Hebrews 12:2
looking to Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who FOR THE JOY that was set before him endured the cross, despising its shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.
I am his joy. And so are you.
I was reading my MacArthur Daily Bible this morning for March 28. Moses prophesied concerning the coming Messiah, and Jesus told us that he is that one!
“The Lord your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from your midst, ” Moses said in Deuteronomy 18. And in Luke 4, Jesus read from the book of Isaiah: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me… to preach… to heal… to proclaim…” Then he said: “Today this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”
The whole Bible is about Jesus, isn’t it? Every page, every verse points us to the Savior.
He is our priest, our prophet, our shepherd, the way, truth, and life, the sacrificial lamb, King of Kings and Lord of Lords. He is God in human form who went to the cross to buy me back. He is love. He is holy. He never leaves or forsakes us. Nothing can separate us from his love.
He died on that cross once and for all, that WHOSOEVER believes in him will have eternal life. He died and rose again. He went to heaven to prepare a place for us.
And one day, HE’S COMING BACK with the sound of a trumpet to take us home.
Praising God today!
I was reading Mark 15 this morning, Peter’s account of Jesus’ crucification as told through Mark. It occurred to me that Peter set down the facts pretty much without much emotion: Jesus was hung on a cross, people mocked him, Pilate’s sign “King of the Jews” made the chief priests really mad, the sky darkened, people thought Jesus was calling for Elijah, then he died.
Concise and to the point.
Mark even includes a sentence that is easily overlooked: “Then the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom”. (vs 38) Nothing more is said of this event in the book of Mark. Just the fact that it happened.
That blows me away. God ripped that veil in two like I might tear a piece of paper.
Have you ever held a mortgage or a car loan? You are enslaved to that piece of paper that holds the terms of the agreement. You think about it every month as you write that check, chipping away at the debt with every payment.
Then, one day you write the last check. The house or the car is finally yours. Debt paid! Did you take your copy of the mortgage and rip it in two? How did that feel? Did you experience a sense of freedom, relief, joy?
Paid in full! That house, or that car, is mine!!!
I think that’s a little how God must have felt when he was finally able to rip that curtain apart. That curtain separated him from us. God could not have easy access to us until that curtain came down. But Jesus died on that cross, paid the full price, and now there is no more curtain. Until today I don’t think I ever considered the significance of that from God’s point of view.
What joy he must have experienced as he felt and heard that material rip apart.
Yes, the ripping of that curtain allows us to approach the throne of God. But it also allows God to live in us, walk with us, talk to us and guide us in a personal, precious way. God created us to fellowship with him, but sin separated us. In the Old Testament we read that God instructed Moses to put up a curtain so that we could get as close to God as possible while we still owed our debt. He could only communicate with his people through the prophets. And there were years when God didn’t communicate at all.
But when Jesus paid the price… in full… there was no need for the curtain. I think God must have been pretty excited about that.
As we prepare to celebrate Easter, Jesus death on the cross and his resurrection, let’s also be aware of the privilege that is ours through the ripping apart of that veil. God has access to me and I to him because my sin debt is paid.
Dearest Father, thank you for occasionally letting us in on what you are feeling. Sometimes we think it’s all about us and we forget that you have a stake in our lives, too. I thank you for Jesus, for his death on the cross, for what his sacrifice gives me. But let me remember what it gave you, too. You love us so completely. For thousands of years your dealings with us were from behind the curtain. It must have brought you great joy to rip that curtain in two. Thank you for wanting to walk with me so much. May I never take this privilege for granted.
Jesus is coming again! Jesus, Son of God and Son of Man who died, yet lives, is going to come back with the sound of a trumpet and everyone will see it happen. The dead will rise, we who know him will meet him in the air. Oh what a day that will be. I’ll see Jesus face to face in all his glory.
The circumstances surrounding this event and what happens after is cause for great debate. But I don’t care. Trying to place signs on a timeline, or figuring out if I will be spared a great tribulation, or if Jesus will set up a material kingdom on planet Earth doesn’t matter to me.
Sure, I have an opinion based on what I read in the Bible. Others have a different opinion reading the same Bible. But my opinion – or yours- is insignificant.
What is significant is my heart’s condition before a holy God. What is significant is my witness, my love for my neighbors, my light in a dark world. The question is not will I sit in judgment over my fellow man, but will I wear Jesus’ righteousness as I personally stand before God? It’s not the size of the crown on my head, but the grace of God that allows me to be in his presence.
Jesus says no one knows when he will return. (Mark 13) All we need to know is that it is going to happen. And all Jesus wants us to do is watch. And pray. He’ll take care of the details.
And that’s ok with me.
Dear Jesus, Thank you for the assurance that you are coming again to claim me once and for all. Forgive us for the lines that are drawn because of insignificant opinions about “the end times.” May we not neglect the more important thing, life right now, our relationship with you today, and what we do in Jesus’ name to lead another lost soul to the Savior. May we all rejoice in your promise to return, may we be faithful workers, watching and praying until that trumpet sounds.
The people in Jesus’ hometown knew all about him. They knew his parents Mary and Joseph, and many of them probably sat on furniture made by Joseph, perhaps even made by Joseph’s apprentice, Jesus, before Jesus began his ministry at the age of 30.
The people knew Jesus’ brothers and sisters. Maybe some of them played on the same soccer teams or sat in the same math class in school with Jesus and his siblings. They probably had a little pride in the fame this small town boy had earned, and were quick to tell tales about him:
I remember Jesus when he was a teenager…
My son used to go fishing with Jesus when they were kids…
Sure I know Jesus. Why, once when Jesus was just a boy…
Yes, these people knew all there was to know about Jesus. But Mark 6 tells us they didn’t believe in him. They didn’t accept his teaching. They couldn’t see beyond the young man who grew up down the street, and because of that, Jesus couldn’t do great things among them. Knowing about Jesus wasn’t enough.
There is a difference between knowing about Jesus and allowing him to change us. We can read the Bible every day, but unless we take in the Words and obey them, Jesus can’t do great things in our lives. Growing up going to church doesn’t guarantee you know the LORD.
I believe Jesus wanted to pour himself out on the people in his hometown. He loved them. He grew up with them. He knew them like they knew him. But because of their unbelief, he walked away without showering them with the blessings that could have been their’s.
Don’t let that happen to you. My prayer is that each of us will give ourselves to the LORD, that we will repent of sins and allow him in.
Then watch what happens. The God of Creation, the Messiah, The Great I AM wants to do great things in your life. And He will, if you know Him.
Have you ever had a bad day… or year? You are frustrated, disappointed, angry, unhappy, and maybe you have a headache on top of everything. Then someone close to you says something stupid and you erupt. You let them have it with both barrels and say things that are just plain cruel. But when you get right down to it, they didn’t really deserve all that. It’s not their fault you are miserable.
You made them your scapegoat.
God instructed the Israelites to use a scapegoat. (Leviticus 16) They symbolically put all their sins on this goat, then released the goat into the wilderness.
It’s a picture of what Jesus did at Calvary. God wants us to put all our sins on Jesus. All of them. It wasn’t his fault that we sinned. He doesn’t deserve our punishment. But God says, give them to Jesus anyway. Then, release them.
Too many of us put that scapegoat on a leash. We let it have some lead, but then we occasionally call it back. We feel the guilt. We may even repeat the sin.
But God, through this picture in Leviticus, and through his Son, tells us to let it go. (I saw Frozen this weekend and, even though I don’t know all the words to the song, I think the tune is going to be in my head all day!)
Let God remove that sin from the camp, from our lives. Cut the chord.
But, you say, my sins are too heavy. My sin is mine to carry. My sin is too ugly to place on Jesus. Where in the Bible does it even hint at such a thing? The only sin God can’t forgive is the unconfessed sin.
Jesus told the parable of the seed. (Mark 4) Here is a better use of your effort: Repent of that sin, and let the Scapegoat take it away. Then dig in, grow in grace and knowledge of Jesus, and bear fruit. Love, joy, peace…
So much better than clinging to a goat.
My Dear Scapegoat, thank you for removing my sin, for taking it upon yourself and taking it away. Forgive me when I continue to call those sins back. Help me to do what you intend, and that is to allow you to remove my sin as far as the east is from the west, never to be used against me… ever. Thank you Jesus. Thank you for forgiveness. Thank you for allowing me to live my life free from the guilt and pain my sins deserve. May I be rooted in Scripture, and may I bear fruit for your kingdom. Help me to allow you to remove my sin, to let it go, and enjoy sweet fellowship with my Savior.
The Israelites heard the instructions from God: Bread will rain down from heaven in the morning. Go and collect what you need for today. Fix it however you want, but eat it all or throw away the leftovers. DO NOT STORE ANY OF IT OVER NIGHT. (Exodus 16)
Clear instructions, easily followed. Yet some decided for themselves that saving just a little until morning couldn’t hurt. They were wrong. The next morning they were greeted with crawling worms and a repulsive smell.
I wonder if some of us aren’t still holding on to some act of disobedience, believing it won’t stink in the morning. I mean, hasn’t God spelled out plainly what is expected of his children? Doesn’t Jesus say in no uncertain terms that he is the Way, the Truth, and the Life and no one goes to the Father except through him? Doesn’t God tell us to be holy, set apart, fleeing youthful lust, loving our neighbor, treating everyone honestly? Don’t we know that to lie, to commit adultery even in our hearts, to hate are sins? Doesn’t Scripture plainly tell us what sin is, that we all sin, and that forgiveness is required and freely given only by grace through the blood of Jesus?
Then why do we think one little lie is no big deal? Why do we think a peek at pornography doesn’t hurt anyone? How can we hold a grudge, gossip, treat someone unfairly, and think that doesn’t stink to God?
Can we believe all religions have merit, that all lifestyles are acceptable if the people practicing these things are nice people? Surely God didn’t really mean good people might be going to hell, right?
Well, what does Scripture say? Either it’s true, or it’s not. There can be no, “what if’s”. The lesson here is, if we hold on to sin… even a little… we’ll wake up in the morning with an odor that disgusts our Lord, perhaps like a wet dog sprayed by a skunk. Like manna the day after, we’ll stink, plain and simple.
I want to be a fragrance that pleases my Savior. I want my life to be lived under the blood of Jesus, praying, sharing the Gospel, making choices that please and honor him. May I be quick to recognize sin and confess it, may I never hold on to what I might think is no big deal if Scripture says it is.
I guess I would like to challenge us all to check our stink.
Jesus told us we should forgive as we have been forgiven. Yet Peter asked him how many times was he required to forgive someone who wronged him. Seven?
I mean, seven sound generous if that person continues to do things that hurt you. Jesus answered: No. Not seven. Seventy times seven. (Matt 18)
In other words, there should be no limit. Forgive as God forgives. I, for one, am thankful God didn’t reach his limit after the first seven times I did something that required his forgiveness.
Having an unforgiving heart, holding a grudge, wanting revenge, are feelings that destroy. I used to tell my students I’m too lazy to carry a grudge because it takes too much effort. And the longer you carry it, the heavier it gets.
To carry a grudge you have to feed it. You’ve got to think about that person who wronged you. You’ve got to keep replaying the memory of what they did. You find yourself talking about them. Or you purposefully ignore them. You plan your actions against them or spend time dreaming about a building falling on them.
The thing about unforgiveness is, it needs fed to stay alive. But the more you feed it, the bigger and angrier it becomes, and the harder it is to carry. Jesus knew that, and wants better for all of us.
Now don’t misunderstand. Forgiveness isn’t the same as permission. If you are in an abusive or unhealthy relationship, you need to take action. Get to safety. Report the abuse. Find other friends. Apply for another job. Don’t just stand there and allow the abuse to continue.
Then after you have walked away, forgive. But, you say, he assaulted my child, she stole my husband, he abuses me verbally, she talks about me behind my back. He doesn’t deserve my forgiveness.
Forgive.
You tell me I don’t understand, that it’s easy for me to say because I haven’t experienced what you’ve experienced. But, my friend. I’m not the one telling you to forgive. Jesus is.
Forgive.
Forgiveness isn’t the same as permission. And it’s not the same as allowing the evil to continue. What it is is a turning over to God that which hurts you. It’s trusting him to work things out for your good and his glory.
If you don’t forgive, you allow that person who hurt you to continue to hurt you. You do that. You give them control over you.
Forgive.
But, you say, she’s never asked me to forgive her.
Forgive.
Forgiveness isn’t only about the person who wronged you. It’s about you. It’s about your happiness, your health, your well-being. I personally think many emotional problems people face today have an element of unforgivness in them.
God wants us to walk with him in joy. He wants a clear path between us and him. Don’t let the actions of anyone keep you from that sweet fellowship.
Forgive.
God forgave you. Pass it on.
I thought that ad for a cellular company several years ago was a clever one. That phrase was everywhere for a while.
Who of us has never picked up a microphone and said, “Testing. Testing”?
The Bible speaks a lot about testing. Joseph tested his brothers before revealing himself to them in Egypt. (Gen 43-45) Jesus told Peter to get out of the boat and walk to him, testing Peter’s faith. (Matt 14) Psalm 11 tells us God’s “eyelids test the sons of men. The Lord tests the righteous…”
Why so much testing? (I sound like an Ohio public school teacher… and I was) Does God depend on the results of his tests to know where we stand with him?
That’s ridiculous. God already knows our hearts.
Testing, for us, has become about the test-giver. Results tell the DMV who is ready to drive a car. A math test is given so the teacher can assign a grade. But more than that, testing reveals to the test-taker what they know and how much more they can learn.
When God tests the righteous, it’s so we can know where we stand, we can identify our weaknesses, go to him and confess sin.
Do you feel you are undergoing a test from God himself? Maybe God is showing you a strength you didn’t know you had, or a weakness he’s able to strengthen, or a sin you need to confess. Maybe he wants you to know that you really do have faith in him, that you can do all things through Jesus, that you are more than a conqueror, that his promises are true.
No testing is pleasant. But the results can be life changing. Joseph discovered his brothers had truly changed in the years since they sold him into slavery. His brothers learned that they really could be faithful to their father. All of Jacob’s family learned that God can bring about good from anything Satan tries to use for evil. Peter learned he did have faith in Jesus and could walk on water in a storm. He also learned his faith wasn’t perfect.
So, what have you learned through your own times of testing?
Father, I hate tests. I hated taking tests and, as the person in charge of state testing in the middle school where I worked, I hated giving tests. So it feels kind of weird to thank you for the tests you throw my way. May I accept each test as a gift from you to encourage me, to prompt me to action, to learn more about you and walk closer to you. And, yes, may I thank you for testing me so I can know where I stand. May I use the results of those test to allow you to mold me into the woman you would have me be.
My mom died in 1996, but I can still remember how hard it was to watch my father’s grief. He was lost without her. I remember making the 60 mile trip every weekend to be with him, just to sit with him, take a ride in the car with him, watch an old movie with him, just to do what I could to help ease the burden of his grief. It’s not that I wasn’t grieving. I was. But somehow his grief looked different than mine.
When my sister lost her son in an automobile accident, watching her grief was, and is hard. There is a sadness in her smile, a tear in her laughter. And as someone who loves her, her grief breaks my heart. Watching someone you love go through tremendous grief has to effect you, too, doesn’t it?
So when I was reading in Genesis 37 this morning about Jacob’s grief over his son Joseph’s supposed death, I thought of Dad and Peggy. I could almost picture the look on Jacob’s face in the days and weeks following the horrible news because I could picture their look.
Then I found myself getting a little angry at Joseph’s brothers. How could those ten men watch their father’s grief over losing Joseph, when any one of them could have stepped up and told the truth? They had it within their power to relieve Jacob’s grief. And they did nothing. Jacob would have paid any price to buy Joseph’s freedom from slavery. Couldn’t just one of the ten of them care enough for their father to do what could be done to bring their brother back?
Maybe the brothers really did hate Joseph. But didn’t they love their dad?
Then it hit me. My Heavenly Father is grieving over his own lost children. His heart is broken when any of his children deny him, or ignore him. He agonizes over those who have yet to hear of Jesus. Every sin committed against my Heavenly Father is like a knife in the heart.
Couldn’t just one of us who are a part of his household, his family, care enough about our Father to do what can be done to relieve our Father’s grief? God will pay anything… he’s paid with his life… to buy his children out of slavery to sin.
Witnessing to a lost friend isn’t just about that friend. It’s also about our grieving Heavenly Father’s agony over our lost friend. I have to ask myself if I’m ok, knowing my Father grieves, and doing nothing about it. Can I love my Father and still be ok if he is grieving?
We Christians are in the same place Joseph’s brothers were in. We know the truth. Maybe it’s time we stepped up and did something about it.
Dear Heavenly Father, picturing you grieving over unsaved people breaks my heart. I love you. I want to picture you with a smile on your face, not tears streaming down your cheeks. What can I do to bring that smile back? Do you want me to talk to my neighbor today? Do you want me to call that person you’ve laid on my heart? Do you want me to introduce you to the waitress at the restaurant, my hair dresser, my child’s teacher? May I never be ok with the fact that you are grieving. May you find me a faithful daughter, sharing your Truth, and bringing a smile to your face. May I never be satisfied with just saying, I love you. Help me to show you how much I love you today by bringing one of your lost children home.
alighttomyway 