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Posts Tagged ‘Prayer’

Luke 14–15

On Monday mornings when I’m in town, I meet with a few friends to pray. Yesterday we prayed for the fruit of the Spirit from Galatians to be evident in the Church: “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control” (Galatians 5:22–23). One of the men said he found it interesting that humility isn’t on the list. Before I’d really thought about it, I said, “Humility is the tree on which the fruit of the Spirit grows.” I was a little surprised to hear myself say it. But this morning, reading Luke 14 and 15, Jesus returns to humility again and again.

A Word About “Hate”

In Luke 14:26 Jesus says, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.” In the language and thinking of Jesus’ day, “hate” in this sense means to love less, not the bitter hostility we usually mean by the word. Matthew records the same teaching this way: “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me” (Matthew 10:37). We also know Jesus doesn’t mean hatred in our modern sense, because of how He honored His own mother, and because He rebuked the religious leaders for using their traditions to avoid caring for their parents.

Jesus is saying that following Him is to be our highest love, with every other relationship ranked below it. After 41 years of marriage, I’ve learned that when I follow Jesus with my utmost, I love my wife and others better. When my attention turns to myself, or when any other relationship takes first place, I have less love both for others and for God.

The Younger Son: Humbled, Then Humble

The story of the prodigal son shows how humility is the tree the fruit grows on. For a long time I thought prodigal meant rebellious. It actually means wasteful, and that’s what the younger son was. He took his inheritance and “squandered his property in reckless living” (Luke 15:13). Then a famine came, which would have made life hard even for someone with resources, and he had none. He ended up feeding pigs. For a Jewish young man, that was the bottom rung of the ladder, and then some.

In that place of being humbled, he chose humility: “I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants” (Luke 15:19). In that humility he went home, and the father ran to him and lavished love on his lost, wandering, wasteful son. Humility started the process that leads to good fruit.

The Older Son: Dutiful, but Proud

Most parables drive home one main point. This one seems to give us two, and both are about humility: one son who found it and one who lacked it.

The older son was dutiful, obedient, and hardworking. What he didn’t have was the humility to recognize that the father was the source and the owner, the one through whom every blessing came, and that he was also his father, worthy of honor. Instead he threw a fit. He already got his inheritance. Why does he get the fattened calf? I’ve been here working the whole time. Where’s my party? That’s pride, not humility. And the father’s answer is gentle: “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours” (Luke 15:31).

Jesus ends the story there, with the older brother standing outside the party. The Pharisees He was speaking to were zealous for the Scriptures, and some of them did come to believe. Acts mentions “believers who belonged to the party of the Pharisees” (Acts 15:5). If they opened their hearts with a little humility, everything they knew from the Word pointed to Jesus as the promised Messiah.

The Fruit Grows from the Tree

So today I’m thinking about humility and a life of intimacy with God that produces love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. That fruit comes as we humble ourselves, grow closer to God, mature spiritually, and let the things of God take precedence over the things of this world. As Jesus said, “Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you” (Matthew 6:33). That is what the tree of humility provides.

Which son do you most resemble right now: the one who needed to be humbled, or the one who needed to recognize he was always at home?

Have a blessed day, and be a blessing to someone.

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John 7–8

The tug-of-war over truth has been, and still is, one of the most contentious struggles in human existence. Much conflict has come from differing worldviews, each built on a different understanding of what is true. Religions are founded on what a group of people believes to be true. For that matter, people who reject religion do so because of what they believe is true and what is not.

At this point in John’s Gospel, Jesus is about midway through His ministry. John wasn’t mainly concerned with chronological order. His goal was to paint a clear picture of Jesus as God, and he does this by capturing critical moments in Jesus’ ministry. Today’s scene takes place in Jerusalem during the Feast of Booths, one of the pilgrimage feasts every faithful Jew was expected to attend.

By now the religious leaders are deeply troubled by Jesus’ teaching. His picture of the Kingdom of God, and what He says about Himself, about them, and about God, threatens their carefully structured religious order. Their reputations, their livelihoods, and the whole system are at risk if Jesus keeps preaching this upside-down kingdom. They sit at the top of that system, and Jesus threatens to overturn it if people keep listening to Him and following Him.

Today’s exchange goes to the heart of that conflict. Here’s the thing about truth: while our individual perceptions and understanding of what is true may vary, there is ultimate truth. I’m decent at math. 2 + 2 = 4. If mankind had never gotten good at math, space exploration would never have become reality. Putting a man on the moon couldn’t have happened. There is real, objective truth.

Because I was decent at math, I became an engineer. When I learned the second law of thermodynamics, I saw a truth explaining why things slow down, degrade, and deteriorate unless some outside source puts energy into the system. Years later, I dug out my old thermodynamics textbook and found a fascinating note from the authors. They wrote that the second law of thermodynamics is evidence of an external Creator. They didn’t go so far as to point to any particular religion, but they stated plainly that a Creator must exist because of it.

So we circle back to today’s exchange between Jesus and the religious leaders. They are disputing with Jesus, but they can’t muster a real argument against what He’s teaching, so they resort to attacking His character. Because Jesus won’t toe the religious party line, He must be of the devil: “Are we not right in saying that you are a Samaritan and have a demon?” (John 8:48, ESV).

Only in the last few years have I really noticed something: the religious leaders repeatedly accused Jesus of breaking the Law, yet Jesus never broke the Law. He broke the religious rules they had built up around the Law.

Jesus appealed to the Law and the Prophets often, frequently expanding on what they meant. That was common among religious teachers of His day. What was uncommon was the authority He spoke with and the authority He invoked. He went over the religious leaders’ heads. He didn’t carry their credentials (“How is it that this man has learning, when he has never studied?” John 7:15, ESV), yet He spoke like the most learned of teachers.

Sadly, arguments about truth today devolve quickly into personal attacks. Nowhere is that more visible than in political discourse. And because so much political discourse invokes religion, religious discussion also drifts from a pursuit of truth into arguments untethered from that pursuit, arguments more about winning than about what is true.

But we must come back to the reality that there is ultimate truth, and there is an external Creator who determines what is true. Jesus’ claims in today’s reading are huge on both counts. In John 8:31–32, He tells everyone listening, and the millions who have since read or heard these words, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (ESV). He doesn’t sugarcoat it. He is the One who teaches what is true. A little later in John’s Gospel He takes it a step further: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6, ESV). Bold words. Words He then backed up by dying on the cross, a substitutionary death for every person who puts their trust in Him.

But that isn’t the only truth bomb Jesus drops on these religious leaders. All of what Jesus taught is truth to live by, but as the argument heats up and they accuse Him of being in league with the devil, Jesus turns it back on them (“You are of your father the devil,” John 8:44, ESV). Then He makes a claim that sends them into a frenzy: “Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I am” (John 8:58, ESV).

Jesus claims to have existed before Abraham, which is a God-move by itself. Then He doubles down by using the divine name the LORD gave Moses at the burning bush: “Say this to the people of Israel: I AM has sent me to you” (Exodus 3:14, ESV).

It is impossible to overstate how big this claim is. Any argument against Christianity has to find some way to diminish who Jesus is. People will accept that He was a good man, a good teacher, even a prophet, but not God. The trouble is, that doesn’t fit the facts. Jesus claimed to be God. There are many other places He does so, but this one stands out, because the religious leaders understood exactly what He was saying, and they hated Him for it. They picked up stones to kill Him (John 8:59).

C.S. Lewis laid out what’s often summarized as the trilemma in Mere Christianity: there are only three options for who Jesus was. He was a liar, a lunatic, or He was, and is, Lord.  Lewis’ warning was against the common notion that Jesus could be merely a great moral teacher without being divine. He wrote: “I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: ‘I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept His claim to be God.’ That is the one thing we must not say. A man who said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic – on a level with the man who says he is a poached egg – or else he would be the devil of hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon, or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to” (C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity)

When we face this question honestly, the only way to truly answer it is to do what Jesus said in John 8:31–32: abide in His word and come to know the truth. When we do, we run smack-dab into capital-T Truth… and His name is Jesus.

Who do you say Jesus is: a good teacher, or the great I AM?

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Matthew 17 & Mark 9 · Oct 21, 2026 · @Daniel

For the first nine months of the year, my reading plan takes me chronologically through the Old Testament. It has its highlights, moments of hope and joy and places where God moves in mighty ways. But it is always looking forward, leaning toward the One who is coming.

Then you reach the Gospels, and everything changes. They’re packed with grace and with truth for living. As we watch Jesus, listen to Jesus, and see Him act on behalf of people, God is clearly signaling that something new has arrived. What was foretold for centuries is coming to pass. The kingdom of God is here, and Jesus demonstrates it again and again.

Three Witnesses on the Mountain

At the end of Matthew 16 and the start of Mark 9, Jesus makes a striking promise: some standing there “will not taste death until they see the kingdom of God after it has come with power” (Mark 9:1). People have read that as pointing to the resurrection, or to Pentecost. I lean toward the Transfiguration, which comes six days later. The way the Gospel writers set it up, that statement seems to lead right into it.

My thoughts went in a slightly odd direction today. Why did Jesus choose just three, Peter, James, and John, to see it?

Elsewhere in the Gospels we see Jesus as a gifted healer and a truth-teller. On that mountain the disciples saw something more: His glory as God the Son. “His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became white as light” (Matthew 17:2). Years later Peter would write, “we were eyewitnesses of his majesty” (2 Peter 1:16).

At that point the disciples’ understanding was muddled. They were grasping that Jesus was the Messiah, the Christ, the Anointed One, but they didn’t yet understand what that meant. So Jesus took three and pulled back the curtain. They saw who He was before He came to earth, who He truly was even though it was hidden from almost everyone else, and who He will be at the end of time, when He returns as King of kings and Lord of lords (Revelation 19:16) and “every knee should bow… and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord” (Philippians 2:10–11).

So why just three? The only reason I can point to is God’s sovereign choice. These three were there to see it, record it, and tell the others. Beyond that, I can’t say, and maybe that’s the point. That is God’s business. That is how God works. “The secret things belong to the LORD our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us” (Deuteronomy 29:29).

There are things we don’t know, and we won’t know them until He reveals them. Some we may never fully understand this side of eternity. Even then, the God who is doing them is good, faithful, true, and loving. He knows best, so we can rest in it.

Back Down in the Valley

Then they came down the mountain into a mess: a desperate father, a demon-possessed son, arguing scribes, and nine disciples who couldn’t help.

These were the same men Jesus had sent out with authority only weeks before (Mark 6:7, 12–13). They had seen it work. So why not now?

Some suggest, and I lean this way too, that God’s gifting for healing and miracles comes for specific occasions, needs, and seasons. There is also a danger here. We can become enamored with the gift. We can grow proud of what God does through us and lose sight of the fact that it’s Jesus who works. It’s His Holy Spirit doing the work, and He gets the glory.

I have to admit that I’ve seen God do some amazing things, and it’s easy to slip into complacency. I start thinking it’s my prayer, or that God is using me. Well, yes, He does use us. But God does the work and God gets the glory. We are His children and His servants. Even as His followers, it’s easy to think of ourselves “more highly than [we] ought to think” (Romans 12:3).

Stripped Down to Bare Bones

Matthew and Mark record Jesus’ explanation a little differently. In Matthew, it’s “because of your little faith” (Matthew 17:20). Perhaps their trust wasn’t fully resting on God’s ability. In Mark, Jesus says, “This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer” (Mark 9:29), and some manuscripts add “and fasting.”

That addition is helpful to me. Fasting is a spiritual discipline I’ve experienced, and it strips me down to bare bones. I quickly realize how much I like food, how much I need it, and how early I get hungry. I also don’t particularly like the person I become when I’ve gone a while without eating. Yet in that place, God sustains me. “Man does not live by bread alone” (Deuteronomy 8:3). He is the One who provides.

I think Jesus is pointing His disciples, and us, to that same bare-bones reality. God provides the healing. God provides the deliverance. God answers the prayers of a humbled and obedient heart.

Where have I started trusting in what God has done through me, instead of in God Himself?

Be blessed today, and be a blessing.

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Matthew 16 · Mark 8

Today’s readings cover the same ground through two lenses. Matthew is the Jewish tax collector turned follower of Jesus. Mark is the companion of Peter, who wrote down Peter’s memories.

Following an itinerant rabbi in the first century wasn’t easy. The teacher moved from town to town, depending on whoever would support him and whoever would open a synagogue to him. Much of the teaching happened along the road and around the campfire at night. Over and over the Gospels show Jesus teaching the crowds, answering the Pharisees, and then taking his disciples aside to explain more. Sometimes he took only three of them, Peter, James, and John.

What stands out to me today is how gradually the disciples come to understand. They begin to see pieces of the bigger picture, and it’s easy for them to get ahead of themselves and fill in the rest on their own.

I know that pattern because I’ve lived it. I’ve read the Scriptures all my 43 years. They came alive when I gave my life to Christ and the Holy Spirit came to live in me. But I’ve only been a real student of the Bible for the last five or six years, reading it through each year. What I’ve learned is that understanding comes in layers. There’s a surface truth you can apply right away. Then you come back to the same passage, and the Spirit shows you something new.

The leaven. Jesus warns, “Watch out; beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and the leaven of Herod” (Mark 8:15). These are two extremes: the religious morality police and the open immorality of Herod’s court. Either one, if you lean into it, will pull you away from what the Lord actually wants, which is a growing relationship in which he reveals more of himself and we let that change how we think, act, and speak. Paul calls it being “transformed by the renewal of your mind” (Romans 12:2).

Peter. Peter grasps an eternal truth: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (Matthew 16:16). Jesus answers, “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church” (16:18). As I understand it, the rock is that truth. Petros is a stone, and petra is bedrock. Peter is a stone, and the truth he spoke is the bedrock.

Then Peter turns right around and uses his new standing to correct Jesus: you can’t go to the cross. Jesus’ reply must have crushed him: “Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me. For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man” (16:23).

I’ve done the same thing. A kernel of truth explodes in me, and if I’m not walking in humility, I start running ahead with it and it turns me off the right path.

Mark sets this up with something remarkable. Just before Peter’s confession, Jesus heals a blind man at Bethsaida (Mark 8:22–26). It’s the only healing in the Gospels that happens in stages. After Jesus’ first touch, the man says, “I see people, but they look like trees, walking.” Jesus lays his hands on him again, and then he sees “everything clearly.”

Jesus didn’t need two tries. Everywhere else, one word or one touch was enough. I believe he did this on purpose, and Mark put it where he did on purpose. Only a few verses later, Peter sees who Jesus is, the Christ, but he can’t yet see what that means: the cross. Peter is seeing trees walking. His sight is real but blurry.

The second touch was coming for Peter too. He denied Jesus three times. Then the risen Lord restored him three times on the shore (John 21). At Pentecost, Peter preached the cross he had once rebuked (Acts 2). On a rooftop in Joppa, he learned that the gospel was for the Gentiles too (Acts 10). Years later, the “stone” wrote to the churches that all of us who come to Christ are “like living stones … being built up as a spiritual house” (1 Peter 2:5). Peter kept learning in layers, the same way we do.

That’s how the Lord works with us. We don’t get full sight all at once. He touches, we see a little, and he touches again.

So here’s the key, I think. There will always be more to learn about God and his kingdom. The right posture of the heart is humility toward God, faithfulness to his Word, and expectancy that the Spirit still has more to show us.

Where might you be seeing “trees walking,” treating a partial understanding as the whole picture, and what would it look like to ask the Lord for the second touch?

Have a blessed day, and be a blessing.

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Matthew 15 and Mark 7

Today we see a familiar theme, along with a story that often confused me before I became a student of the Bible. Let’s dive in and see what Jesus has to teach us.

The familiar theme is Jesus confronting the hypocrisy and religiosity of the Jewish leaders. We also see two different long-distance trips in today’s passages. The first is the religious leaders traveling all the way from Jerusalem to chastise Jesus because His followers weren’t keeping their traditions. The text doesn’t tell us, but I wonder whether they came on a fact-finding mission to “check out this new teacher,” or whether they came specifically to get Jesus and His growing following to behave and follow their rules. Either way, what they got was not what they hoped for. Instead, Jesus clearly articulated God’s perspective on man-made religious rules being wedged between God and man.

Jesus came as the ultimate bridge between fallen humanity and God. Even as He taught about the Kingdom of God (also called the Kingdom of Heaven), He was setting the stage for His own sacrifice, the means by which every person could be made right with God. The religious leaders were building a path that ultimately led to a dead end. There might be some self-satisfaction in following all the rules, but the sin debt we all owe could only be satisfied by a sacrifice… a sacrifice Jesus would soon accomplish.

I want to circle back for a moment to the trip these leaders made. The 80 or so miles from Jerusalem to Galilee was not the simple hour-and-a-half drive we might make today. It was a multi-day journey through areas known for bandits and other ne’er-do-wells, and traveling as a group may have been partly for safety. This mattered to them. Their reputation seemed to be at stake. They were likely also worried about stirring up the Romans. In John, which we read yesterday, a populist movement was already forming that wanted to make Jesus, the powerful, miracle-working rabbi, into the military messiah they had been hoping for.

But Jesus was having none of it, neither from the crowds who wanted to make Him an earthly king nor from the religious leaders who wanted Him to conform to their rule book. What He did do was speak clearly to the leaders, then to the people, and then in more detail to His disciples about the Kingdom of God. And then He set out on a multi-day journey of His own.

The story of the Syrophoenician woman always struck me as a little odd. But learning the context, and especially digging into the meaning of the original words, turned odd into beautiful. Here’s what changed and why it matters.

First, notice the similarity, and then the contrast, between the two trips. The religious leaders were likely already irritated at this rogue teacher upstaging them before they ever arrived. They came to correct, and possibly rebuke, Jesus. They left chastised and rebuked themselves. It was NOT a pleasant experience for them. Jesus then promptly left the Jewish region of Galilee and headed north into Gentile territory.

During this period of His ministry, the text frequently mentions Jesus teaching crowds and healing. We don’t see that here. We read about only one encounter: a Gentile woman begging Jesus to deliver her daughter. Jesus traveled into Gentile territory, a place “proper” Jews avoided at all costs, and He engaged with someone who was 1) a Gentile, 2) a woman, and 3) pushy enough to break past the disciples’ protective wall. That sounds like three strikes against her. But Jesus engaged her anyway.

Now comes the part that always made me uncomfortable. He refers to her as a dog. Wow. That seems out of character for the Jesus I know from the rest of the Gospels. The religious leaders wouldn’t have engaged her at all, but where’s the compassionate Jesus? This is where understanding the original language matters. The word Jesus uses refers to a little dog, a household pet, the kind of beloved puppy that lives under the family table. It is NOT the harsh insult it can sound like in English. And don’t forget, Jesus knew exactly what He was going to do. It is very likely that this woman was THE reason Jesus marched His disciples into foreign territory so far from home. This exchange, and the deliverance He gave, had to be critically important, or the Holy Spirit wouldn’t have prompted both Matthew and Mark to record it.

When I read this story and noticed that Jesus promptly left the area, I couldn’t help but think of the demoniac on the other side of the Sea of Galilee. Jesus delivered that man and then promptly turned around and headed back to Jewish territory. All the Old Testament prophecies pointed to a Jewish Messiah who would set His people free. In a few places we see that promise expanded to the Gentiles, but the primary audience was the Jews. And that’s exactly what Jesus did. His initial outreach was in Israel, but He also “seeded” His message into the lives of Gentiles, in at least these two places, through deliverance and healing. I can just picture this woman telling her friends about her encounter with Jesus as she points to her now healthy, whole daughter.

Today I am struck by how good the LORD is to reach out to us, no matter how far we might stray. He walks near enough to respond the moment we decide to seek Him. After the resurrection, we’ll see this intimacy with God go to a whole new level, as the Father places His Holy Spirit within each person who repents and surrenders their life to Him. But even before that, He is near… He pursues… He loves… and He gives us every opportunity to turn and become His child. That is a beautiful truth to rest in.

Where in your life might God be making a long trip just to meet you?

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Reading: John 6

The feeding of the 5,000, plus women and children, is one of the few events recorded in all four Gospels. Yesterday we read about it in the Synoptics. Today John tells the same story and adds a few details of his own. He mentions the boy who brought what he had: “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what are they for so many?” (John 6:9). He also tells us the crowd was so stirred that Jesus had to slip away because “they were about to come and take him by force to make him king” (John 6:15).

Where John really slows down, though, is the day after.

The Crowd Comes Back Hungry

The people Jesus fed look around for Him the next morning. When they realize He has crossed the lake, they follow, and many more from the surrounding area probably join them. They don’t come to worship. They come asking for more: another sign, another miracle, another meal. “Then what sign do you do, that we may see and believe you?” (John 6:30).

Jesus sees right through it:

“Truly, truly, I say to you, you are seeking me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you.” (John 6:26–27)

This was the point that stayed with me today. The crowd was focused on the temporary, on what lasts only a moment. It might be bread. It might be deliverance from Roman occupation. Either way, it was temporary. Jesus wanted them to look past it to what is eternal, to what truly matters most.

“I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.” (John 6:35)

When He says, “the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh” (John 6:51), He is pointing ahead to the cross. We’ll see that come into focus in His final week, when He takes the Passover meal and turns it into what we know as the Lord’s Supper. For today, though, the issue is the clash between two prayers: feed me now and feed me for eternity.

God’s Timing

I read John 6 first thing this morning. Since it’s Sunday, I didn’t have time to write before church. Looking back, I think that was God’s timing.

After the service a good friend came up to me. Over the last few years I’ve watched his faith grow tremendously. He has asked hard questions and worked through them, and he has held on through difficult seasons.

Today I could see something heavy on him. When it was just the two of us, he told me his wife has just received a very serious diagnosis.

That news has shaken him to his core. I hurt with him. When I think about losing my wife, or one of our children, or someone close to us, I feel the grief starting already.

And yet on this side there is always hope. In His day Jesus did provide the temporary: the bread, the fish, the healing. Even more, He provides the eternal. My friend and his wife know Jesus. Will this be a trial? Yes. Will God heal her on this side? I hope and pray that she gets more time. But even if the Lord chooses not to heal her here, there is an eternity, and it is glorious, waiting beyond the door we call death, in the larger life.

Into the Water

Something else came to me as I prayed for my friend in the hour and a half after I got home.

Not long ago I watched his wife step into the waters of baptism. It wasn’t planned. The Holy Spirit simply moved her, and she came forward just as she was and said yes to Jesus all over again.

“We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.” (Romans 6:4)

She went down into the water, into death to self and burial with Christ, and came up joined to His resurrection, shouting hallelujah. It was a glorious thing to see how excited she was.

“But If Not”

When that picture came back to me this afternoon, I immediately thought of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. Nebuchadnezzar ordered them to bow to his golden statue. They refused and were sentenced to the fiery furnace. Their answer has stayed with me for years:

“Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up.” (Daniel 3:17–18)

That is where my friend and his wife stand. She went under the water and came up again, and her life is now “hidden with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:3). Whatever comes her way, whether temptation, hardship, or, as now, a very serious illness, she will love and serve Jesus with everything in her for as long as she has.

My friend will hold on to Jesus too. He will put his trust in Him, and he’ll probably cry in Jesus’ arms more than once. In the end, though, the eternal far outshines the temporary, and that includes this earthly life itself.

“For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” (2 Corinthians 4:18)

Invited Into the Eternal

The invitation is open to all of us. We can put our faith and trust in Jesus Christ and His finished work on the cross. We can be born again, as Jesus describes in John 3. “Because I live, you also will live” (John 14:19). The eternal is what we were made for.

For reflection: What “bread that perishes” have you been asking God for lately? What would it look like this week to seek Him for the bread that endures?

Please also join me in praying for my friend and his wife.

Be blessed, my friends, and have a blessed day.

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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Matthew 14, Mark 6, Luke 9

Reading today’s Gospel passages, I felt almost tired. The action is relentless, and the emotional weight comes early. John the Baptist, guilty of nothing but speaking truth to power, loses his life to a scheme hatched by Herodias and carried out through her daughter (Mark 6:17–29).

When Jesus hears the news, Matthew tells us he withdrew by boat to a desolate place by himself (Matthew 14:13). John wasn’t only his cousin. He was the forerunner who prepared the ground for Jesus’ ministry. I’m sure Jesus went to grieve and to be alone with the Father. But he didn’t get that, at least not at first. The crowds saw where he was going and followed him on foot. And when Jesus saw them, he had compassion on them (Matthew 14:14). Grieving, tired, and interrupted, he served anyway. That’s the servant leadership he still calls us to, and 2,000 years later it’s still rare.

The disciples were grieving too

I want to look at the disciples for a moment, because they had also heard the news. John was part of their story. At least a couple of them had followed John before they followed Jesus (John 1:35–40). John and Jesus preached the same message: repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand. The handoff from John to Jesus was one of preparation and arrival, but I don’t think that was clear to them yet. Most still pictured a Messiah who would throw off the yoke of Rome. They didn’t yet see that the yoke Jesus came to break was sin, and the debt we owe for our failure to obey God, or that Jesus himself would take the death sentence in our place. What they did know was that John was dead.

And here’s something I hadn’t noticed before. This all happens right after the disciples return from the mission Jesus had sent them on, with authority to proclaim the kingdom and to heal (Mark 6:7–13, 30; Luke 9:1–10). They had seen God’s power at work through them. It must have been exhilarating. They were also exhausted. Jesus had even said, “Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while” (Mark 6:31). Then the crowd showed up.

“You give them something to eat”

The teaching lasted all day. The people were hungry and had a long way home. When the disciples suggested sending them away, Jesus answered, “You give them something to eat” (Mark 6:37). They were flustered. Where would they find food, even if they had the money?

The answer was a boy’s lunch of five loaves and two fish (John 6:9). It fed 5,000 men, and with women and children, the crowd could easily have been 15,000. This is one of the few miracles recorded in all four Gospels.

Notice what the disciples’ responsibility turned out to be. They didn’t have to produce the food. They had to take what Jesus gave them and put it into the hands of the people. That’s servant leadership too. Fresh off a successful mission, they were still shocked by the scale of what Jesus asked. And he showed them that no need is too big for the power of God.

Headwinds on the lake

Then comes one of my favorite stories in the Bible. Jesus makes the disciples get into the boat and go ahead of him across the lake, while he finally goes up the mountain alone to pray (Matthew 14:22–23).

I’ve been to Israel and stood on Mount Arbel, on the western shore of the Sea of Galilee. From the top you can see the whole lake. Just below it, a valley pass opens toward the Mediterranean, and the wind can funnel through it and whip up that part of the water. It was easy for me to picture Jesus on a mountain on a breezy, moonlit night, looking down and seeing the disciples straining at the oars against the wind (Mark 6:48).

Jesus knew what was coming. He knew they’d be rowing into headwinds, and that in their own strength they wouldn’t make it. He sent them anyway. Then, in the fourth watch of the night, he came to them, walking on the sea.

They thought he was a ghost. Maybe that fear was tied to hearing that John had just been killed. They were terrified, and they were spent. They’d come back from a big mission, wanted rest, ministered all day to thousands, watched Jesus feed them, and were now paddling through the night and getting nowhere. And then someone was walking on the water. Jesus said, “Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid” (Matthew 14:27).

Peter, and me

Then Peter, only in Matthew’s account, asks Jesus to call him out onto the water. Jesus says, “Come.” As long as Peter keeps his eyes on Jesus, he walks on the water too. But when he sees the wind, he becomes afraid, begins to sink, and cries out, “Lord, save me” (Matthew 14:28–30). Jesus immediately reaches out and catches him.

Oh my goodness, do I recognize this in my own life. When trials and challenges come, or when too many things crowd in and I look at the things instead of the person of Jesus, that’s when I sink. That’s when my emotions run amok. That’s when I’m less loving to my wife, less thoughtful toward my children, and less kind to the people I meet.

But when I keep my eyes on Jesus, follow what he did and what he said, and let the Holy Spirit help me not just with the task but with my focus, the water isn’t what drowns me. That’s when I’m walking above the waves. That’s when I’m rowing into the wind and actually making headway. That’s when I’m living the servant life Jesus called me to.

And before we know it, the Lord gives us the opportunity to lead others into a relationship with him, into discipleship, and into faithful action of their own. Not because we’re strong rowers, but because we keep our eyes on Jesus, follow him, and let our lives be used as his servants.

A question to carry with you today: What wind or wave has your attention right now, and what would it look like to lift your eyes back to Jesus in the middle of it?

Have a blessed day.

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Today’s reading is Mark 4 and 5. First, a quick review of who wrote the four Gospels. Matthew and John were two of Jesus’ disciples. Matthew was a Jewish tax collector until he met Jesus and his life was turned upside down. John was probably the youngest disciple and was the brother of James. Luke was a physician turned historian, a Gentile convert, and a travel companion of Paul. Mark was most likely John Mark, a disciple of Peter. When I read Mark, I picture an older, wiser Peter preaching to the crowds while Mark takes notes, and then later, around a campfire, Peter telling the same stories from a more personal place.

Each Gospel shows Jesus’ life, ministry, message, and mission from a slightly different angle. For years after the resurrection, the disciples went about proclaiming the good news. Some of it may have been written down early, but the Gospels as we know them came together roughly 30 to 60 years after the resurrection, with John most likely last, written late in his life in Ephesus. I mention this because several stories appear in more than one Gospel, like the parable of the four soils, and it’s right to give extra weight to what is repeated.

I don’t have time for all the parables today, so I want to focus on a boat trip.

The storm

After a long, hard day of teaching, Jesus is the one who said, “Let us go across to the other side” (Mark 4:35). They set out across the Sea of Galilee in the evening. The first several times I read this, I wondered how anyone could sleep through that kind of rocking. But Jesus was fully God and fully human. He was tired, and he fell asleep on a cushion in the stern.

I’ve been to Israel, and while we were there a storm swept across that lake in a hurry. What amazed me was how quickly it left again. So I can picture this. But for the disciples it was nighttime, water was filling the boat, and it was about to sink. I’m sure they were bailing and rowing and getting nowhere. And Jesus was asleep.

They wake him with, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” (4:38). These men had already watched him do miracle after miracle. Mature faith takes time.

Jesus knew what he was doing. All creation was made through him, and when he speaks to the wind, it obeys. He rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” and there was a great calm (4:39).

This showed his power, but I think it showed something more: his compassion is real, and his compassion doesn’t keep us from every storm. Go back and ask who said, “Let’s get in the boat.” It was Jesus. He led them into the boat with a storm ahead. And the moment they turned to him, they received an immediate answer.

The other side

They left from the Jewish side of the lake and landed on the Gentile side, in the region of the Decapolis. On the Jewish side, Jesus often told people to keep his miracles quiet. He didn’t go to the Gentile side often, but when he did, it was for specific, God-ordained ministry.

This time it was a man possessed by many demons. When Jesus asked the name, the answer was “Legion, for we are many” (5:9). When the demons were sent into the herd of about 2,000 pigs, the pigs rushed down the steep bank and drowned. I don’t know whether that number says anything about how many demons there were, and Scripture doesn’t say.

What caught my attention this time was the contrast. The storm stopped at one word. Here, Mark tells us Jesus “had been saying” to the spirit, “Come out” (5:8), and there’s an exchange before the demons leave. I hold this loosely, but it makes me wonder whether active resistance to the kingdom of God calls for a different kind of perseverance from us than crying out to Jesus in a trial does. Jesus’ authority was never in question, but the encounter wasn’t a one-word moment.

Encounters with the evil one will come. A large part of Jesus’ ministry was rebuking and casting out demons. He rebuked the Pharisees too, but they didn’t recognize their need and didn’t want deliverance. This man did. When he saw Jesus from a distance, he ran to him and fell on his knees (5:6). Whatever had a hold on him, part of him wanted to be free of it, and it took an encounter with Jesus for that to happen.

Sent instead of kept

When the man begged to go with Jesus, Jesus said no. Instead he told him, “Go home to your friends and tell them how much the Lord has done for you” (5:19). I can see a couple of reasons. On the Jewish side, Jesus knew the resistance building against him would lead to the cross, so he kept things quiet there. That resistance wasn’t present on the Gentile side yet, so he sent this man out as a witness. And though the first disciples all came from Jewish heritage, the kingdom message was for all people. When persecution came, it went out to the whole world, and this man was an early sign of that.

In two chapters, Jesus shows his power over the forces of nature, his power over the forces of the evil one, and his compassion for his frightened disciples and for one tormented man in the Decapolis.

Question for today: Is there a storm in your life right now that you got into by following Jesus, and have you turned to him in it, or are you still bailing and rowing on your own?

Have a blessed day.

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Jesus’ ministry has reached the point where He is teaching His disciples in preparation for their going out in ministry. He has performed many miracles, meeting people in the middle of their need, and many have now leaned in to hear His message and follow Him as a gifted teacher. Some are clearly beginning to think of Him as the Messiah prophesied in the Old Testament. That expectation was especially strong at this point in Israel’s history. The Roman occupation had the people longing for someone who would lead them to deliverance.

So what does Jesus do? He teaches them to pray.

One of the disciples watches Jesus pray and then asks, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples” (Luke 11:1, ESV). Jesus’ example is short. It is concise. And it touches the themes all of us deal with every day. What it doesn’t do is call down fire from heaven to drive out the Romans. (Just a chapter earlier, James and John wanted to call down fire on a Samaritan village, and Jesus rebuked them; Luke 9:54–55.) Jesus teaches us to pray in the middle of life, wherever we might be.

Starting From Humility

There is a foundation in the Lord’s Prayer that is absolutely essential: we come to this conversation with our heavenly Father from a place of humility. God is holy. He is uniquely set apart from all of creation. Yet He loves us, desires a relationship with us, and makes Himself present in a real way through prayer.

A “God is my buddy” attitude can easily miss the reality of a holy God stooping to talk with us. He does desire fellowship with us, and He will draw close to us. But pride, and even complacency, can create a distance that is our own making. As James writes, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” and “Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you” (James 4:6, 8).

The prayer opens, “Father, hallowed be your name” (Luke 11:2); in Matthew’s version, “Our Father in heaven” (Matthew 6:9). He is above all, completely set apart. His name is holy. The tension between His holiness and purity and our lack of it keeps us properly humble as we come before our loving Creator. And from that place, God draws us close.

“Your Kingdom Come”

Luke records “Your kingdom come” (11:2), and Matthew adds, “your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10). God’s purpose, the establishment and advancement of His kingdom on the earth through the lives of His children, should be ever before us. He wants us to pray for it, and then to live it.

“Give Us Each Day Our Daily Bread”

I can’t read this line without thinking of the children of Israel wandering in the desert for forty years, provided manna from heaven every single day (Exodus 16:4). Gratitude includes recognizing that the gift is only given because there is a Giver. Asking God to provide is never wrong. One of His names in the Old Testament is Jehovah Jireh, “The LORD will provide” (Genesis 22:14).

“Forgive Us Our Sins”

“And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone who is indebted to us” (Luke 11:4). This line highlights two of our greatest needs: to be forgiven, and to release through forgiveness those who sin against us.

It also circles back to the importance of humility. We will struggle to forgive if we hold too tightly to our hurt, our reputation, what people say, or what people do. Forgiveness doesn’t condone the evil done against us. It means we release our right to hold onto it, and we hand it to the Lord.

“Lead Us Not Into Temptation”

The English wording here can be a little confusing. Scripture is clear that God doesn’t tempt anyone to sin (James 1:13). The essence is this: the world is full of temptations to sin and to drift away from God and His best. We have been given free moral agency, the ability to choose. And in every situation, there is at least one path that leads toward God and away from sin. Paul says it this way: “with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it” (1 Corinthians 10:13).

Trials, troubles, and challenges will come. But we have a loving Father who will help us through them and away from sin. We just have to ask, and then follow.

The Gift That Makes Prayer Come Alive

Luke ends the prayer there, but he doesn’t end Jesus’ teaching on prayer. I think we often miss that Jesus’ next words describe an essential element in the power of our prayer. After teaching His disciples to ask, seek, and knock (11:9), He says:

“If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” (11:13)

At this point, the Holy Spirit, the third person of the triune God, had not yet been poured out to live in believers. That came after Jesus’ resurrection, on the day of Pentecost, which Luke records in Acts 2, and it continues today as people surrender their lives to Him.

Jesus points out that the Holy Spirit is God’s gift to His children when they ask. The Holy Spirit is God, and He comes to dwell in us the moment we are saved. There is so much to unpack about God living within us, but it’s enough to say this: our intimacy with the Father grows so much richer as we allow the Holy Spirit to guide us, pray through us (Romans 8:26), and help us understand God and His ways.

Religion That Keeps People Out

The final verses of the chapter reveal the growing conflict between Jesus and the religious leaders. A Pharisee invites Jesus to dine with him (11:37), though it seems the invitation may have been more about challenging Jesus than understanding Him. Whatever the motive, Jesus rebukes them for setting up man-made hurdles that made it hard for people to approach God: “you load people with burdens hard to bear” (11:46), and “You did not enter yourselves, and you hindered those who were entering” (11:52).

God as a loving Father was not what the religious leaders promoted. They had built a religious system that made them feel good about themselves, yet left them, and anyone who followed them, outside of grace. Their prayers were rote, offered from a position of pride and supposed privilege. The humility the Lord’s Prayer calls for was far from them.

Simple and Refreshing

The simplicity of Jesus’ prayer is truly refreshing. I’m sure that’s part of what drew so many people to Him. He gave them a picture of a God who is both holy and loving. Through His life and His teaching, He showed that God wants to draw near to His children. All we have to do is ask, from a place of humble faith.

A question to sit with: Which line of this simple prayer have you been rushing past lately, and what might change if you prayed it slowly and humbly today?

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In today’s readings I was struck by the broad view of Jesus’ ministry. He heals the blind, the mute, the paralyzed, lepers, and even a woman who had suffered with bleeding for twelve years. He delivers people from demons, He raises the dead, He forgives sin, and He preaches good news to the poor. Jesus has neither a narrow band of giftedness nor a target audience to constrain Him. His only limits seem to be time and the means of travel in His day.

The overarching theme for me today is how Jesus reaches out to everyone. In Jesus, the outcast becomes the accepted, and those who respond become adopted into God’s family. The apostle Paul will later pick up this theme of adoption and explain it to a growing Gentile audience in terms they would understand (Romans 8:15; Galatians 4:4–7; Ephesians 1:5). In Roman culture, adoption was a deliberate, legal choice that gave the adopted child a full new identity, name, and inheritance in the family.

We’ve touched on this before, but all people are created in the image of God. We are given the immense dignity of being real agents in this world, with a will and the ability to make free choices. The first family chose to exercise that will contrary to God’s explicit instruction, and sin entered the world. But God had a plan, even from before the beginning, to rescue humanity after the fall. The promised seed of Genesis 3:15 was Jesus. In today’s readings we see Jesus displaying power that belongs to God alone. The miracles are one proof that He was the promised Messiah and Savior. His message, first proclaimed in the synagogues throughout the cities and villages, was the good news of God’s kingdom come to earth (Matthew 9:35).

You would think this message would be joyfully received by all, but we already see early signs of conflict. Jesus operated outside the established religious hierarchy. He showed no interest in military revolt, even healing the servant of a Roman centurion. And He didn’t favor the already-favored. All of this began to generate opposition. As His ministry grows and the time of His ultimate sacrifice draws near, we will see Jesus directly confront those who made it hard for people to come to Him. But today we see Him reaching multitudes with great compassion, great love, and powerful acts of healing and mercy.

He reaches the outcast. Matthew, a tax collector, and Matthew’s friends, likely men like him, looked down on for siding with the Roman occupiers (Matthew 9:9–13). The woman with the issue of blood, who for twelve years had been considered unclean, cut off from public worship and from the community of God’s people (Matthew 9:20–22). The Roman centurion, who cared enough for his servant to seek out a Jewish rabbi and ask for healing. He belonged to a people hated by the majority, yet he came seeking help from the One he believed God had empowered to heal (Luke 7:1–10).

In our final story we read about a “sinful” woman coming to Jesus (Luke 7:36–50). Many scholars think this means she was a prostitute, someone who sold her body to survive. I prefer the term sinful woman, because every one of us is either a sinful woman or a sinful man in need of the forgiveness and cleansing that only God, only Jesus, can provide. And that is exactly what He gives her. Jesus accepts her, and He accepts her worship. He even points it out to Simon, the Pharisee who looks down his nose at her. Here Jesus makes a critical comparison, one worthy of deep prayer and reflection, because it is something every person will ultimately face:

What will you do with Jesus?

There is a right answer. When we know it, we move from outcast to accepted, from accepted to forgiven, and from forgiven to adopted. That is our blessed hope and our greatest joy.

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