apart from a Scripture-saturated life. Read God’s Word. Pray it. Study it. Memorize it. Think about it. Speak it. Be transformed by it!
Faithful to the Church
You were never meant to live the Christian life in isolation. In fact, the author of Hebrews discourages Christians from neglecting the body of Christ. “And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near” (Hebrews 10:24-25). We never graduate from our need for the church. Did you notice the phrase “all the more”? As we wait to be with Christ, we should lean “all the more” on the community of faith. The church is vital to our growth and encouragement, aiding us in perseverance.
Faithful to the End
I’ve been married twenty years now, and some of those women I got to know when I was engaged are now with the Lord. When I think back on their lives of ordinary, daily faithfulness, it’s easy to see what propelled them forward in their sanctification. They were committed to prayer, the Word, and to the church. They didn’t just fit in those things when they had time; rather, they built their lives around the exhortations in Hebrews 10. And the God they served faithfully kept them to the end. He is pleased to cultivate lifelong growth in his people, and he will do that for you and me as we practice faithfulness today. He is our God for ever and ever. He will finish the good work he has begun in us.
]]>by Jen Oshman
]]>In our current age we make gods in our image, rather than subscribe to the reality that we are made in the image of God. Here’s what I mean. We live in a self-made age. As a people, we believe we can determine our own identities and future outcomes. As self-proclaimed, self-made men and women, we rebuff the influence of others, holding tight to individual autonomy.
This way of thinking bleeds into our spiritual lives too. We make our own gods, in our own image we make them (the very opposite of Genesis 1:27). These self-made deities can be seen on yard signs, bumper stickers, and in the revealed thoughts of celebrities and coworkers and friends in casual conversation. It’s evident when you hear people proclaim, “Well my god would never…” or “My god says…” followed by a sentiment that contradicts what God has said about himself in the Bible. We take our values, shaped by the world around us, and we assign them to our own personal deities.
And our gods can feel satisfying in the moment. They can bring some comfort or justification to our present circumstances. If we struggle to understand the world around us, or wrestle with whether we should engage in some kind of activity or behavior, we can quickly deem, “My god wouldn’t mind. He’s not like that” or, “My god didn’t do that. She would never do that.”
In truth, a god made in your image or mine is no God at all. He or she is an idol—someone or something we contrived in our hearts, as if we fashioned them with our own hands, like the people of old. They are totally made up. And a god who’s made up offers no certainty, no hope, and no help at all. Out here in the real world we have real problems and real pain and even real death. Out here, we need a real God.
So when the psalmist says in our verse this month, “For this God is our God for ever and ever; he will be our guide even to the end” (Psalm 48:14), we must first ask who is this God? We must ask if we know this one true God in whose image we are made, or if we have subconsciously made a different god in our own image? I must ask if my God is this God for ever and ever? Do I trust in this Guide to the very end? Or am I holding fast to something or someone I made?
How can we know if we know the one true God? The first and last verses of the Psalm give us an idea.
Psalm 48 opens with, “Great is the Lord, and most worthy of praise, in the city of our God, his holy mountain” (Psalm 48:1). And the Psalm ends with, “Walk about Zion, go around her, count her towers, consider well her ramparts, view her citadels, that you may tell of them to the next generation. For this God is our God for ever and ever; he will be our guide even to the end” (Psalm 48:12-14).
The Psalmist invites us to explore Zion, the City of God, and to explore the God who reigns there and everywhere. These words are an invitation, “Come see our God. Come see his city. Come see what he’s like. Come see what he has done.”
This invitation is a gift—you and I can know if we do in fact believe in the one true God. He is not elusive. He is not unknowable. He is not man-made. He is not far off. He is right here in his Word.
In the Bible we see the history of our God. We see his work of creation and his delight in us—men and women made in his image—from Genesis to Revelation. We see his promises to Abraham fulfilled in Jesus. We see his faithfulness and devotion to the Israelites and his church. We see our Savior, his life, death, resurrection, and great acts of mercy to make us his own. We see wisdom and poetry and letters and exhortations which are instructive for all people across all countries for all time. We see the beauty of the coming New Heavens and New Earth and we are invited to await them with joy and anticipation.
Our God is knowable in his Word. In his Word, we can know our God who is “for ever and ever” (Psalm 48:14). Through his Word, “he will be our guide even to the end (Psalm 48:14).
Come and see so that you can know who he is and what he is like. Come and see so that you can tell the next generation (Psalm 48:13). Come and see so that you can be held by him. Come and see so that you worship him and none other.
Knowing the good, beautiful, and true God—who is very real, very alive, and very active— exceeds the temporary and superficial comfort of the false gods we have made in our own image. This God is our God, not the god you or I have contrived in our hearts and minds, in our own image. He is not an idol crafted by human hands. This God—our God!—is the one true God who reigns forever and ever.
]]>by Natalie Abbott
]]>
I never ask my mom for movie recommendations.
It’s not because she doesn’t enjoy the same movies that I enjoy. It’s not because she has no sense of humor or doesn’t love a good rom-com. Not at all. Whenever I see a movie with her, we’re always laughing at the same parts and crying at the same parts and looking over at each other while we’re crying and then laughing at each other. I really love watching movies with my mom, and yet I never follow her advice for what to watch. Why? She almost never watches a full movie. She’s always getting up to grab something or answering a call or even falling asleep! I can’t tell you how many times she tells me, “That movie was good, but it kind of didn’t make sense.” And I always laugh and ask her what percentage she actually watched! If you want to understand and appreciate a movie, you have to watch it all the way through.
And our memory verses are no different.
If you want to understand and appreciate a Bible verse, you’ve got to see it in the context of the full story. Doing so is good and safe. Good, because there are always more riches to be found in God’s Word. And safe, because it will keep you from misunderstanding and misapplication. So today we’re going to see how Psalm 48 and our verse fit into the bigger story of the Bible in order to find the goodness of what God has for us and the safety of right understanding and application of our verse.
Have you read all of Psalm 48 before?
It’s a beautiful Psalm about God dwelling with his people. And like our verse says, he is and always will be the same God forever and ever. And he will guide his people to the very end. This is incredible, is it not? But, if you’ve read Psalm 48, you also know that this is a song that was originally sung by the people of Israel praising God for dwelling in the physical temple in the actual city of Jerusalem at a time when God had saved them from real enemies. So while we love this verse, what does it have to do with us, right now, in the 21st century? God no longer dwells in a physical temple in the actual city of Jerusalem. Was this psalm really just for ancient Israel? Or can you and I sing this song too?
We can and we should.
We only need to follow the threads of the themes we see in this psalm throughout the whole story of the Bible. The main idea of Psalm 48 is that God is dwelling with and saving his people. And the main idea of our verse is that God is unchanging and will alway guide his people. If we look (briefly) through Scripture, we see these themes throughout both the Old and New Testaments. Let me take you through just a couple of the beautiful and terrible iterations of this theme in the beginning of the Bible, in the middle of the Bible, in the lives of New Testament believers, and on into the future.
In the beautiful beginning of the Bible, God dwells with his people in unhindered, full intimacy. But into this perfection, man introduces the terrible reality of sin, and this results in separation from their holy and perfect God. Yet, even after their rebellion, God still wants to dwell with his people. So he promises to send a Son to crush evil, save mankind, and restore the broken relationship between God and humanity.
If we move on to the middle part of the story, where we find our verse, we see that God’s promise to crush evil, save mankind, and dwell with his people is in motion. God dwells among his people in his temple in the holy city, Jerusalem. And the people live in blissful safety with their God as long as they follow and worship him. This is the joy and worship we find in Psalm 48. But it doesn’t stay that way long. Rather quickly, the people succumb to the terrible temptation to not follow God or worship him rightly. And after centuries of warnings, God finally sends his people into captivity. The temple, where God was with his people, is destroyed, and all seems lost. Yet this unchanging God still longs to dwell with his people, so even in their captivity, he promises again and again to save them, to crush evil, and to dwell with them once more.
Fast forward with me to the New Testament. Here we see how all of God’s promises find their “yes” in Christ Jesus (2 Corinthians 1:20)! God sends his Son, Jesus, to live the perfect life that no one else ever could, die the death his people deserved, and rise to life and victory forever. Jesus crushed evil. Jesus saved his people. Jesus restored the broken relationship between God and mankind. Now, for all who believe in him, God dwells not just with us, but in us by his Holy Spirit. The dwelling place of God is now his people (Ephesians 2:22).
But that isn’t the end of the story! Our verse, Psalm 48:14, says, “This God is our God for ever and ever.” He is the God of his people not just way back in the beginning, or just in the middle, or even just now. He is God into eternity! His relentless mission to dwell with his people will find its fullness when his kingdom comes on earth as it is in heaven. On that day, there will be no sun, for God will be the light. There will be no temple for he will dwell with us face-to-face (Revelation 21:22-26). And there will be no more evil or sin or sickness or sadness or death (Revelation 21:4). God himself will crush every evil forever. And he will be our God and we will dwell with him forever (Revelation 21:3).
That is the story of “this God” who “is our God.” He is forever—trustworthy and true. And his unhindered, unending love will find us out and make us his own, even as we fail him over and over again. His purposes will not be thwarted. And just as the story of redemption in the Bible is the ever increasing revelation of his love for us, so our lives and our eternities are meant to be the ever increasing joyful worship of him—the unbegun beginner, the God of our messy middle, and the faithful completer of our story. Surely he will be our guide, leading us to himself, even to the end. In light of all of this, we can say the words in our verse with full hearts, holding onto “this God” who “is our God.” Would you say them one more time with me?
“For this God is our God for ever and ever; he will be our guide even to the end.” — Psalm 48:14
Amen and amen.
]]>by Jen Oshman
]]>Enemies are usually easy to identify. We can quickly think of someone who stole from us, or maligned our reputation, or even physically abused us. Those who are hostile or hateful toward us are easy to label “enemy.”
But what about our own brothers and sisters in the faith? Whether in the local church or the global church, is it possible for us to treat our Christian siblings as our enemies too?
For many of us, our first days in the faith or our first days in a new church were delightful. We were euphoric with new forgiveness and new friendships. As the Lord poured grace into us, we happily poured it out to others. We embraced new sisters and brothers who accepted us unconditionally. We could see they wanted our best, they were committed to us, and they loved us. We felt the same way.
If you’ve been a Christian for more than a few days, though, you know that euphoria wears off. We may now be saints, but we’re also still sinners. Joining the family of Jesus does not automatically mean we all get along. The past few years have been nothing if not divisive—and not just “out there” in culture, but “in here” in our churches too.
Politics, Covid, social justice, vaccines, elections, pronouns—just a few of the chaotic cultural currents we’ve been navigating in recent years. Most Americans, and most Christians, have strongly held views about all these issues and more. And please hear me, biblically-based convictions are good. It’s good and right for us to wrestle with social issues in light of Scripture. It’s even okay for us to share our convictions online or in person. The question is, when we know we sharply disagree with our siblings in Christ do we treat them like enemies? Maybe.
Our verse this month, “But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you,” (Luke 6:27) is only the first half of one sentence. The second half says, “bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you” (v. 28). The first half feels easy to dismiss when it comes to conflicts with fellow Christians, given the strong words of enemies and hate. But the second half softens just enough to give us pause.
Here’s a question for you and me—a question no one will hear you answer out loud, but one you can honestly evaluate with the Lord your God: How do you really feel about Christians who sit opposite you when it comes to various issues? Do you ever curse them (v. 28)? While a curse can be an obvious, malicious proclamation, it can also be more subtle: a quiet disdain, a hoped-for downfall or misstep, a she deserves it kind of feeling. Or, if you’ve ever been cursed by a fellow believer, was your reflex to bless in return (v. 28)?
Most of us can identify with the following scenario. After a highly charged current event, you made a social media post, voicing your opinion. A brother or sister in your own church left a comment on your post, calling you foolish, maybe even evil, on the wrong side. You saw him or her in church the next week. Was your reflex to bless the sibling who cursed you? Did you move toward them to offer a hug, to quickly reconcile, to cover any hurt or mistreatment in love? Even if you avoid social media, you have likely endured a similar interaction in the church lobby or over dinner with your small group. Or you may be offended by a Christian sibling’s t-shirt or bumper sticker and curse them in your heart. With strong opinions swirling, none of us are unscathed.
Just after Jesus’s command to love our enemies he asks, “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you?” (Luke 6:32). Applying his question to our own church lives, what credit is it to you and me if we only pursue, befriend, host, sit next to, and bless those in our churches who are easy to love? It’s not hard for me to stay cozy with others who think like me, dress like me, talk like me, vote like me. That takes zero effort. But to move toward my siblings who read the opposite news outlets, who have opposing opinions, who are vocal with views I don’t like? That takes effort, a dying to self, nothing less than a move of the Holy Spirit within me.
Goodness, Jesus’s words are hard. He calls us to love those who don’t love us, to love those who are hard, to love when it’s not automatic. He says you should respond with good when bad has been done to you (v. 33). Freely lend and freely give, even when you know you’ll get nothing in return (v. 34, 35).
Expect nothing in return, Jesus says. Just love. Just do good. Just give. This is how the “children of the Most High” (v. 35) are expected to behave. We are called to be lovers and givers and forgivers because our God is, and he lives in us, and he empowers us to be like him.
This portion of Jesus’s teaching closes with, “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful” (v. 36). We are not permitted to be loving and merciful and good to others only when it’s easy. God says, Make the first move. Like he did.
Do you and I believe the gospel is big enough, that Jesus’s love is deep enough, that the church is home enough for brothers and sisters from across the spectrum of opinions and views and convictions and ideas? Is the gospel big enough to embrace us all? Can Jesus’s blood cover us simultaneously, even as we sharply disagree?
The division within and departure from churches over the past couple years is evidence that many of us don’t think so. Apparently we think our differences are too big for unity. We are quicker to curse than we are to bless, quicker to depart, quicker to write off, quicker to run away than we are to run toward.
But it should not be so. It feels jarring to admit that we may treat one another like enemies, that there really are big rifts between siblings in the Lord. Let’s ask our Father to help us bless, give, lend, and expect nothing in return. Let’s remember the lavish mercy he has bestowed upon us. He is merciful. May we be merciful. The gospel is bigger than our differences.
Editor’s Note: We recognize that this verse may bring to mind the sensitive topic of abuse. If you have suffered abuse, or are currently suffering abuse, please tell a trusted person and get help. Setting up boundaries in situations of abuse can be good and right. Forgiveness and good intentions towards our enemies doesn't always look like fully restored relationships.
]]>by Glenna Marshall
]]>I have a phrase I use with my kids when it comes to schoolwork or household chores: “Bare minimum is not enough.” Now, before you get worried that I’m too hard on my children, let me assure you—they are fine. My husband and I are teaching our kids to go the extra mile, to work with excellence, and to glorify God in whatever we do because we know well the pull to just “get by” with a minimal amount of effort. Slowly but surely, my kids are learning what my parents had to teach me. I’m having conversations with my sons that are eerily similar to the ones I had with my own mom.
“Did you clean your room?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Bare minimum or actually clean?”
“Bare minimum,” they mumble before heading back to their rooms to do the job better.
My hope is that one day we won’t need these conversations anymore, but my kids aren’t unique in this. They’re a lot like you, and even more like me, when it comes to investing our whole selves and hearts into what God has put before us. In our flesh, we like to operate at bare minimum capacity so we can say we obeyed God without actually leaving our comfort zones. But he sees and he knows when we’re living more like the lost world around us than the Savior who loved us and gave himself up for us to make us new. While God is gracious and bears with us, he has called us to live holy, sacrificial lives that reflect his love to those around us. And not just those who look like us, act like us, or think like us.
As people who have been loved and saved through Jesus’ death on the cross, we—more than anyone else—know that real biblical love transcends comfort levels, differences, and hostility. Bare minimum love won’t be enough when you are faced with someone who isn’t very lovable in your estimation. Simply saying, “I love them” with gritted teeth and little to no contact isn’t exactly Christ-like love. It’s not the love you reserve for the people in your life who are safe or kind. But is it wrong to hold back genuine love from the people who don’t love us? Can’t we just get by with bare minimum love? Isn’t it safer to hold people at arm’s length who are different from us or who don’t like us?
Jesus speaks to this in Luke 6:32. “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them.” It’s not hard or uncomfortable or stretching to love people who love you and are kind to you. That’s easy love! But to love people who don’t love you, who don’t believe what you believe, who might even have hostile feelings about your faith in Jesus—that’s a biblical, sacrificial, Jesus-saturated kind of love.
God demonstrated his love for us in sending Jesus to die for us while we were still sinners, not after we became believers. He loved us when there was no reciprocal love in us, when there was no obedience or worship in our hearts, when we were “alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds” (Colossians 1:21, ESV). This is the kind of love we are called to love others with, even those we might consider our enemies or who, in fact, are our enemies because they have declared themselves as such. “But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return,” Jesus said. Love them without expecting anything back, and “your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil” (Luke 6:35, ESV). Here’s the motivation for loving our enemies or those who are hostile to the gospel with a real, costly, no-holds-barred kind of love: this is how God has loved us. He is kind to the ungrateful and the evil, and while that’s a tough descriptor to swallow, that’s exactly who we were before he made us new creatures in Christ.
It's easy to love your friends, your family members who love you back, your neighbor who brings you a batch of cookies every few weeks. But if you only love those who are kind and grateful, how are you mirroring the sacrificial love of Jesus who loved sinners and made them saints? It’s good to love your friends and those who enjoy the same things you do. You never have to stop loving your friends! But our calling in Christ is to also extend love to those who may not want or appreciate it, to those who may not define love the same way we do, to those who may reject our gospel-infused love. But the calling and the reasons are still there: “Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful” (Luke 6:36, ESV)
Bare minimum love doesn’t go the extra mile for the one who is unkind to you, but Jesus-saturated love does. Bare minimum love won’t show someone the glory of the gospel and a transformed life. But biblical, forgiving, patient love will. When you express love by being there for someone who has been cruel to you, you show them how much Jesus has loved you. When you answer a harsh criticism with kindness, you point an enemy to the One who brings peace. When you speak of Christ with gentleness instead of defensiveness to the skeptic, you make way for more gospel conversations. When you open your heart to the lost and expect nothing in return, Jesus shines in your love. This kind of love can break down any barrier, for this is why God sent Jesus: to love us, to save us, and to free us so that we can share the good news with others who need love, salvation, and freedom.
Editor’s Note: We recognize that this verse may bring to mind the sensitive topic of abuse. If you have suffered abuse, or are currently suffering abuse, please tell a trusted person and get help. Setting up boundaries in situations of abuse can be good and right. Forgiveness and good intentions towards our enemies doesn't always look like fully restored relationships.
]]>
by Lindsay Tully
]]>I’d just done one of the things I hated the most. Again. I was in the living room with my kids and had become so engrossed scrolling through images and updates (that I actually cared very little about), that the kids (whom I care very much about) were trying to get my attention without much success. Their “Mom, look at this!” was met with “Mmm-hmmm” but no actual eye contact. It still makes my stomach turn to think about it.
Have you ever been there? Have you ever found yourself paying attention to things that don’t really matter? And, maybe even more importantly, have you ever come to the realization that your focus on the things that didn’t matter was actually distracting you from the things that do matter?
As I put on my tattoo for this month, the first 8 words struck me: “But to you who are listening I say…” This phrase stopped me in my tracks and got me thinking about what it means to listen to Jesus—and if I’m listening. While the main emphasis of this verse is about loving our enemies, today I want to think about some of the questions the opening phrase of this verse sparked for me:
Who Was Listening to Jesus?
If we go back a few verses in Luke 6, we see that there’s a big crowd gathered from a variety of places listening to Jesus here (Luke 6:17). This crowd was a mix of Jesus’s disciples as well as many who had come with the hope that Jesus would heal them physically or cast out evil spirits—and he did (Luke 6:18-19). And then he begins to explain to them what it really means to be his disciples—what it looks like to live in the kingdom of God—and I’d be willing to bet what he said felt very shocking to them. It’s a blessing to be poor, hungry, sad, and hated? We should not only not retaliate when enemies come after us, but give generously to them and love them? This is hard.
But Jesus never asks his disciples to live out something that he doesn’t also equip them to do. There are a variety of ways that we are equipped by God to live like who we really are, his redeemed sons and daughters: knowing the Word, praying, living in community with other believers, walking in step with the Spirit who indwells us. The reality is, it isn’t just hard but downright impossible to live out Christ’s call in the second half of our verse to love our enemies if we are not first actively listening to him and abiding in him.
Am I Listening?
We all have what can feel like endless options of things to listen to each day. And many of those things are really great things to pay attention to. But let me level with you: I’ve found myself slowly slipping into a pattern of distraction, of looking at the calendar and my to-do list, scrolling news headlines, or listening to a podcast first thing in the morning instead of first listening to the most important words: what my God has said. As much as I hate to admit that, I know that recognizing the way I’ve prioritized listening to lesser things is a mercy from a kind Father who knows that what I need for joy and endurance and faith is him. Not just things about him, not just a well-ordered schedule, not just a well-informed mind. In short, I really needed to think about the opening words of our verse this month.
As with all things, there’s nuance required here. Do we reject anything and everything else to just read the Bible and pray all day? No. But this is a gut check I needed, and maybe you need it today too: Who are you listening to most often? What’s filling your mind?
God Is Speaking
“But to you who are listening, I say…” Many of us have more than one copy of the Bible in our homes (not to mention the myriad of options to read or listen to Scripture on our phones). Our familiarity with and easy access to the Bible can sometimes lead us to become unexcited about the fact that the God of the universe has spoken—and he’s spoken to us. He has given us his Word to help us know who he is and teach us how to live. There is an invitation waiting from God himself to know him more in the pages of his Word.
This is why Dwell Differently exists. Our mission is to point you to Christ by helping you memorize Scripture, understand what it means, and meditate on it throughout your day. Reading and studying and memorizing the Bible isn’t just a task to check off our to-do list—it’s the God-ordained way that he most clearly shows us who he is, offers us a new identity in Jesus, and equips us to live an abundant life.
An Invitation to Focus on What Matters Most
So what distractions are you facing when it comes to listening to God? What’s one practical thing you can do today to help you listen to what he has said in his Word? He is ready to help you follow after him, to love your enemies just as he loved us when we were his enemies. He is still speaking to you through his Word, equipping you to live in joy. Will you listen?
]]>by Natalie Abbott
]]>“Do you believe in ‘fair is square’?”
I’ll never forget when my three-year-old son Silas asked us this question. We were in a shoe store, back to school shopping with all five of our kids (ages three to eleven). Think chaos. Think bargaining. Think whining. Think sweaty apologies to other customers. We were just trying to get out of there in the least disruptive, quickest way possible when Silas started attacking his brother Ezra. Yikes! My husband, Jason, broke them apart and told Silas to sit in time out. To this he responded, “Do you believe in ‘fair is square’?” Stifling a chuckle at his misquote of the phrase, Jason said, “Yes. Yes, I do.” Then Silas said, “If you believe in ‘fair is square,’ Ezra should be in time out too. He called me a name.” Well, of course, Jason put Ezra in time out too. How can you argue with this three-year-old’s astute argument? It was only fair. It was only right. And it was hilarious! And so this story, and his question, became a part of our family lore. We still ask each other if we believe in “fair is square” when things feel unjust in our home. So let me ask you this:
Do you believe in “fair is square,” or, to put it rightly, “fair and square”?
The real question I’m asking is this: Do you believe in fairness? I would venture that you do. The concept of “fair and square” is woven into the very fabric of our society. We’ve even generally adopted the biblical concept of the Golden Rule that we find in Scripture. It says, “Do to others as you would have them do to you” (Luke 6:31). There’s a “fairness” we Americans love in this pithy little phrase, an equality that strikes a chord with us. In fact, it takes fairness one step further than “fair and square”: the Golden Rule is more generous—encouraging not only fairness but even a magnanimous treatment of others. Wouldn’t the whole world be a better place if we’d just all follow the Golden Rule?
But what does all of this have to do with our verse for the month?
Our verse for the month takes the Golden Rule to a whole new level. It tells us this, “But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you” (Luke 6:27). It’s a verse that bumps ups against our human desire for fairness and frankly pushes it further than we really want to go. Seriously? Love my enemy? Do good to someone who hates me? I think I’ll pass and just stick to the Golden Rule, thanks. Here’s the thing though, something I didn’t realize until looking further into the context of our verse: these verses are right next to each other and inform one another. Let’s read the whole context, and then I want to help you see how they fit together.
“But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone slaps you on one cheek, turn to them the other also. If someone takes your coat, do not withhold your shirt from them. Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. Do to others as you would have them do to you.”
—Luke 6:27-31
I just have one question for you: Who are the “others” in that last sentence? Do you see from the context that the others are our enemies (for more on the wider context, be sure to subscribe to our podcast, and listen to this Wednesday’s upcoming episode)? The Golden Rule is the final sentence in the paragraph and the summation of loving our enemies! “Love your enemies” and “do to others as you would have them do to you” are part and parcel with one another. We aren’t just supposed to treat “others” generally as we would want to be treated (although we should be doing that), but we are to treat our enemies this way—the hardest people to love, the people who hate us and mistreat us and who take our stuff. This is the true essence of the Golden Rule: Do to your enemies as you would have them do to you.
One more thing.
There’s a sticky part that I just have to bring up. There’s an implication here for us in the way this is worded. Remember how we looked at the Golden Rule? We treat others how we want to be treated because they are just like us. But what if the “others” are our enemies, those easily hated people? What does that make us? We are just like them. We are just as unlikeable. We’re the ones cursing others (maybe just under our breath). We’re the ones mistreating, even hating others (maybe just in our heads and hearts). The reason the Golden Rule is so popular is that we assume that we are “good” people who are called to be nice to other similarly “good" people. But this is simply not the case—we are unlikable people, called to love the people we don’t even like.
This is aggressive.
I know this has to be rubbing you the wrong way. I wince to even write it out. Bless the person who curses you. Pray for the one who mistreats you. Give your unspoiled cheek to the one who slaps you. And also, you are that guy. I’m that guy too—the one doing those kinds of things that make us enemies. These are some pretty stark images. How can we understand them? How can we love our enemies? How can we stop acting like enemies? We’re going to flesh this out in the coming weeks, but for now, let me encourage you by reminding you who gave us this call to love the unlovable.
Jesus.
Jesus said love your enemies, Jesus said treat others like you would want to be treated—Jesus, who didn’t merely give directives from heaven, but lived them out—Jesus lived and loved like this. Jesus loved us when we hated him. Jesus blessed us though we cursed and mocked him. Jesus gave us not only his uninjured cheek but his whole self, and we bruised and bloodied him. “While we were still sinners [enemies of God], Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). Jesus didn’t treat us fairly—which is actually really good news because that would’ve meant eternal separation from him—rather, he was merciful and loving, inviting us to be near him and experience forgiveness and peace. And because we are enemies who have been loved like this, we can (and should) love our enemies like this.
How might Jesus’s love toward you help motivate you to love your enemy?
Who’s one person you struggle to love? Pray that God would help you love them.
]]>by Jen Oshman
]]>Americans, it seems, are less empathetic than ever. Anyone who reads the comments section on any social media platform can plainly see empathy is not our strong suit.
Recent surveys bear this out. One survey* of American adults reveals our empathy responses decreased by 14% (in adults of all ages) after the pandemic, and by 20% amongst millennials. The same survey reveals women are especially spent, with 57% saying they feel emotionally exhausted after ingesting negative news. While the pandemic seemingly sped up the decay of empathy amongst us, we were already headed that way. Another survey shows that over the past 40 years empathy has been on the decline, with the average person in 2009 being less empathic than 75% of individuals in 1979*.
It’s tough out there.
It feels like we live in a me-first, take-what-you-can-get-at-all-costs kind of world. And the sociological data backs up what we’re feeling. It’s discouraging and even downright depressing at times.
This Is Nothing New
It’s tempting to think this is a modern day problem. It’s easy to assume that social media, the pandemic, and our 21st century dog-eat-dog world is to blame. The truth is, though, there’s nothing new under the sun (Ecclesiastes 1:9). While research may reveal a current downward trend in empathy, humanity has always been prone to pride, self-centeredness, and championing the strong over the weak. Caring for others has always run counter to culture and counter to our sin nature.
When the Apostle Paul wrote his letter to the Colossians, he addressed exactly this issue. He called the Christians in Colossae to live in opposition to the selfish tendencies they saw within themselves and others. Paul exhorted them, and he exhorts you and me, "Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience” (Colossians 3:12).
Compassion.
Kindness.
Humility.
Gentleness.
Patience.
If you’re familiar with the Bible, it’s easy to glaze over these words—to skim without considering the gravity and glory behind each one. Yada yada, be nice, yada yada.
But it was in taking these very words to heart that the first Christians changed history, eternity, and the entire world.
The Scandal of Empathy
In the fourth century, after Jesus’s life, death, and resurrection, the Roman Emperor Julian wrote a letter* complaining about the radical empathy of the Christians (whom he called godless because they did not worship the Roman gods). He said Christianity “has been specially advanced through the loving service rendered to strangers, and through their care for the burial of the dead. It is a scandal that there is not a single Jew who is a beggar, and that the godless Galileans (Christians) care not only for their own poor but for ours as well; while those who belong to us look in vain for the help that we should render them.”
The compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience exhibited by the early Christians was so radical and remarkable it received the attention of the Emperor. He saw the strength of their empathy. The goodness of their care. Their kindness was so powerful, in fact, it made him and his pagan empire look bad.
The early church was a magnet for the hurting and the outcast. The impoverished, widows and orphans, women, the sick, and all who lived on the margins knew they could find care at the hands of the Christians. Christianity spread exponentially because Christians extended real and radical care.
Truly the early church embodied Paul’s instructions and they shone brightly, in contrast to the darkness of their pagan surroundings. They were a city on a hill (Matthew 5:14) and the world saw their good deeds and were drawn to their Father in heaven (Matthew 5:16). They lived like “God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved” and it was unmistakably attractive—a balm for their age. And it can be a balm for ours as well.
What if We Did This Too?
I’m convicted by the early church’s selfless faith. I wonder if I have allowed my own fear to prioritize self-protection and self-preservation over walking in the footsteps of my Savior who came to serve and not to be served (Matthew 20:28).
Is it possible that we 21st century Christians have gotten so swept away by the culture wars of our day that we no longer bear resemblance to our earliest brothers and sisters? Are we a people who exhibit compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience? Or are we more likely to demand our rights and comforts over others’?
Taking Paul’s instructions to heart is a gut check for sure. I praise God I am chosen, that he has made me holy, and that he dearly loves me. But I’m not so sure God’s love for me has translated well into my love for others. But I want it to. I want my clothes to be compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. I want others to see me and my siblings in Christ and say, “Ah, there’s empathy. That’s where I know I will find comfort and help. Those people deeply care for others.”
Just like the people who lived in first century Greco-Roman culture, Americans today lack empathy. Selfish living is nothing new.
But the power of Christ has not waned over the last two millennia. He is still in heaven on his throne, he still cares for the outcast and the marginalized, and he still calls you and me to move toward those who are hurting. Precisely because we are chosen, holy, and dearly loved we can heed his call and exhibit radical and even reckless compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Christ is with us, and in us, and he sends us. Beloved, we are chosen and holy. Let’s go.
______________________________________________________________
* https://unitedwaynca.org/blog/empathy-burnout-survey/#:~:text=Overall
* https://www.psychiatrictimes.com/view/the-lost-art-of-empathy
* https://christianhistoryinstitute.org/magazine/article/the-undeserving-poor
]]>