Jon Bloom is the Executive Director of Desiring God.

Missionary to India, William Carey, once exhorted a Baptist gathering in England by saying, “Expect great things from God; attempt great things for God.” I love that quote.

But we must heed the Bible’s warning through Simon the Magician: if we attempt great things so that others will see us as great, we are in grave spiritual peril.

After Stephen had been brutally stoned to death, intense persecution broke out against the Christians in Jerusalem. Many were driven off to the towns and villages of Judea and Samaria.

Philip, Stephen’s co-servant to the Hellenistic widows, landed in a Samaritan town and preached and performed signs and wonders there. Large numbers of Samaritans professed faith and were baptized. And Simon was one of them.

Simon was a local celebrity, a magician of sorts. He had mesmerized the locals with his arts. And they had given him the title The Great Power of God. And he loved it. He basked in his reputation and fed off the admiration and respect he received.

But when Philip arrived, the game changed. Simon watched with covetous awe as the real, great power of God flowed through Philip; a power that far out-classed him.  

Then Peter and John showed up from Jerusalem. And when they prayed, people were filled with the Holy Spirit. This drew even more crowds. Everyone was talking about them. Everyone was mesmerized by them (or so it seemed to Simon).

No one was mesmerized by Simon anymore. He was a diminishing star. And like many who have once experienced the euphoric drug of other people’s adoration, he wanted that rush again.

If he could somehow get this Jesus power, then once again he could be great. Once again people would hold him in awe. He was willing to pay a high price for that drug.

So at a discreet moment, he approached Peter and John with a proposition. If they would let him in on the secret they possessed, if they would share their power with him, a small fortune in silver would be theirs and no one would ever know.

In a split second Simon knew he had miscalculated. Peter’s eyes seemed to burn right into his heart. And then Peter’s words seemed to slice him open:

May your silver perish with you, because you thought you could obtain the gift of God with money! You have neither part nor lot in this matter, for your heart is not right before God. Repent, therefore, of this wickedness of yours, and pray to the Lord that, if possible, the intent of your heart may be forgiven you. For I see that you are in the gall of bitterness and in the bond of iniquity. (Acts 8:20-23)

Simon cringed and said meekly, “Pray for me to the Lord, that nothing of what you have said will come upon me.”

Peter’s words to Simon might have sounded harsh. But they were full of mercy. The love of self-glory is an extremely dangerous cancer of the soul and is spiritually fatal if not addressed. This cancer requires a straightforward, serious diagnosis. Both Peter and John had benefited from the Great Physician’s graciously severe rebukes. Maybe Simon would repent and be delivered.

The Bible does not tell us if he did. Early church literature suggests that Simon later became a heretic, which, if true, means he tragically ignored Peter’s warning.

But God does not want us to ignore the warning. This account is in the Bible so that we will remember that God’s power is not a commodity to be traded. It’s not a means for us to pursue our own greatness or wealth.

We can all relate to Simon. We are all are tempted to pursue our own glory, even in the work of the kingdom. When we recognize that familiar craving we need to deal severely with it. We must confess it (often to others, not just God), repent, and resist. Because, if left alone, it can develop into a spiritual cancer that can blind us to real glory, and may ultimately kill us.

So, let us expect great things from God and attempt great things for God. But let us take Peter’s advice and do so “by the strength that God supplies—in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 4:11).

The love of our own glory is the greatest competitor with God in our hearts. And sometimes we can cloak this idol in a pious disguise. In Matthew 21, Jesus unmasked such an idol with a single question.

It was the final week before Jesus’ day of judgment—the day he would stand before his Father’s bar of justice bearing the sins of all who ever had or would believe in him and in their place be crushed by the Father’s wrath.  

He no longer avoided the treacherous Jewish political and religious leaders. He openly confronted their errors and duplicity, pouring fuel on the fire of their fear and hatred of him.

As the Jewish leaders saw it, Jesus was out of control. He had been a growing problem for a couple of years. But Sunday, he had wreaked havoc in the temple, driving out the sacrifice merchants as if he owned the place. And this after he rode into Jerusalem like a hero to the wild cheers of thousands—many of whom proclaimed him the Messiah. And he did not refute them!

The leaders rejected Jesus as the Christ. After all, he was from God-forsaken Galilee. And he was a blasphemer and a chronic Sabbath-breaker—yet he called them hypocrites!

Now he had become a full-blown crisis. If they didn’t take decisive action soon, the Romans would get involved.

The problem was the crowd. They had to find a way to win the people to their side.

After some deliberation, they conceived a question that would surely hang Jesus on the horns of a dilemma. Either answer would incriminate him, divide the crowd, and give them cause to arrest him.

On Monday morning, as Jesus was teaching in the temple, the appointed delegation made their way to him through the crowd. The spokesman loudly asked, “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?”

Jesus, sitting, leaned back a bit and squinted up at them. The tension was thick.

Then he answered, “I also will ask you one question, and if you tell me the answer, then I also will tell you by what authority I do these things. The baptism of John, where did it come from? From heaven or from man?”

This was a stunning counter. They faltered. The crowd began to murmur. Their hesitation was humiliating.

They huddled for a quick conference. “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will say to us, ‘Why then did you not believe him?’ But if we say, ‘From man,’ we are afraid of the crowd, for they all hold that John was a prophet.” How had Jesus managed to flip the dilemma horns around on them?

They decided not to grab either horn. “We do not know.” It was a politically expedient lie.

Restrained anger flashed in Jesus’ eyes. “Neither will I tell you by what authority I do these things.”

*               *               *

The question the Jewish leaders asked, taken by itself, was not wrong. They were supposed to guard God’s truth and God’s people. That’s why Jesus was willing to answer it. But his prerequisite question revealed that their apparent truth-guarding was a sham.

John the Baptist’s love for God’s glory and truth had cost him his head. Jesus’ love for God’s glory and truth would get him crushed by God’s wrath. Jesus’ question was designed to reveal whether these leaders loved God’s glory and truth more than public approval. If they answered him straight, he would give them a straight answer to their question.

But they were “afraid of the crowd.” In other words, they loved their positions and reputations more than they loved the truth—more than they loved God. So they “exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature (themselves) rather than the creator” (Romans 1:25).

We must remember that we do the same thing every time we distort or deny the truth for the sake of our own reputations. Self-glory is revealed to be an idol in our heart when the Lord presents us with an opportunity to glorify him by speaking the truth about our convictions or our sins, yet we are unwilling to do it for fear of what someone else will think of us.

We have all done this. Thank God for the cross! “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9). Let’s resolve to love God’s glory more than our own by being rigorously truthful in our professions and confessions.

Rachel Barkey is a 37 year-old wife and mother of two who is dying of cancer. She only has weeks to live.

On March 4, she addressed 600 women and in 55 minutes delivered one of the most God-centered, gospel-soaked, honest, moving, and beautiful messages I have heard. I don’t know that Rachel has read John’s article, Don’t Waste Your Cancer, but she is a beautiful example of every point John made.

Check out Rachel’s website where you can watch or download the video and audio. You will not regret the 55 minutes. Very little is more important than the things she says.

It is humbling to remember that as Christians we are still vulnerable to Satan’s deception. One moment we can speak glorious truth and the next moment destructive, satanic words. We must be on our guard, something Peter learned the hard way (Matthew 16:13-27).

Why Jesus had led his disciples up to Caesarea Philippi, they weren’t sure. At the foot of Mount Hermon in the far north of Palestine, the population was mostly pagan. Legend told that the Greek god, Pan, had been born in a nearby cave housing a great spring of water. Temples and shrines were built into the cliffs. Philip the Tetrarch made the city his capital, which he named in honor of Tiberius Caesar—and himself.

But for Jesus, Caesarea Philippi was likely a refuge from the pressing crowds and controversy he generated among the Jews, a peaceful retreat where he could ask his disciples a defining question.

“Who do people say that the Son of Man is?”

“John the Baptist,” answered one. There were a few muted laughs because John had only died a few months ago. But the strange rumor made Philip’s half brother, Antipas, tremble.

Another said, “Some say Elijah.” This made more sense, since the prophet, Malachi, had said Elijah would come (Malachi 4:5). But in that sense, Elijah had died a few months ago.

“Or one of the other prophets, like Jeremiah,” said a third.

Jesus seemed to be lost in thought for a few minutes. Then he looked around the group and asked, “But who do you say that I am?”

This question pierced right to their deepest hope. It was a hope their ancestors had nurtured for centuries, one that had been dashed many times. It was a hope so dear that, even after all of Jesus’ signs, most were hesitant to actually say it.

But not Peter. For right or wrong, he was bolder than the rest. “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God,” he answered with characteristic passion. The words echoed off the rocky walls. Every man felt his diaphragm tighten. This was the moment of truth. Their hopes rested on Jesus’ response.

“Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven.”

Awe permeated this holy moment. Before this Jesus had all but proclaimed himself the Messiah. But now the line had been officially crossed. Peter had said what they all desperately hoped was true. And Jesus had affirmed it.

And in that moment, Peter earned his name. From then on he was a memorial stone of the mammoth, Mount Hermon-like truth of Jesus’ person and his mission—the indestructible truth on which the church would be built.

But then irony struck. The rock of truth quickly became a stumbling block.

Having declared himself the Messiah to his disciples, Jesus immediately began explaining to them that his mission required his capture, death, and resurrection. This did not land on them as good news. How in the world could the messianic kingdom be established if the Messiah dies?

This really disturbed Peter. It wasn’t like Jesus to sound so resigned to being overcome by evil. There was no way that God would allow his Son to be killed and leave all the prophecies unfulfilled. Hadn’t they experienced God’s omnipotent power? And if it was a matter of protection, well, Jesus needed to know that no one would lay a hand on him except over Peter’s dead body!

So at the next opportunity, bold Peter took Jesus aside and said, “Far be it from you, Lord! This shall never happen to you.”

Jesus cut him off with intense authority: “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.”

Peter stepped back, confused. This was the last thing he expected to hear. Satan? He was being used by Satan? And he thought he was trying to help.

Peter might have recalled this moment later in life when he wrote this exhortation:

Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him... (1 Peter 5:8-9)

As Christians who have received the Holy Spirit, we still must be on our guard. Satan is very subtle. And he is very good at deceiving us where our understanding is limited or partial. If we are not careful, we can think we are advancing God’s kingdom when we are really opposing it.

So let us be “quick to hear, slow to speak” (James 1:19) and clothed with humility, because, as Peter wrote, “God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble” (1 Peter 5:5).

*               *               *

Suggested Resource

“The Fall of Satan and the Victory of Christ”
A helpful biblical survey of Satan’s origin and activity and a glorious reminder of Christ’s sovereignty and final victory over Satan.

Believing what we cannot see is hard. All of us are skeptics to some degree, and some more than others. But there is often more going on inside a skeptic than meets the eye. And Jesus knows how to reach them. That’s one reason I love Thomas’s story.

Jesus’ death had been difficult and confusing for everyone. Having been welcomed into Jerusalem like a king, he was dead before the week was over. And when the shepherd was struck, the sheep scattered. But they regathered in a secret hideout in Jerusalem.

On Sunday things took a weird twist. It began with Mary Magdalene insisting that she had seen Jesus alive in the morning. True, Jesus’ body disappearing was admittedly strange. But still, everyone knew Jesus had really died. No one could believe Mary’s claim except maybe John.

Then later in the day Peter announced that he also had seen Jesus alive. This troubled Thomas. But he figured he could cut Peter some slack. After denying Jesus publicly, no one could blame Peter for wishing everything was okay. He just needed time.

But then Cleopas burst into the house Sunday night claiming that he had walked—walked!—with Jesus to Emmaus that afternoon. What Thomas found particularly hard to believe was that Cleopas and his friend hadn’t recognized Jesus the entire time until dinner when—poof!—he just disappeared.

Well, this excited everyone else, but Thomas only felt agitated. He desperately missed Jesus too, but he wasn’t going to let grief make him believe bizarre things. Jesus was dead.

Yet he didn’t feel like dousing everyone’s unreal hope with a wet blanket of reality. They weren’t ready to hear it anyway. Thomas decided he needed to clear his head with a walk. By himself.

So after whispering a discreet excuse to Nathaniel, he managed to slip outside without much notice. After being very careful not to betray the hideout, he started down an empty street.

The quiet was refreshing. But the walk wasn’t as helpful as he had hoped. The Jesus sightings were disturbing, especially because the witnesses were credible.

Then a rush of memories from the past three years flowed through Thomas’s mind. So many things he had seen would have been unbelievable if he hadn’t seen them. Most haunting now was Lazarus. And Jesus had seemed to know that he was going to die in Jerusalem.

Suddenly Thomas realized he was arguing with himself. His agitation really wasn’t over his friends’ failure to face the facts. The facts, in fact, were now ambiguous. He was agitated because part of him actually believed Jesus was alive. And this frustrated the skeptic in him who took pride in being a man of common sense. A resurrection just seemed too incredible to be true.

The more he thought, the less sure he became. No one knew where Jesus’ body was. Those who claimed to have seen him were people he trusted. It would make sense of certain prophesies. Could it be?

Show me the body! his skeptic side shouted. At least Lazarus could be seen and touched in Bethany by any doubter. So if Jesus really was alive, why this hide-and-seek game? Wouldn’t he just show himself to them all?

He’d believe Jesus was alive when he saw him alive.

When Thomas returned to the house four of his friends pounced on him, “We have seen the Lord, Thomas! It’s all true! He was just with us! Where were you?”

Thomas instantly felt a surge of shock, unbelief, isolation, regret for having left, and self-pity over feeling left out.

Feeling angry he blurted out with more conviction than he felt, “Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe.”

Most of his friends were dismayed. But Peter just watched him, smiling slightly.

The following eight days were long and lonely for Thomas. His friends were gracious. No one debated him. It was, in fact, their calm confidence in Jesus’ resurrection that aggravated Thomas’s growing conviction that he was wrong. Outside he tried to maintain a facade of resolute intellectual skepticism, but inside he was wrestling and melting and wanting more than anything to see Jesus too.

And then it happened. Thomas was staring at the floor, pondering again the possibility that his unbelief had disqualified him. Had Jesus rejected him? If so, he knew he deserved it. Then someone gasped. He looked up and his heart leaped into his throat! Jesus was standing across the room looking back at him. “Peace be with you.”

Thomas could hardly breathe. Jesus spoke to him, “Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.”

All objections and resistance in Thomas evaporated. And in tears of repentance, relief, and worship Thomas dropped on his knees before Jesus and exclaimed, “My Lord and my God.”

Be patient and gracious with the skeptics in your life. We shouldn’t assume their outward confidence accurately reflects their inward condition. Keep praying for them and share what seems helpful. Keep confidently and humbly following Jesus. And trust his timing. He knows best how and when to reveal himself to them.

God gave very detailed instructions to Moses regarding the construction of the tabernacle and the keeping of the law. So isn’t it interesting that God didn’t tell Moses how to perform his role as judge in Israel?

Instead he allowed Moses to struggle with an overbearing workload for awhile and then sent Jethro, Moses’ father-in-law and priest of Midian (a pagan priest?), to give him counsel. In Exodus 18, Jethro observes Moses’ administrative approach to judgment and then gives sage advice on delegation. The outcome was a much more effective and efficient way of serving the people.

Why didn’t God just tell Moses that from the beginning? Why Jethro? I think one very important reason is that God speaks with clarity and preciseness everything that is required to make his people holy throughout the generations—every promise to be trusted and every commandment to be obeyed. But outside of that, he leaves much to our figuring out. And when he guides, it’s usually indirectly.

The vast majority of our methods or systems are not to be considered sacred. God does not intend for every church, denomination, or organization to structure by thousands, hundreds, fifties, and tens, which is what we would do if we thought this was God’s official way of organizing people.

I love the Bible. God is so wise. He is as intentional in what he does not say, as he is in what he does say.

So in our prayers for strategic and administrative wisdom, we should expect God to send us Jethros and not some special revelation.

Do you, like me, have family members who do not believe in Jesus? If so, we are in good company. So did Jesus. And I think this is meant to give us hope. 

According to the Apostle John, “not even his brothers believed in him” (John 7:5). That’s incredible. Those who had lived with Jesus for 30 years really did not know him. Not one of Jesus’ brothers is mentioned as a disciple during his pre-crucifixion ministry. But after his resurrection and ascension, there they are in the upper room worshiping him as God (Acts 1:14).

Why didn’t they believe? And what made them change?

The Bible doesn’t answer the first question. But I’ll bet it was difficult to have Jesus for a brother.

First, Jesus would have been without peer in intellect and wisdom. He was astounding temple rabbis by age 12 (Luke 2:42, 47). A sinful, fallen, gifted sibling can be a hard act to follow. Imagine a perfect, gifted sibling.

Second, Jesus’ consistent and extraordinary moral character must have made him odd and unnerving to be around. His siblings would have grown increasingly self-conscious around him, aware of their own sinful, self-obsessed motives and behavior, while noting that Jesus didn’t seem to exhibit any himself. For sinners, that could be hard to live with.

Third, Jesus was deeply and uniquely loved by Mary and Joseph. How could they not have treated him differently? They knew he was the Lord. Imagine their extraordinary trust in and deference to Jesus as he grew older. No doubt the siblings would have perceived a dimension to the relationship between the oldest child and their parents that was different from what they experienced.

And when swapping family stories it would have been hard to match a star appearing at your brother’s birth.

Jesus out-classed his siblings in every category. How could anyone with an active sin nature not resent being eclipsed by such a phenom-brother? Familiarity breeds contempt when pride rules the heart.

More pain than we know must have been behind Jesus’ words, “a prophet is not without honor except in his hometown and in his own household” (Matthew 13:57).

So as we assess the role our weak, stumbling witness plays in our family members’ unbelief, let’s remember Jesus—not even a perfect witness guarantees that loved ones will see and embrace the gospel. We must humble ourselves and repent when we sin. But let’s remember that the god of this world and indwelling sin is what blinds the minds of unbelievers (2 Corinthians 4:4).

The story of Jesus’ brothers can actually give us hope for our loved ones. At the time his brothers claimed that Jesus was “out of his mind” (Mark 3:21), it must have appeared very unlikely that they would ever become his disciples. But eventually they did! And not only followers, but leaders and martyrs in the early church.

The God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” shone in their hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of their brother, Jesus (2 Corinthians 4:6).

So take heart! Don’t give up praying for unbelieving family members. Don’t take their resistance as the final word. They may yet believe, and be used significantly in the kingdom!

And while they resist, or if they have died apparently unbelieving, we can trust them to the Judge of all the earth who will be perfectly just (Genesis 18:25). Jesus does not promise that every parent, sibling, or child of a Christian will believe, but does painfully promise that some families will divide over him (Matthew 10:34-39). We can trust him when it happens.

It is moving to hear James refer to his brother as “our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory” (James 2:1). Can you imagine what this phrase meant for James? The Lord of glory had once slept beside him, ate at his dinner table, played with his friends, spoke to him like a brother, endured his unbelief, paid the debt of his sin, and then brought him to faith.

It may have taken 20-30 years of faithful, prayerful witness by the Son of God, but the miracle occurred: his brothers believed. May the Lord of glory grant the same grace to our beloved unbelievers.

Jesus and Nazareth are inseparable. Jesus spent most of his life in Nazareth. The prophets had said, “He shall be called a Nazarene” (Matthew 2:23). History would remember him as Jesus of Nazareth. Even the demons called him that (Luke 4:34).

That’s why this verse is one of the saddest observations made during Jesus’ public ministry:

And he did not do many mighty works [in Nazareth], because of their unbelief. (Matthew 13:58)

It’s a great irony that the Pride of Nazareth was rejected by the Nazarenes because of pride.

You know who this is? It’s Joseph the carpenter’s son! We know his family. I mean, they’re respectable enough people. But I know for a fact that none of them received formal religious education. Where in the world is Jesus getting this teaching? Does he really think he’s somebody great?

They were deeply offended. Why? Because he was one of them. So if he thought he was superior to them, he had another thing coming. Familiarity bred the pride of contempt in them.

What is frightening in this account is the power of pride to blind and deaden the soul. Just consider the consequence of such pride for the Nazarenes: the merciful power of the Messiah was withheld from them.

Pride is to be feared and treated like a cancer. “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6). We do not want to miss out on any gift of God’s grace because we are nurturing pride in our hearts.

“Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me and lead me in the way everlasting!” (Psalm 139:23-24)

“He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3).

We know very little about Jesus’ childhood. But as I’ve been meditating recently on what it must have been like growing up having Jesus as a sibling, I can’t help but wonder what it must have been like for him.

We know that Jesus’ own brothers didn’t believe in him (John 7:5), possibly until after his resurrection (Acts 1:14). Could some of Jesus’ experience of rejection and grief possibly have resulted from estrangement he experienced in his own family simply because he was without sin?

He was a perfect child living with sinful parents, sinful siblings, and sinful extended relatives. The difference between him and them must have become increasingly apparent and awkward. Sinners can be cruel to those who are different from them, especially if envy infects their cruelty.

Sometimes we feel alone in the world. But in a very real sense, Jesus was alone in the world. No person on earth, much less in his family, could identify with him. No human being could put an arm around him as he sat in tears and say, “I know exactly what you’re going through.”

I’ll bet Jesus understands loneliness far better than we might think.

“Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?”

This was a surprising question coming from John the Baptist.

It’s unclear exactly when John first consciously knew that Jesus was the Son of God, whose way he had come to prepare. The Apostle John quotes him as saying, “I myself did not know him” (John 1:31) around the time he baptized Jesus.

This is remarkable because John’s mother, Elizabeth, had known. She knew because John announced it to her in utero by leaping when she heard Mary’s voice. Was she not allowed to tell him? We don’t know. Regardless, John had known even before he knew.

What is clear is that when the revelation came it was an overwhelming experience for John. That day, when Jesus approached him at the Jordan near Bethany, John couldn’t contain the shout: “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” With awe and trembling hands he had baptized his Lord. And then saw the Spirit descend and remain on him.

That day had also marked the beginning of the end of his ministry. From that point he had joyfully directed people away from himself to follow Jesus. And they had.

Now he sat in Antipas’ filthy prison. He had expected this. Prophets who rebuke sinful kings usually do not fare well. Unfortunately, he had not been an exception. Herodias wanted him dead. John could see no reason why she would be denied her wish.

What he hadn’t expected was to be tormented by such oppressive doubts and fears. Since the Jordan, John had not doubted that Jesus was the Christ. But stuck alone in this putrid cell he was assaulted by horrible, accusing thoughts.

What if he had been wrong? There had been many false prophets in Israel. What made him so sure that he wasn’t one? What if he had led thousands astray?

There had been false messiahs. What if Jesus was just another? So far Jesus’ ministry wasn’t exactly what John had always imagined the Messiah’s would look like. Could this imprisonment be God’s judgment?

It felt as if God had left him and the devil himself had taken his place. He tried to recall all the prophecies and signs that had seemed so clear to him before. But it was difficult to think straight. Comfort just wouldn’t stick to his soul. Doubts buzzed around his brain like the flies around his face.

The thought of being executed for the sake of righteousness and justice he could bear. But he could not bear the thought that he might have been wrong about Jesus. His one task was to prepare the way of the Lord. If he had gotten that wrong, his ministry, his life, was in vain.

But even with his doubts, there remained in John a deep, unshakable trust in Jesus. Jesus would tell him the truth. He just needed to hear from him again.

So he sent two of his closest disciples to ask Jesus, “Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?”  

The affection that radiated from Jesus was palpable. Jesus was familiar with John’s sorrows and grief and the satanic storms that break on the saints when they are weak and alone. He loved John.

So he invited John’s faithful friends to sit near him as he healed many and delivered many from demonic prisons.

Then he turned them with kind tears glistening in his eyes and said, “Tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up and the poor have the gospel preached to them.” John would recognize Isaiah’s prophecy in those words. This promise would bring the peace John needed to sustain him for the few difficult days he had remaining.

Out of love for his friend, Jesus didn’t include Isaiah’s phrase “proclaim liberty to the captives.” John would understand.

When Jesus had sent John’s disciples away, he said something stunning about John: no one born of women had ever been greater. This, right after John questioned who Jesus was.

In this age, even the greatest, strongest saints experience deep darkness. None of us are spared sorrow or satanic oppression. Most of us suffer agonizing affliction at some point. Most of us will experience seasons when we feel as if we’ve been abandoned. Most of us will die hard deaths.

The Savior does not break the bruised reed. He hears our pleas for help and is patient with our doubts. He does not condemn us. He has paid completely for any sin that is exposed in our pain.

He does not always answer with the speed we desire, nor is his answer always the deliverance we hope for. But he will always send the help that is needed. His grace will always be sufficient for those who trust him. The hope we taste in the promises we trust will often be the sweetest thing we experience in this age. And his reward will be beyond our imagination.

In John’s darkness and pain Jesus sent a promise to sustain John’s faith. He will do the same for you.

Last fall, John Piper delivered the opening message at the True Women 08 conference, sponsored by Nancy Leigh DeMoss’s ministry, Revive Our Hearts. ROH aired this message in 2 parts on their radio program last week.

• Part 1, "The Most Influential People in the World"
• Part 2, "Don't Waste Your Womanhood"

He was one of the walking dead. It had almost been three years since the priest examined that suspicious spot on his left arm and looked at him with sympathy, “I’m so sorry. It’s leprosy. May God have mercy on you, my son.”

Leprosy made you die many times before it killed you. It cut you off from those you loved most in the world. It forced you to live with other unclean people in a hopeless colony away from the town. Those with more advanced cases showed you what you had to look forward to.

It also forced you to scream “Unclean!” whenever people approached, and suffer the humiliation of watching them cover themselves and hurry by, cutting you a wide swath. And worst of all, it excluded you from the worshiping community that once had been the center of your life.

He had once prayed that God would protect him from this disease. Then he had prayed that God would heal him. God had done neither.

What had he done to deserve leprosy? It must have been some sin. But it didn’t make sense. He knew others who were living in sin and were perfectly healthy. He was confused and increasingly despondent.

Then news reached him that the rabbi Jesus was in the area. Word was that Jesus’ teaching was controversial. But apparently he had healed sick people in Capernaum—some of them lepers. This was worth checking out.

So he joined the crowd on the mountain, keeping his distance, to listen to the rabbi teach and see if the healing stories were true.

What he heard transformed him. Jesus was different—from everyone. He spoke with power and authority. It was as if his very words coursed with life. He talked about the kingdom of God and the end of death and the promise of eternal life. And Jesus claimed that he could grant it!

Normally he would have written Jesus off as another delusional “messiah.” A dying man didn’t have time for delusions. Yet here he was, hanging on Jesus’ words.

Maybe it was because Jesus wasn’t just talk. People he knew as sinners repented and received forgiveness. Demon-possessed people received deliverance. And diseased people received healing.

But it was more than that. The joy his followers had seemed to go deeper than good health. They were clean inside. They were free. He wasn’t sure what it was, but the hope he tasted in Jesus’ words made him long for something beyond healing.

So he made up his mind. Whatever it took, he was going to get to Jesus and ask him to cleanse him from his leprosy and anything else that defiled him. And if Jesus granted him this gift, he was going to follow him.

So he trailed Jesus down the mountain, looking and praying for the right moment. He had an anxious knot in his gut. What if the moment never came? What if it came and Jesus said no?  

It came just as Jesus reached the bottom of the mountain. So he moved quickly and dropped on his knees before the rabbi and blurted out, “Lord, if you will, you can make me clean.”

He amazed himself at the confidence with which he said those words.

Jesus looked at him. It seemed like a long time. All the conversation nearby stopped. The man could feel everyone watching. Then the kindest smile spread across Jesus’ face as he stretched out his hand and touched him. “I will; be clean.”

The first thing he felt was Jesus’ mercy. He had not been touched by a non-leper in three years.

Then he felt heat course through his whole body. Then tingling! He felt tingling in the tips of his fingers—fingers he had thought would never feel again! There were gasps from the crowd. He pulled up his sleeves. No spots! He looked up at Jesus with stunned, speechless joy. He knew he was clean.

Jesus helped him stand up and firmly instructed him to tell no one, but to go show himself to the priest with the gift commanded by Moses “for a proof to them.” Nodding, the man stammered, “Thank you!” And with another smile Jesus was off.

As the former leper walked toward the temple, Jesus’ words were ringing in his ears: “I will; be clean.” He shivered. “I will.” Jesus wanted to grant him what he asked for. “Be clean.” Jesus had the power to do it.

That morning all he had wanted was to be healed of leprosy. But now it seemed like that was just a prelude to something much bigger.

God’s good gifts in this life all point to his greatest gift—one he really looks forward to giving us in full. If he did not spare his own son to give us the gift of forgiveness, righteousness, and eternal life, “How will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” (Romans 8:32)

Ask! God is willing and able to give you the very best.

Dear Desiring God Staff,

As 2008 fades into history, I want to tell you again what a precious, undeserved privilege it has been to serve with you in the mission of Desiring God. God granted 44 of you to serve at some time during 2008, 35 of whom remain while the rest have followed the Lord’s call into other fields.

Most of the work—and the most important work—of Desiring God was accomplished this year through you. 1 Peter 2:17 says “Honor everyone.” And so I want to briefly honor each one of you:

Larry Agnew, your godly, pastoral leadership of our remarkable volunteer corps is priceless. When you are here, a sage walks among us.

Scott Anderson, your humble and highly skilled leadership has made our conferences both spiritually rich and logistically excellent. Thank you, brother.

Kevin Beyer, it’s great to have you on board now! Thank you for serving with us in our audio production.

Edd Blott, I can hardly believe we get to have someone of your skill and creativity leading our video production efforts. What you do is amazing!

Dan Brendsel, thank you for years of editorial partnership. God be with you as you pursue your Ph.D. at Wheaton.

Laura Cline, thank you for serving so many on the phone. God bless you in Nashville as you study for an M.A. in English.

Bryan (Stick) DeWire, words are inadequate to express my gratitude for how graciously you assist me, John K, and Carol. I love to hear how you make John laugh!

Sarah DeWire, your excellent assistance for Terry only begins to describe your impact at DG. Thank you for keeping your husband, Bryan, in line for me!

Brian Eaton, I bless the day that you began as Director of Children Desiring God. You are the right man. I treasure our friendship.

Andrea Froehlich, when I saw you serve a struggling caller with your Bible open, I was overwhelmed with how gifted we are to have you.

Ryan Golias, behind your quiet diligence in resource production is a spiritual depth and a bright mind I admire.

Katie Haas, I love that your work station is so close to mine. Your constant cheerfulness buoys my spirit. And you lead our resource consultants very well!

Karen Hieb, you are an answered prayer for the CDG team! You manage projects with great skill and I love your contributions at staff devotions.

Sarah H., I miss you here. I loved your cheerfulness on the phones and your infectious love of the Jewish people.

Eric Johnson, I will miss you too. You are a gifted leader; you have a compelling vision; and you’re a true Christian Hedonist. Thank you for leading the internet team.

Tyler Kenney, your work in preparing so much of our archived material for the web has simply been invaluable. I love your heart. Great days are ahead for you.

John Knight, tears come when I think of the gift your leadership has been this year. Thank you for agreeing to come aboard and for your friendship.

Terry Kurschner, the DG ship stays upright and on course largely through God’s provision of your financial leadership. I don’t know what I would do without you.

Matt Lund, your leadership of BBC’s bookstores, and especially the conference bookstores, have made them world-class in my opinion. Your job is harder than most know. But Jesus knows. Thank you.

Seth Magnuson, it’s a joy to see you in the Int’l Outreach dept now where you heart beats. Exciting days are ahead!

Kate Martin, you are a gift. Beyond skillfully keep our supply chain running, you are always humbly serving the DG staff through your remarkable gift of hospitality. I think there’s a Kate fan club developing...

David Mathis, all of us who at one time have served as JP’s assistant rise up and call you blessed. You far excel us all.

Marty McAlpine, when you pulled me aside at the SLO conference to pray over the video equipment, I knew we had a treasure in you. I cannot begin to thank you for the technical expertise you have brought.

Jeff McFadden, our faraway friend in Phoenix. I rarely get to see you, but I regularly get to see how your excellent programming makes the website soar!

Peter Melling, thank you , thank you, thank you for leading the IT dept singlehandedly and so skillfully! Oh, the help you have been to me personally…

Nathan Miller, thank you so much for assisting David in serving JP! I really enjoyed the breakfast we shared in SLO!

Lukas Naugle, what would DG be without you? I don’t want to think about it. So much of what we’ve done in the last 3 years had its genesis in your creative mind.

Aaron O’Harra, it is not lost on me that we have a pastor-theologian answering phones. Someday I’ll probably be reading your books.

Peter Ostebo, your artistic filmmaking is missed, my friend. May God make you fruitful as you serve the precious church in Illinois.

Matt Perman, you came back! Thank you! Thank God! How good it is to have your brilliant mind and passionate heart in senior leadership at DG!

Bryan Pickering, you are missed. I love your passionate heart for Jesus. He will use you well at Impact and at BBC.

Abraham Piper, you more than anyone are responsible for making the DG blog what it is. Your being on the DG staff is an answer to prayer.

Jenny Rigney, all of us are so thrilled for you and Joe and unborn baby Rigney! But you will be missed more than you know when it’s time to leave.

Josh Sowin, you are still our excellent Webmaster, and I miss you anyway (and Sara)! Though today you’re not regretting your move to Florida. It was 10 below when I drove to work!

Carol Steinbach, your compassion for the suffering and care for prisoners has shaped DG. And thank you for helping us clueless guys actually notice other people.

Michael Stokes, thank you for helping make the Word heard through skillfully editing our audio sermons. Tens of thousands benefit from this every week.

Craig & Kathy Sturm, you are dearly missed. You both were great joys to have around. God’s fruitful blessings on your new ministry in Canada.

Joe & Sarah Sweetman, you both are also missed, but the Navigators on the U of M campus are richer!

Kristin Tabb, you not only have served the CDG effort with editorial excellence, you and Brian have also become authors! Praise God!

Jim Tomaszewski, almost 9 years of partnership. God has used you so significantly to make CDG what it has become. Thank you for enduring.

Mike Tong, I wish I could clone you! Your leadership of the customer service team is outstanding. But it is your heart for Jesus and love of our mission that I treasure most.

Bill Walsh, we will mark 10 years of partnership together next month. I couldn’t be more thrilled with your leadership of International Outreach. Hold tight! The ride will be wild…

And this is just the paid staff. Time would fail me to tell of Terry M, Candi, Nancy, Marlin, Nathan, Alice, Laurie, and a host of other volunteers who regularly give freely of their time to serve at DG.

I love you all and count it one of my life’s greatest honors to have you as friends and co-laborers. Thank you so much for a fruitful year.

Jon Bloom

(Reposted from last year)

Each year Christmas night finds members of my family feeling some melancholy. After weeks of anticipation, the Christmas celebrations have flashed by us and are suddenly gone. And we’re left standing, watching the Christmas taillights and music fade into the night.

But it’s possible that this moment of melancholy may be the best teaching moment of the whole season. Because as long as the beautiful gifts remain unopened around the tree and the events are still ahead of us, they can appear to be the hope we are waiting for. But when the tree is empty and events are past, we realize we are longing for a lasting hope.

So last night, as Pam and I tucked our kids into bed, we talked about a few things with them:

• Gifts and events can’t fill the soul. God gives us such things to enjoy. They are expressions of his generosity as well as ours, but gifts and celebrations themselves are not designed to satisfy. They're designed to point us to the Giver. Gifts are like sunbeams. We are not meant to love sunbeams but the Sun.
• Putting our hope in gifts will leave us empty. Many people live their lives looking for the right sunbeam to make them happy. But if we depend on anything in the world to satisfy our soul’s deepest desire, it will eventually leave us with that post-Christmas soul-ache. We will ask, “Is that all?” because we know deep down that’s not all there is. We are designed to treasure a Person, not his things.
• It is more blessed to give than receive. What kind of happiness this Christmas felt richer, getting the presents that you wanted or making someone else happy with something that you gave to them? Receiving is a blessing, but Jesus is right—giving is a greater blessing. A greedy soul lives in a small, lonely world. A generous soul lives in a wide world of love.

It’s just like God to let the glitter and flash of the celebrations (even in his honor) to pass and then to come to us in the quiet, even melancholic void they leave. Because often that’s when we are most likely to understand the hope he intends for us to have at Christmas.

…is my big brother, Jim. He has been since I was young. Being five years older than me, he was always the epitome of what it meant to be big.

But when he was in college (and I in Jr. High) he was dramatically converted. And he became the most significant model for me in my teens and 20’s of what it meant to be a disciple of Jesus. He really lived what he believed.

He still does. He and his amazing wife, Raquel, have been church planters among the urban poor of Minneapolis for the past 15 years. I know the work they do. It is hard. It doesn’t garner much attention.

A call to preach to and live out the gospel with those struggling with generational poverty, life-controlling addictions, and deeply ingrained destructive habits does not generally produce impressive statistics. It is the hard work of planting and cultivating. It may be that much of the harvest will be reaped by others.

But such faithfulness is not lost on Jesus. He knows. And he will reward.

All this poured out of my heart last week when I read Jim’s 2-page December ministry letter. It’s a beautiful Christmas reflection on what Jesus meant by “blessed are the poor.” I’m going to read it to my kids.

Who deserves such a brother? I doubt he realizes how much he has shaped me. He remains one of my heroes.

Mary wasn’t herself. Joseph had sensed some urgency in her request that he meet her at “their” tree. She was staring at the ground. She seemed burdened. 

“Mary, is something wrong?”

She looked up at him intensely. “Joseph…  I’m pregnant.”

A blast of shock and disbelief hit him, blowing away all his coherent thoughts for a moment. His legs quavered. He grabbed at the tree to steady himself. It felt solid, rooted.

He stared at her. He was numb. No words came. Everything seemed surreal.

Mary was still looking at him with her intense eyes. He saw no shame in them. No defensiveness, no defiance. Not even tears. They looked…innocent. And they were searching his eyes for an answer.

Mary broke the charged silence. “What I need to tell you next I don’t even know how to say.”

Joseph leaned harder into the tree, bracing himself. He looked down to Mary’s feet. Her feet. They looked just the same as they did when he believed she was pure.

That was what made everything so strange. Mary looked as chaste as she ever did. If she had been the flirtatious type or had some discernable character weakness, this news might have been comprehendible. But Mary was literally the very last person Joseph would have suspected of unfaithfulness. He could not imagine her with another lover. He didn’t want to know who it was.  

“What I’m going to say is will be very difficult to believe. But will you hear me out?” Still looking at Mary’s feet, Joseph’s nod was barely detectable.

“I have not been unfaithful to you.”

 Joseph lifted his eyes to hers. Rape? That might explain her innocence. But why wouldn’t she tell me—

“God has caused me to become pregnant.”

This statement flew around his mind, looking for a place to land. It found none.

“Joseph, I know how it sounds. But I’m telling you the truth.” Then Mary described an angelic visit and the message she had received. She was to bear a son, conceived by the Holy Spirit, who would be called the Son of the Most High who would sit on David’s throne forever. God was the baby’s father. Mary was pregnant with the Messiah.

Mary sounded as sane as ever. Nothing about her was different—except that she was claiming to be pregnant with God’s child. He felt like his brain was exploding. Was she adding blasphemy to adultery? He could not conceive of her being capable of either.

“I…I don’t even know what to say to you, Mary. I can’t even think straight. I need to be alone.”

Joseph spent the late afternoon walking up on the brow of the hill that overlooked Nazareth. Things were clear up there. From this 500-foot perspective he could see the Sea of Galilee to the east, and to the west he could just see the blue Mediterranean on the horizon. But he could not see how Mary’s story could be true. He could not recall anything like it in the Torah. “God, show me what to do,” he pleaded.

The sun was setting as Joseph walked back toward the nearly finished house that was to be their home—the house he had dreamed just that morning would someday know the happy voices of his and Mary’s children. That dream was now dead. His decision was made. Mary’s claims were too incredible, maybe even delusional. He needed to end the betrothal, but he resolved to do it as quietly as possible, shielding Mary from avoidable shame. He still loved her.

That night he fell asleep, exhausted from grief. And then the angel came to him and his world was flipped right side-up.

There is an encouraging lesson to draw from this story. Joseph was a just man (Matt. 1:19) and assessed the situation in the integrity of his heart, and, I assume, with a deep trust in God. He made the best decision regarding Mary that he could. It turned out to be the wrong one. But God, full of mercy, intervened. He gently corrected Joseph and gave him the guidance he needed.

He will do the same for us as we trust him.

Vaughn Roberts has written a really helpful, brief book titled, God’s Big Picture. He shows how the entire Bible reveals how and why God is establishing his kingdom.

He walks the reader through the major sections of Scripture, and does an especially good job pointing out the gospel in both the Old and New Testaments.

The book is targeted toward adults, but it’s so readable that I just took my two older children (ages 12 & 10) through it. So if you’re looking for a helpful, brief overview of the Bible’s storyline for yourself, your older children, small group, Sunday School class, or Bible study, this is a great resource.

The armies of Moab, Ammon, and Edom were on the move. Destination: Jerusalem. They were relatives of the Israelites; Moab and Ammon were descended from Lot and Edom from Esau. But this was no family reunion. This was a slaughter in the making.

These three nations bordered Israel and Judah on the east and south. And since the reigns of David and Solomon, they had off-and-on been subject to the kings of Israel, paying a tribute tax and providing forced labor for Israel.

But it had been over 60 years since Solomon’s death and Israel had split into two kingdoms. Their strength was divided. And the northern kingdom was weakened from its battles with Syria. The time was ripe. If they joined forces now, they could crush the army of Judah and plunder king Jehoshaphat’s wealth. After that, maybe the northern kingdom.

Jehoshaphat caught wind of the impending attack. It didn’t take a Pythagoras to do the math. His army was like a sandcastle facing a large wave about to break right on it. The kingdom of Judah would be swept away unless he got some very strong help.

Now, forget for the moment that you know the fairytale-like ending to the story. What would it have been like to be Jehoshaphat? A brutal death for himself and everyone he loves. Tens of thousands of his people were bearing down on him. Everyone was looking to him to do something to save them. Imagine the pressure.

Jehoshaphat really did trust the Lord and believed his promises. He did believe God could rescue Judah. He wanted to honor God by his trust. And, in this case, he didn’t have many alternatives. Sometimes that is a great mercy.

He must have remembered his father Asa’s mistake. As a younger king Asa had cried out to the Lord for deliverance when his small army faced one million Ethiopian soldiers and God had miraculously answered him. But in later years he abandoned that trust and forged an alliance with Syria. And God disciplined him severely for it.

So Jehoshaphat gathered the people of Judah in Jerusalem for a fast. They stood before the temple, and the king, in an act of great leadership, pleaded their case before the Lord and then said this:

“We are powerless against this great horde that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you. (2 Chronicles 20:12)

Isn’t that a beautiful confession? It is so child-like in its humility and faith. It is, in fact, another Old Testament picture of the gospel. We are powerless to save ourselves. But when we look to God and call on him for deliverance from the impending judgment, he brings about a salvation beyond our wildest imagination.

The reason God orchestrated Jehoshaphat’s predicament is the same as his design in the tribulations and crises in our lives: he want us to increasingly find freedom from fear.  

You see, real freedom is not the liberty to do what we want, or even the absence of distress. Real freedom is the deep-seated confidence that God really will provide everything we need. The person who believes this is the freest of all persons on earth, because no matter what situation they find themselves in, they have nothing to fear. 

But the only way for sinners like us with a bent toward unbelief in God to find this kind of freedom is by experiencing repeatedly God’s delivering power and his faithfulness. That’s why we are to count it all joy when we meet trials of various kinds (James 1:2). They are making us free.

There are a lot of temptations to fear right now: political change, economic calamity, natural disasters, all on top of personal hardships. If you're feeling the wight of these things, you may be helped by the message, “Fear Not, I Am With You, I Am Your God.” In this sermon, John Piper unpacks Isaiah 41:1-13, one of his favorite texts, and gives us what he calls “the key to overcoming fear.” Remember that all these difficult things are working together for your good and for your ultimate freedom and joy.

God answered Jehoshaphat’s faith-filled prayer in a spectacular way. He threw the Ammonites, Moabites, and Edomites into confusion and they slaughtered one another. Jehoshaphat and his choir-led army never had to lift a sword. And it took them three days to carry the plunder back home.

God’s word to us through this story in all the crises we face is this: “Do not be afraid and do not be dismayed at this great horde, for the battle is not yours but God’s” (2 Chronicles 20:15).

I just read on Justin Taylor’s blog Eric Redmond’s reflections on the election of Barack Obama to the American presidency. It's the most beautiful articulation I have read or heard of the marvel and the mourning many of us are experiencing in this historic moment.

Ruth Wasn’t Even a Jew

The book of Ruth is amazing. Not simply because it’s a great story about love, loyalty, faith, romance and redemption. But its very presence in the Bible is amazing. Stuck right there in the Old Testament is a book named after a non-Jewish woman.

Ruth was a Moabite. Her ancestry had its origin in the incest committed between Lot and his oldest daughter. And though Moabites were related to the Israelites, so to speak, they were enemies because Moab had opposed Israel’s advance toward Canaan. And Moabites were not known to worship Yahweh. They were polytheistic pagans, occasionally offering human sacrifices to idol-gods like Chemosh.

As a result, God prohibited the Jews from intermingling and intermarrying with Moabites (Ezra 9:10-12)—unless a Moabite renounced all that being a Moabite meant and became all that it meant to be a Jew.

So the fact that one of the canonical books of the Old Covenant is named after a Moabite woman is itself a testimony that a miracle of God’s grace had taken place.

A Great Back-story in Ruth

There is a great back-story in Ruth that makes things really interesting. Boaz, who became Ruth’s redeemer-husband, was the son of Rahab. (From the biblical record, it appears that Boaz’s father was Salmon and his mother was Rahab (Ruth 4:21, 1 Chron. 2:11, Matt. 1:5), but since biblical genealogies sometimes skip generations, it's possible that Rahab was Boaz’s grandmother or great-grandmother. Regardless, her maternal influence in Boaz’s family would likely have had a similar effect on Boaz to the one I imagine here.)

Remember Rahab? She was another non-Jewish woman, a Canaanite and a former prostitute. She and her family were the only survivors of Israel’s conquest of Jericho, because she hid the Jewish spies and helped them escape.

So imagine the stories Boaz heard as he grew up. And imagine how having a mother who had been a foreigner and a harlot, yet was grafted into the olive tree of Israel by the grace of God, affected the way Boaz viewed Ruth that day he saw her gleaning in his field. Other men might have simply seen a foreign woman scrounging for food, like a parasite. But Boaz saw something familiar and dear in a woman who had left her family, her nation, and her gods, to embrace Naomi, her nation, and her God.

It seems Boaz was uniquely prepared by God for Ruth and Ruth for Boaz. Isn’t that beautiful? A marriage made in heaven.

But there was so much more in the works than a fairytale romance. Their union produced a son named Obed, who had a son named Jesse, who had a son named David, who became the greatest king Israel ever had.

Until David’s progeny produced a King named Jesus.

Notorious Women in Jesus’ Family

Jesus is unashamed to have women of questionable repute in his family. In fact, he actually goes out of his way to point them out. In Jesus’ genealogy listed in Matthew chapter one, only fathers and sons are recorded, with five notable exceptions where mothers are also named.

Both Ruth and Rahab make the list (Matt 1:5). So does Tamar (Matt. 1:3), who entered the royal bloodline by disguising herself as a harlot and seducing Judah to impregnate her (because of the unjust way he treated her—see Gen. 38). Bathsheba, whom David stole from Uriah, gets mentioned (Matt 1:6). And so does Mary, Jesus’ own mother, who became pregnant with Jesus outside of marriage, and whose claim to miraculous conception was received by most with…um… skepticism (Matt 1:16).

Isn’t that wonderful? People tend to conceal the more disgraceful events and people in their family. But not Jesus. He chooses to highlight possibly the five most scandalous women in his lineage.

God weaves his grace throughout the Bible—even through the genealogies! God loves to redeem sinners. He loves to produce something beautiful out of sordid family backgrounds. He loves to make foreigners his children and reconcile his enemies. He loves to make all things work together for good for those who love him and are called according to his purpose (Rom. 8:28).

Each of these women, who entered redemptive history during the Old Covenant era, are beautiful illustrations of what God would later say to Peter when clarifying that his grace is extended to all peoples: “What God has made clean, do not call common” (Acts 10:15). That is amazingly good news to commoners, foreigners, and sinners like us.

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Recommended Resources:

• Ruth: Under the Wings of God
• 4 messages on Ruth that John Piper recently delivered at a conference in the U.K.

In reading through the Book of Revelation recently, by the time I got to the end of chapter 19, the wars, rebellion, suffering, death and judgments were almost overwhelming. Oh how I wanted Jesus to wrap everything up and fully bring his kingdom of righteousness and justice and peace.

Finally, in the first three verses of chapter 20, Satan is bound with a chain and tossed into the pit so that he might not deceive the nations any longer.

I wanted to jump out of my seat and cheer with the saints!

And then I read the end of verse three:

After [the thousand years] he must be released for a little while.

Oh no. The worst murderer, liar, and ravager to ever exist must be released? Why? Hasn’t he wreaked enough destruction and sorrow and pain in the universe?

The context of this verse leaves no room for doubt as to who has authority to bind or loose Satan. God does. So this “must” is God’s must.

Now, there is not some law outside of God dictating to him what he must do. If something “must” take place it is something he determines in the secret counsels of his own will.

So here we have a must that we don’t understand: the release of Satan. And God gives us no explanation for why it must be. He just tells us. Which leaves us to either trust him or not.

So how do we know we can trust God’s goodness when he decrees a horrible must, something beyond our ability to comprehend, something that might appear to us capricious or even evil?

The best place to look is the cross.

Anyone who has ever wrestled, even agonized, over God’s musts has a sympathetic High Priest. Three times in Gethsemane Jesus pleaded with his Father, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will” (Matthew 26:39).

Listen to the Son: Father, must these things take place? If they must, I will trust you.

The Father had decreed a must. And in the intensity of the pain the Son pleads to be delivered from it. But the cross must be endured for all righteousness to be fulfilled and for the maximum glory of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit to be seen, as well as for the joy of the saints to be experienced.

So the Son endures the Father’s must for the joy that was set before him—and all of us (Hebrews 12:2).

In Gethsemane, we see that God does not subject us to a pain he is unwilling to bear himself. But on the cross we see our God willing to bear a pain that he is unwilling for us to bear, though it is what we deserve.

The Son bore the full wrath of the Father against our sin so that we will never experience it. We will experience profound sorrow in this life, but we will never know the depths that the Man of Sorrows experienced.

John Piper said it beautifully to me recently,

[In the cross] is where the worst that God ever ordained and the best that God ever ordained meet and become one.

If you are tempted to wonder how any good could possibly redeem the evil you see in the musts that you endure or see in the world or see in the Bible, take a long, lingering look at the cross. It is the best picture of how God can use the worst evil to bring about inexpressible joy for his people.

The musts of God, even allowing Satan to ravage, are actually invitations for us to take great comfort in the colossal sovereignty behind them. Profound comfort comes when we learn to trust that, when God’s ways are inscrutable (Romans 11:33), the Judge of all the earth will do what is just (Genesis 18:25) and will work all things together for our good and everlasting joy (Romans 8:28).

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Recommended resource: Called to Suffer and Rejoice: For an Eternal Weight of Glory.

Like many of you, DG staff members have relatives and friends that live directly in the path of this storm. Events like this remind us that “here we have no lasting city” (Heb. 13:14). Everything can shake. Everything can be destroyed. We are very small and not in control.

The Lord wants us to remember those in distress and pray for them. He loves to answer prayer. We don’t want to fail in doing that.

And he also wants us to take shelter in his massive sovereignty. Here is what I wrote this morning to a dear friend who lives in the path of the storm’s eye:

The Lord of every storm and every rain drop and every wind gust and every house and every street and every tree and every power line and every car and every life will “never leave you nor forsake you. Therefore we can confidently say, ‘The Lord is my helper, I will not fear, what can man [or nature] do to me’” (Heb 13:5-6).

For I am sure that neither tribulation nor distress nor persecution nor famine nor nakedness nor sword nor death nor life nor angels nor rulers nor things present nor things to come nor powers nor height nor depth nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus (Rom. 8:35, 38-39).

Ike is no match for Jesus Christ. Even the winds and water obey his commands (Luke 8:25). All his disciples are safe in his boat, even as the winds rage and the waves slap over the sides.

As a Christian, when you experience a painful providence like an illness or a rebellious child or a broken marriage or a financial hardship or persecution, do you ever wonder if God is punishing you for some sin you committed?

If you do, there is some very good news from the letter to the Hebrews.

The original readers of this letter had been experiencing persecution and affliction for some time. They were tired, discouraged, and confused—why was God allowing such hardships? And some were doubting.

So after some doctrinal clarifications and some firm exhortations and a few sober warnings (so they could examine if their faith was real) the author of the letter brought home a very important point.

He wanted his readers to remember that the difficulty and pain they were experiencing was not God’s punishment for their sins or weak faith. Chapters 7-10 beautifully explain that Jesus’ sacrifice for sin was once for all believers for all time (10:14). No sacrifice of any kind for sin was ever needed again (10:18).

He followed that up in chapter 11 with example after example of how the life of faith has always been difficult for saints.

And then he wrote the tender encouragement and exhortation of chapter 12 where he quoted Proverbs 3:11-12:

My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,
nor be weary when reproved by him.
For the Lord disciplines the one he loves,
and chastises every son whom he receives.

“It is for discipline that you endure. God is treating you as sons,” he said. These saints were not to interpret their painful experiences as God’s angry punishment for their sins. That angry punishment was completely spent on Jesus—once for all—on the cross.

Rather, this was the message they were to understand from their hardships: God loves you! He has fatherly affection for you. He cares deeply for you. He is taking great pains so that you will share his holiness (12:10) because he wants you to be as happy as possible and enjoy the peaceful fruit of righteousness (12:11).

This is why as a father, whenever I discipline my children, I always try to make it clear to them that I am not paying them back for their sins. That’s why I don’t use the term “punishment.” I don’t want them to misunderstand and think I am giving them what they deserve. That’s God’s job. And if they trust in Jesus, all their punishment was taken care of on the cross.

Instead, I always use the terms “discipline” or “correction” and explain that I love them and my intention, even though the discipline is painful, is to correct and train them. I want them to know that their father loves them, cares for them deeply, and is taking great pains to point them toward the way of joy.

It is crucial that we remember that everything God feels toward us as Christians is gracious. When God disciplines us it is a precious form of his favor. It’s what a loving father does. He is not giving us what we deserve because he “canceled the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands...nailing it to the cross” (Colossians 2:14). Instead, he is training us in righteousness. Because he loves us so very much.

*            *            *

Recommended resource: "The Painful Discipline of Our Heavenly Father"

When Sam Crabtree (DG Board member and Executive Pastor at Bethlehem Baptist) recently asked us what he needed to do to get some DWYL stickers, Lukas Naugle replied that Sam needed to write a song about what a deacon does, since they've been discussing that at Bethlehem lately.

Sam, never one to back down from a challenge, has penned what I’m sure will be another classic hymn of the church:

A Mighty Deacon

(to the tune of “A Mighty Fortress”)

A mighty deacon is our man;
He does what others think he can.
Qualifications he doth meet.
Electing him they thinketh sweet.
And so they cast their vote;
They do not rock the boat.
Their craft and pow’r are great:
Quorum! Electorate!
That deacon look is in his eye.

Did he is his own strength confide,
That deacon would be freakin’.
But what’s a deacon spozed to do?
His job is what we’re tweakin’.
Dost ask what tasks they be?
Might they be two? Or three?
How shall he play the game?
From age to age the same:
With deacon look there in his eye.

And though this world with deacons filled
Should threaten to undo us,
We will not fear, for votes have willed:
Electing deacons to us.
If you’re a deacon, deek!
If you’re a beacon, beak!
Let goods and kindred go,
And rationale also.
The deacon is forever.

Our friends at Covenant Life Church are preaching a series of “Don’t Waste Your…Life” sermons this summer. The whole series looks great!

Joshua Harris, Gregg Harris, Dave Harvey, C. J. Mahaney, Robin Boisvert, Mark Mitchell, Jeff Purswell, and Jon Smith will all contribute.

If you know anything about C. J., you won’t be surprised that his sermon assignments are “Don’t Waste Your Humor” (which he preached yesterday) and “Don’t Waste Your Sports.”