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Posts Tagged ‘Jesus’

Today, Jesus’s ministry begins in earnest. But before He preaches a single sermon or calls a single disciple, He is led by the Spirit into the wilderness (Matthew 4:1; Luke 4:1).

Some see those forty days of fasting as a toughening, a kind of spiritual boot camp. I see it more as a time of cleansing and focusing. Jesus sets aside everything else, and at the end of those forty days the tempter, the accuser, comes to try to divert Him.

What fascinates me is how closely the three temptations line up with the ways Israel was tested in the wilderness after God rescued them from Egypt, and failed. They grumbled about bread, and Satan tempts Jesus to make bread for Himself. They put God to the test at Massah, demanding proof He was with them, and Satan tempts Jesus to throw Himself from the temple to force God’s hand. They bowed down to a golden calf, and Satan offers Jesus all the kingdoms of the world if He will bow down to him. Every time, Jesus answers from Deuteronomy, the very book where Moses recounted Israel’s wilderness years (Deuteronomy 8:3; 6:16; 6:13). Where Israel failed, Jesus stands. He reverses the story.

And notice how Satan fights. In the second temptation, he quotes scripture himself, lifting Psalm 91 out of context to make it say something God never intended. Jesus doesn’t throw out the scripture. He answers it with scripture rightly understood: “It is written, ‘You shall not put the Lord your God to the test'” (Luke 4:12).

That is so often the way the enemy works. If he can’t keep us away from God’s Word, he’ll twist it, bending it to mean and say and do things God never meant.

We see this today in how scripture gets pulled into almost every debate. Take immigration. Some argue for open borders; that isn’t the answer. Others argue for slamming the door shut completely; that isn’t the answer either. Both sides can find a verse to wave around. What matters is looking for people who are receptive to what is true, good, and right, people who will come, honor our laws, and become part of the community.

In a far deeper way, that’s what Jesus was looking for: hearts open and receptive not only to God’s love, grace, and mercy, but also to God’s way of living. “Repent,” He preached, “for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (Matthew 4:17). The invitation was wide open, and it called for a response.

That’s exactly what stirred up His hometown. In the Nazareth synagogue, Jesus read from Isaiah that He had come to proclaim good news to the poor, liberty to the captives, and freedom for the oppressed (Luke 4:18). The people spoke well of Him, at first. Then He reminded them that in Elijah’s day God sent the prophet to a widow in Sidon, and in Elisha’s day God healed Naaman the Syrian (Luke 4:25–27). Both were outsiders. The Messiah had come not only for Israel, but for anyone, Jew or Gentile, whose heart was open to God’s mercy and grace. The same crowd that had admired Him tried to throw Him off a cliff.

And the rest of today’s reading shows Him doing exactly what He announced: healing the sick, touching a leper no one else would touch (Luke 5:13), forgiving a paralyzed man lowered through a roof (Luke 5:20), and calling a tax collector to follow Him (Luke 5:27). The downtrodden, the oppressed, the outsiders—these were the people who received Him.

So here is my takeaway today: a heart that is open. Open to God’s Word as He actually meant it, not as it can be twisted. Open to His grace, and open to His way of living. And open to love others and share God’s goodness with them, especially the ones others might overlook.

Is your heart open to God’s Word as He meant it, and to the people He is reaching for, even the ones you might not expect?

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Today’s three readings tell the same story from three angles: Jesus coming to the Jordan River to be baptized by John. It’s where His public ministry begins, and it raises questions that have shaped my own walk with God for more than four decades.

The one who prepared the way

John the Baptist had a clear assignment. He preached repentance and baptized those who responded, and the Gospel writers saw him as the fulfillment of what the prophets had foretold. Mark opens his Gospel by joining Malachi and Isaiah together:

“Behold, I send my messenger before your face, who will prepare your way, the voice of one crying in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.'” (Mark 1:2–3, ESV)

John also fit the mold of Elijah. Malachi had promised, “Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the great and awesome day of the LORD comes” (Mal. 4:5), and John’s camel’s hair clothing and leather belt (Mark 1:6) echo Elijah’s own appearance.

So many people wondered whether John himself might be the Messiah. Luke tells us, “As the people were in expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Christ…” (Luke 3:15). John was clear: he was not. Someone mightier was coming.

When Jesus showed up

Here’s what strikes me. John had spent his ministry pointing toward Jesus, yet when Jesus actually came to the river, John was surprised:

“John would have prevented him, saying, ‘I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?’ But Jesus answered him, ‘Let it be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.’ Then he consented.” (Matt. 3:14–15)

Jesus had no sin to repent of. His baptism was not a confession. It was obedience, and the Father’s response was immediate: “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased” (Matt. 3:17).

My own story of baptism

Christians have long understood baptism in different ways. In infant baptism (paedobaptism), a child is baptized or christened, committed to God with the trust that He will work in that child’s life. In believer’s baptism (credobaptism), a person who has come to recognize their need for God, repented, and received Jesus as Lord and Savior is baptized as an outward sign of that inward change.

I’ve experienced both. I was baptized as a child. But at age 23, I came to see that I’d been living with one foot in the kingdom of God and the other foot stuck out whenever it suited me. In reality, I was living outside of God’s will for my life. So I surrendered. I told the Lord I would follow Him with all that I was, and I meant everything.

Not immediately, but some time after that, I felt a prompting to be baptized by full immersion at my local church. And I obeyed.

That was 43 years ago. I’m still not sure I can fully describe what happened when I surrendered my life to Jesus. The Holy Spirit entered in a way I had never given Him control before. What I do know is this: baptism was a step of obedience I was called to take, and it was a step of obedience Jesus Himself took.

With the Holy Spirit and fire

John told the crowds what Jesus would come to do:

“I baptize you with water, but he who is mightier than I is coming, the strap of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” (Luke 3:16)

Half of that verse always grabs me: fire. Fire cleanses and purifies, burning away what doesn’t belong. Luke goes on to describe the chaff being burned (Luke 3:17).

The other half, the baptism in the Holy Spirit, is something I have experienced personally. I know that’s somewhat controversial in some circles. For me it has meant the Spirit’s empowerment to lead and direct me as I’ve submitted my mind, my will, and even my tongue to the Lord.

There are times when I pray in languages I do not know. It’s still within my control whether I do so, but when I do, I don’t understand the words. I simply know God is moving and that He is praying through me. Paul wrote, “We do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words” (Rom. 8:26). When God pours His Spirit into us, He works in the spiritual realm in ways that have real impact in the natural one.

Different gifts, one Spirit

I want to be careful not to be misunderstood. Not everyone receives the same gifting. Paul said, “All these are empowered by one and the same Spirit, who apportions to each one individually as he wills” (1 Cor. 12:11). Not everyone will pray in other languages.

Some people carry a gift and calling for evangelism that I simply don’t have. I’ve tried! But as I understand it, my calling is to be first and foremost a man of prayer, and the gifting I’ve received lines up with that calling.

What is true for all of us is this: as God’s children, we are connected to Him by His Spirit. He equips us, prepares us, and gives us assignments, carried out through both the natural abilities He has given us and the supernatural gifts of His Spirit. Those gifts are part of the package of belonging to Him.

A question to consider

At the Jordan, Jesus chose obedience, and the heavens opened. So let me ask: What step of obedience is God calling you to take today, and are you willing to let His Spirit, and His fire, have full control?

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Matthew 2

Matthew 2 gives us a snapshot of a narrow window of time, when Jesus was about two years old or a little younger, likely around 6 BC. In just 23 verses, God speaks to people through dreams no fewer than four times.

Joseph receives three of them. First he is warned of Herod’s murderous intent and told to flee to Egypt. Next he learns that Herod is dead and it is time to return to Israel. Finally he is directed to settle his family in Galilee. Each time, Joseph acts right away. After the first dream, Matthew tells us, “he rose and took the child and his mother by night and departed to Egypt” (Matthew 2:14, ESV). He left by night, without waiting for morning.

The fourth dream goes to the wise men: “And being warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed to their own country by another way” (Matthew 2:12). These men were almost certainly not Jewish. They were most likely astrologers from the East who watched the heavens for signs. Look at how God first got their attention. He did not send them a scroll. He put a star in the sky, where they were already looking.

God speaks in a language we can hear

I recently learned how differently our imaginations work. My son-in-law and grandson don’t see pictures when they read; some people call this “aphantasia.” That surprised me, because when I read, the scenes play out vividly in my mind. I would rather read a good book than see a movie, because movies usually fall short of what I imagined.

I suspect God’s communication with each of us is fitted to how we are wired. “O LORD, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar” (Psalm 139:1–2). He knows us better than we know ourselves. He knew a dream would reach Joseph and move him to act. He knew a star would reach men who studied the sky. Hebrews opens by saying that “at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son” (Hebrews 1:1–2).

Paul widens this in Romans 1. Creation itself speaks: “For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made” (Romans 1:20). Some people hold to a belief in no God, and others to a God who cannot be known. Yet the order, complexity, and fine-tuning of the universe keep pointing to a Designer. For anyone willing to look honestly, God’s message is that He IS, and that He can be KNOWN.

When the message doesn’t get through

Matthew 2 also shows people who did not hear.

Herod heard the news of a newborn King and was “troubled.” His position and power had become his god, and idols block out the Son. To protect his throne, he ordered every boy two years old and under in Bethlehem killed. I can’t help thinking about the soldiers who carried out that order. They did not hear God either.

The chief priests and scribes are even more striking. When Herod asked where the Messiah would be born, they answered at once: Bethlehem, just as Micah had written. They had the right verse, and they were about six miles away. As far as we know, not one of them went. Foreign astrologers crossed a desert to worship, while the Bible scholars stayed home. Knowing the answer is not the same as hearing God.

If God speaks to each of us in a way we can hear, why do so few respond? We’ll return to that question in the coming weeks, as Jesus begins His ministry and is joyfully received by some and rejected by others, a road that ends at the cross.

The time God did not intervene

In Matthew 2, God moves through those who listen, and Jesus’ life is protected. About thirty years later, God does not intervene. Jesus himself said He could ask His Father and “he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels” (Matthew 26:53). No angels were sent, and no dream warned anyone away. The Father who rescued His Son from Herod’s sword chose not to rescue Him from the cross.

We are all so blessed because He didn’t. “He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” (Romans 8:32).

For reflection: God spoke to the wise men through stars and to Joseph through dreams. How has He been speaking to you, and what might be keeping you from hearing it, the way Herod’s throne or the scribes’ comfort kept them from Bethlehem?

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Reading: Luke 2 and Matthew 1

Today the Gospel’s counter-cultural view of women stood out to me. Jesus’ message was so often aimed at the poor, the overlooked, and the marginalized, and that thread is quietly present from the very first pages of both Luke and Matthew.

Two Women, Two Songs

Yesterday the chief characters were Mary and Elizabeth, two women pregnant in the most unusual of ways: one too old, one never with a husband. And both of them lift their voices to God in rich, Scripture-soaked praise. Elizabeth cries out, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb!” (Luke 1:42). Mary answers:

“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant.” (Luke 1:46–48)

“He has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate.” (Luke 1:52)

The Women in the Family Tree

Today we read the genealogy of Jesus, and amazingly, there are women in it. Ancient genealogies traced the line through the fathers. Yet Matthew deliberately names four women before Mary, and not the ones you might expect:

“and Judah the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar…” (Matthew 1:3)

“and Salmon the father of Boaz by Rahab, and Boaz the father of Obed by Ruth…” (Matthew 1:5)

“and David was the father of Solomon by the wife of Uriah…” (Matthew 1:6)

Tamar, whose story in Genesis 38 is one of deception and scandal. Rahab, a Canaanite prostitute from Jericho. Ruth, a Moabite, from a people Israel was forbidden to welcome into the assembly. Bathsheba, named only as “the wife of Uriah” the Hittite, a reminder of David’s adultery and murder. Gentiles and scandals, written right into the bloodline of the Messiah.

This is a striking departure from the safe, sanitized, male-dominated world that would normally have been the audience for written material. God’s reach is universal. All are welcome. All are invited to enter in.

“There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians 3:28)

An Old Man and a Widow

After 400 years of silence, the Holy Spirit lets two people know that the Messiah has arrived, as a baby. The first is Simeon:

“Now there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon, and this man was righteous and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. And it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ.” (Luke 2:25–26)

He takes the child in his arms and says what no one in that Temple expected to hear:

“Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.” (Luke 2:29–32)

Then comes Anna:

“And there was a prophetess, Anna, the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was advanced in years, having lived with her husband seven years from when she was a virgin, and then as a widow until she was eighty-four. She did not depart from the temple, worshiping with fasting and prayer night and day. And coming up at that very hour she began to give thanks to God and to speak of him to all who were waiting for the redemption of Jerusalem.” (Luke 2:36–38)

I have to wonder what everyone else in the Temple was thinking that day. How easy it is to disregard the elderly. How easy to patronize an old widow spouting off what sounds like nonsense about the Messiah. Here was a woman who had somehow survived fifty or sixty years as a widow in a society with no welfare system, and she was ecstatic. The Messiah is here!

As I sit and ponder the scene, I can see the whispers spreading. I can see hope stirred, only to be followed by a letdown when the child and His family disappear back to Nazareth. And yet God was preparing the soil. God was planting seeds. An old man at the end of his life speaking of the inclusion of the Gentiles, easy for faithful Jews to dismiss. A widow, easy to discount because she was a woman. But God didn’t dismiss or discount them. He gave them the Spirit, gave them a prophetic voice, and gave them the responsibility of announcing the arrival of the coming King. And He made sure Luke recorded Anna’s name.

Humble Circumstances Don’t Disqualify

Humble circumstances do not disqualify us. In fact, they are often the exact environment God uses to reveal Himself. The first announcement of Jesus’ birth went to shepherds in a field: “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people” (Luke 2:10).

“But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong.” (1 Corinthians 1:27)

God does not despise our failures:

“The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.” (Psalm 51:17)

Does He hate sin? Yes. Did He die for the sinner? Yes. “But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). No one is too far from His love and mercy.

The only ones who miss the fullness of God’s grace are those too proud to respond to His kindness. Those too busy to think about things eternal. Those who can’t be bothered to listen to the humble who are pointing to Jesus.

“God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” (James 4:6)

A Song in the Terminal

Here is what amazed me this morning. I’m sitting in an airport getting ready for an early flight. The terminal is chaotic, under heavy construction, and seating is limited. I’ve had a hard time concentrating because of a group behind me, friendly banter, but loud. Then suddenly they left. In the brief lull, I could hear the music playing over the loudspeaker, and I was stunned.

It was an instrumental version of “Goodness of God.” Playing in a secular airport, in the Midwest, at the very moment I was pondering how the Good News is so often carried in subtle, unexpected ways.

By an elderly widow. By an old man at the end of his life. By a barren woman pregnant long past childbearing age. By a teenage girl with no husband and a mighty strange story. And through a gospel song drifting over the public address system in an airport in Omaha.

It reminded me of Elijah, who didn’t find God in the wind, the earthquake, or the fire, but in “the sound of a low whisper” (1 Kings 19:12). Sometimes the noise has to clear before we can hear it.

“I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living!” (Psalm 27:13)

We bask in the goodness of God for sure.

For reflection: Who in your life might be an “Anna” or a “Simeon,” someone easy to overlook who may be pointing you to Jesus, and what noise might you need to quiet in order to hear them?

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When I was a kid, our family would pile into the car for long road trips to national parks. We’d barely be out of the driveway (fifteen minutes, maybe) before one of us kids would ask, “Are we there yet? How much farther?”

After 273 days walking through the Old Testament, we have finally arrived. It’s like passing through the entrance into Yosemite. Today we open Luke 1 and John 1, and the story we’ve been traveling toward since Genesis comes into view.

Two Writers, Two Lenses

The four Gospels come to us from eyewitness testimony, but each writer views Jesus through a different lens. Luke was a historian. As a Gentile writing a few decades after the resurrection, he set out to explain Jesus the man, rooted in Jewish tradition, to a Gentile audience. He tells us his method right up front:

“Inasmuch as many have undertaken to compile a narrative of the things that have been accomplished among us, just as those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word have delivered them to us, it seemed good to me also, having followed all things closely for some time past, to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, that you may have certainty concerning the things you have been taught.” (Luke 1:1–4)

John, a Jew, writes to show us Jesus as God. That was a sharp left turn from what his people expected. They were looking for a Messiah who would be a military leader and king, one who would drive out Rome. John shows them someone far greater.

The 400 Silent Years

I’ve been thinking about the roughly 400 years between Malachi and the arrival of Jesus. No prophet spoke. No scripture was written. History records a great deal from that time, but none of it was received as God’s Word. And yet those silent years were anything but idle. God was setting the stage.

Alexander the Great conquered most of the known world and spread a common language, Greek, across it. The Romans came behind him as builders, laying a network of roads that would one day carry the message of Jesus to the ends of the earth. Rome also refined crucifixion into its cruelest form of execution. And a religious party called the Pharisees, unknown in Malachi’s day, rose up with deep devotion to the Scriptures but also built “fences” of rules around them. Those fences turned faith into religious duty and made it hard for ordinary people to approach God. Jesus would spend much of His ministry tearing them down:

“They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to move them with their finger.” (Matthew 23:4)

That conflict with the religious leaders would lead to the cross. Paul sums up all of this preparation in one phrase:

“But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons.” (Galatians 4:4–5)

The silence wasn’t absence. It was God arranging the world for His Son.

The Sun Rises

Here’s a connection I had never noticed before. The Old Testament closes with this promise:

“But for you who fear my name, the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings.” (Malachi 4:2)

Malachi’s last words also promise a forerunner: “Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the great and awesome day of the LORD comes. And he will turn the hearts of fathers to their children” (Malachi 4:5–6). Then, after four centuries of silence, the very first words from heaven in Luke pick up right where Malachi left off. The angel tells Zechariah his son John

“will go before him in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children… to make ready for the Lord a people prepared.” (Luke 1:17)

When John is born, Zechariah breaks into praise. What strikes me is that he doesn’t get carried away about having a son. He’s overjoyed that God is ushering in a new era, and he knows his boy has a part in preparing for it:

“And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways… because of the tender mercy of our God, whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.” (Luke 1:76, 78–79)

Malachi’s rising sun becomes Zechariah’s sunrise from on high.

Back to the Beginning

John the disciple takes us even further back, all the way to creation:

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made.” (John 1:1–3)

He’s echoing Genesis on purpose:

“In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.” (Genesis 1:1–3)

All three persons of the Trinity are present at creation: God the Father creating, the Spirit hovering, and God speaking, the Word that John identifies as Jesus, the active agent in creation. And notice the thread of light running from the first page to this one. “Let there be light” in Genesis. The rising sun in Malachi. The sunrise from on high in Zechariah’s song. And now John:

“In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:4–5)

“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14)

We’re Here

Everything written before has been moving toward this moment. Over a hundred prophecies point to Jesus, and now God sovereignly sends Him, the Lamb of God born as a man, to die a death that opens the door for anyone who will call on Him:

“Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29)

“But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.” (John 1:12)

We’re not fifteen minutes out of the driveway anymore. We’ve arrived. I am ready for this adventure.

For reflection: God’s people waited through 400 silent years while He was quietly arranging everything for the coming of His Son. Where in your life does God seem silent right now, and what might He be preparing in that silence?

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This morning, over coffee, I read Malachi and finished the Old Testament for 2026. There’s something fitting about ending the year’s journey through Israel’s story with this book. It’s the last prophetic word before centuries of silence, and it leaves us leaning forward, waiting for what God will do next.

How I Used to Read Malachi

For most of my life I’ve read Malachi through two lenses.

The first is the tithe. Malachi is blunt: “Will man rob God? Yet you are robbing me” (Malachi 3:8). The people were holding back from God, and He challenges them to bring the full tithe into the storehouse and put Him to the test, to see if He will not open the windows of heaven and pour down a blessing until there is no more need (3:10). Our tendency to shortchange God and His promise to bless faithfulness have always stood out to me.

The second is the ending. Malachi prepares us for John the Baptist, the messenger who would prepare the way (3:1), the Elijah who would come before the great day of the Lord (4:5–6). The Old Testament closes by pointing ahead.

Both of those are true and important. But this time, reading Malachi as a whole, I saw much more in these four short chapters.

A Minor Prophet with a Major Punch

Malachi is classified as a minor prophet, but he delivers a major punch. Point by point, he exposes how hollow religious practice falls short of what God has called His people to.

The book opens with God saying, “I have loved you.” The people answer, “How have you loved us?” (1:2). That pattern repeats throughout the book. God speaks of His love, His calling, how He set them apart and blessed them, and the people push back with questions and excuses. They offer blemished sacrifices. The priests grow careless. They grow weary of worship and even say, “It is vain to serve God” (3:14).

They were doing religion, but they weren’t getting it.

Duty or Relationship?

I think getting it is where we cross from religious duty into relationship with God.

Religious duty is, sadly, the main way people approach God. It’s why the world has so many religions: each is a human attempt to build a road to God. Even people who recognize that there must be an intelligent designer behind creation often set up their own process for acknowledging Him and reaching Him.

But God has already made the way. That’s what Malachi keeps pressing toward. God calls His people to repent and to trust Him with everything. The tithe is part of that trust. Obedience to the law is part of that trust. But the heart of it is a turning of the whole person toward God.

That’s the same message Jesus proclaims when He steps onto the scene: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (Matthew 4:17). Malachi sets the table, and Jesus picks up the call.

The Book of Remembrance

The part that moved me most today is Malachi 3:16–17. In the middle of a people arguing with God, there is a remnant whose hearts are soft and tender toward Him. They grieve over the evil around them. They talk with one another about the Lord. And God hears.

“Then those who feared the LORD spoke with one another. The LORD paid attention and heard them, and a book of remembrance was written before him of those who feared the LORD and esteemed his name. ‘They shall be mine, says the LORD of hosts, in the day when I make up my treasured possession.'” (Malachi 3:16–17)

Throughout the Old Testament there are long lists of names: priests and Levites serving in the temple, families returning from exile, genealogies that most of us are tempted to skim. It’s remarkable that all those names were recorded. And here Malachi shows us why. God keeps a record. He knows His people.

Let’s drill into that. He knows us intimately. He loves us as individuals, and He relates to us as people He loves. We are His treasured possession.

What an astounding thought. The Creator of the universe, the One who cast the stars into place, who designed the atom and how protons, neutrons, and electrons hold together to form all matter, knows you. Not just humanity in general. You. And He loves you enough that He sent His Son to die for you, and He recorded that saving plan across the pages of Scripture, beginning long before Bethlehem.

I’m blown away by that.

The Sun of Righteousness

Malachi’s last chapter includes one of my favorite promises:

“But for you who fear my name, the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings.” (Malachi 4:2)

The word is sun, S-U-N. But every time I read it, I hear S-O-N. I can’t help it, because that’s who the entire Old Testament has been looking toward. Every sacrifice, every prophet, every promise, every list of names has been leaning forward to Jesus.

Looking Ahead

After Malachi come roughly 400 years without a recorded prophetic word before Jesus arrives. A lot happened in those years, and maybe that’s a conversation for another day. For today, I want to sit with how Malachi closes the Old Testament: summing up Israel’s long story of God’s faithfulness and His people’s struggle, and pointing straight toward God’s great climactic act of sending His Son.

God isn’t looking for hollow religious performance. He’s looking for tender hearts that turn to Him, trust Him, and know they are known.

So here’s my question for you: Are you approaching God out of duty, trying to build your own road to Him, or have you stepped into the relationship He’s already made possible through Jesus?


Scripture quotations are from the ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), © 2001 by Crossway. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

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This morning my spirit rose as I read of the dedication of the rebuilt wall in Jerusalem (Nehemiah 12). Two great choirs processed around the top of the wall, trumpets sounding, and the joy of Jerusalem was heard far away. I could picture it, because I’ve been in rooms like that: thousands of Jesus followers, hands lifted, faces turned upward, rejoicing in the salvation Jesus bought with His blood.

Then the story turns. Nehemiah goes back to the king in Susa, and when he returns he finds the people have already slid. The Levites haven’t been paid and have left for their fields. The Sabbath is a market day. The people have intermarried with the nations around them. An enemy of God’s people has been given a room inside the temple itself. Nehemiah is furious, and he cleans house. Yet the book ends not with triumph but with a prayer: “Remember me, O my God, for good” (Nehemiah 13:31).

It struck me that Ezra and Nehemiah both end this way. Two godly men made bold, faithful attempts to lead the people back to the law, and both saw only partial success. Which is to say, the people could not keep the whole law. And neither can we.

Consider where things stood. The Jews were back in the promised land, but few in number. There was a temple, but when its foundation was laid, the old men who remembered Solomon’s temple wept aloud (Ezra 3:12). It was a shadow of the former glory. And the presence of God, the cloud that filled the first temple so completely the priests couldn’t stand to minister (2 Chronicles 5:14), never came down on this one. Ezekiel had watched the glory depart (Ezekiel 10). Scripture never records it returning to that second temple.

But God had not forgotten His promise. Through the prophet Haggai He had said of this humble house, “The latter glory of this house shall be greater than the former” (Haggai 2:9). And Malachi, prophesying to these same backsliding people, promised that the Lord they sought would suddenly come to His temple (Malachi 3:1). Then heaven went quiet for four centuries.

And one day, a young couple carried their baby into that temple, and old Simeon took Him in his arms and said, “My eyes have seen Your salvation” (Luke 2:30). The glory had returned, not in a cloud, but in flesh. “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory” (John 1:14).

That’s why Nehemiah’s story ends unfinished. Walls, reforms, and renewed vows could not fix the human heart. Nehemiah could chase merchants out of the gates, but he could not write the law on anyone’s heart. Only God could do that, and He promised He would (Jeremiah 31:33). The unfinished business of Nehemiah was finished at the cross.

Psalm 126 gives voice to that longing: “When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dream… Restore our fortunes, O LORD.” It’s a psalm sung by people who had tasted restoration but were still waiting for more. Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy. The returned exiles sowed in tears. We reap in Christ.

I recognize myself in Nehemiah’s people. I have stood in worship with my heart ablaze and then, a few weeks later, found I had quietly let the Sabbath slip, let other things take the room reserved for God. My reforms don’t hold either. Thank God my hope isn’t in my own wall-building, but in the One who dwells in me by His Spirit and will finish the good work He began (Philippians 1:6).

Where in your life have you been relying on your own reforms and resolutions, when what you really need is the presence of the One who alone can finish the work?

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Areliablefaith Reflection

A few days ago, on a beach in Marina di Ragusa, Sicily, I found myself staring at a McDonald’s. Not because I wanted a hamburger, but because of where it was sitting — right on the water, in about as prime a location as you could ask for, surrounded by genuine, family-run trattorias that had clearly been there for generations. It struck me as strange. How does an American fast-food chain end up on a stretch of coastline like this? And more than that — would it even survive next to businesses built on real family history and craft?

That question sat with me for a couple of days, and it pulled up a memory from a book I read a long time ago: Tom Peters’ In Search of Excellence: Lessons from America’s Best-Run Companies. McDonald’s was one of the companies Peters studied, and one line from it has stuck with me for years. He observed that McDonald’s never set out to make the single best-tasting hamburger in the world. What they pursued instead was consistency — a hamburger that tasted the same whether you bought it in the U.S., in Canada, in Japan, or, apparently, on a beach in Sicily.

Lisa and I ended up going back to that same McDonald’s — not for the burgers, but for a cappuccino and, of all things, a croissant, which is not exactly a McDonald’s staple back home. And as I drank that cappuccino, I realized it tasted exactly like the one I’d had in Michigan a few months earlier, and the one I’d had in South Carolina before that. Different continent, different culture, same cup. That’s not an accident. That’s the entire business model.

It got me thinking about my own walk with God.

God isn’t asking me to be the spiritual equivalent of the “best-tasting hamburger” — spectacular, polished, impressive from day one. What He seems to be after isn’t perfection out of the gate. It’s surrender, and it’s consistency — showing up again and again, letting Him shape the heart a little more each time.

“Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” — Philippians 1:6

“Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.” — Philippians 3:12

But here’s where I have to be honest with myself, because I’ve recently caught myself twisting that very idea. I’ve been using YouVersion to read the Bible daily, and somewhere along the way, “consistency” quietly turned into “streak.” I started feeling real stress about keeping a number going, rather than about actually meeting God in the text. The goal was never a badge or a counter. The goal was to see Him in His Word and let it inform my heart. Somewhere along the way, the tracking became the target.

It’s not a new problem. It’s the same thing Jesus called out in Matthew 23 — people who were relentlessly consistent in the letter of practice while neglecting “the weightier matters.” Or Isaiah 29:13 — a people whose lips were near God while their hearts stayed far away. Discipline is not the same thing as devotion. It’s possible to be perfectly consistent and still miss the point entirely.

“These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.” — Isaiah 29:13

The consistency worth pursuing isn’t the visible, countable kind — the streak, the box checked, the record kept. It’s the invisible kind: returning to Him, again and again, not because a number depends on it, but because that’s where life actually is.

A Question to Sit With

Where in your walk with God has faithfulness quietly turned into a performance metric — and what would it look like this week to return to the relationship instead of the record?

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Judges 1-2. Having read through the Bible multiple years now, when we hit Judges, the life of the nation of Israel becomes one or two steps forward and two or three steps backwards. The Bible is one unified story that points to Jesus. But to do that, it also has to describe the reason for Jesus’ coming which is our absolute need for a savior. This is true of us as a society. It is true of me and everyone else individually. As Paul says in the seventh chapter of his letter to the church at Rome – “Woe is me… the good I would do, I don’t do; and that which I know not to do, that is what I do… who will save me from this wretched condition?” The answer is Jesus. What Paul cries out about is demonstrated through Israel in the book of Judges. Israel demonstrates this up and down nature of our humanity through a series of slides into depravity followed by subjugation leading to crying out to God for help. God raises up a leader to rescue them, followed by relative peace that eventually descends into depravity again and the whole process starts over.

There is another layer to the stories in Judges that we might easily miss. In these first two chapters, the narrator gives us a list of all the areas where the Israelites did not drive out the Canaanites who were living there. The people living in the land worshipped other gods. They sacrificed their children. They included various immoral practices into their “worship” such as cult prostitutes. The Lord had clearly said the existing inhabitants must be removed from the land or they would become a snare and trap for the Israelites. We will see this play out in ever-increasing ways through Judges.

There is a direct correlation to the life of a person when they come to Christ. We are to consistently drive out the sin habits that we have developed over our life prior to entering into the saving relationship with Jesus. It is not clean your act up to be saved. It is totally the fact that we are a new creation, and we are to live like it. Through the forgiveness we receive in Jesus and the empowerment of the Holy Spirit living in us, we can live a different life. We are to crucify the flesh or the ways of the old nature.  Every area that we do not deal with will become a foothold for the enemy. Left unaddressed, the foothold becomes a stronghold. Before long, our life will be one of domination by God’s (and ours) enemy because we didn’t deal with the sin habit when the Holy Spirit first revealed it to us.

The solution is simple. Paul shouts it out in Romans 8… Thanks be to God for Jesus! Jesus broke the power of Satan, of sin, as well as the fear of death. Starting with this reality which Jesus purchased for all humanity at the cross, we look to Him and, by the power of the Holy Spirit, we reject and pull down every thought, every sin habit that we might once have embraced. We do not let them live and have dominion over us.

As we live into Holy Week this year, we see and we model Jesus’ focus on the Father and the Father’s good plan. Painful though it was, Jesus knew it was God’s way, it was the only way to save us… to save me… to save you. And as His children, He has a good plan beyond our salvation, as good as that is. He wants to sanctify us. He wants us to live in peace. He wants our lives to point to Him. So, we will set our face towards the Father, and we will drive out anything and everything in our life that would turn us away from following Him faithfully.

Help us LORD to crucify everything that is not of you. We desire to live lives surrendered. And we say yes to the active part of surrender… laying down our lives and all lesser loves to embrace you and your ways. To you be the glory faithful Lord, you who entered into Jerusalem knowing what lie before you, knowing that you did not deserve to die such an ignominious death. But you did it for us. You did it for me. Thank you Jesus.

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Joshua 22-24, The progression here is the plan for every believer and follower of Jesus. We are to choose the Lord. This is not a one-time activity. It is a recurring choice we get to make over and over. This is the essence of faith, choosing the Lord and following Him every day until it is the only thing we know to do.

Now choosing Him is easy when life is good. Life isn’t always good. In fact, there are many times when life is hard. It is in hard times when it is essential that we cling tightly to the LORD. When our children were little, a game they loved to play was to sit on my foot and wrap their arms around my leg while I walked. I remember their giggles and squeals as I would walk around asking my wife if she liked my new shoes. If they did not cling tightly though, they would fall off. This picture comes to mind when I think of clinging. There is such a close personal nature to clinging when I think of this. God is a good, good Father who desires that we hold onto Him, hold onto His promises, hold onto His way of living such that the third word comes into play.

The reality is our lives will be a witness to something. The question is what do we bear witness to? Do we just blend in with the world and its brokenness… its misplaced faith… its fears… its corruption? Or do we bear witness to the living God who is at work transforming our lives day by day, well-made choice by well-made choice. As we choose and as we cling, our lives will reflect the love and goodness of God more and more.

Today is Palm Sunday. Jesus rode into Jerusalem to lots of external fanfare, yet He knew what lie before Him. He saw the cross looming on the near horizon. Living in Roman occupied territory, Jesus had certainly seen the gruesome displays of Roman justice, so He had no illusions about what was coming. Yet He chose to obey. He chose to ride into the coming maelstrom. And He did so clinging to the Father, trusting His plan, trusting His heart. And today, Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection are the central point of all history, a glorious witness of God’s love and desire that ALL mankind might choose, cling, and bear witness to Him.

Blessed LORD, we choose you today. We cling to you today. LORD, make our lives a faithful witness to your love and goodness to each and every person we meet today. In Jesus’ Name!

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