Jon Bloom is the Executive Director of Desiring God.

Did you wake up not feeling like reading your Bible and praying? How many times today have you had to battle not feeling like doing things you know would be good for you?

While it’s true that this is our indwelling sin that we must repent of and fight against, there’s more going on.

Think about this strange pattern that occurs over and over in just about every area of life:

• Good food requires discipline to prepare and eat while junk food tends to be the most tasty, addictive, and convenient.
• Keeping the body healthy and strong requires frequent deliberate discomfort while it only takes constant comfort to go to pot.
• You have to make yourself pick up that nourishing theological book while watching a movie can feel so inviting.
• You frequently have to force yourself to get to devotions and prayer while sleeping, reading the sports, and checking Facebook seems effortless.
• To play beautiful music requires thousands of hours of tedious practice.
• To excel in sports requires monotonous drills ad nauseum.
• It takes years and years of schooling just to make certain opportunities possible.
• This goes on and on.

The pattern is this: the greater joys are obtained through struggle and pain, while brief, unsatisfying, and often destructive joys are right at our fingertips. Why is this?

Because, in great mercy, God is showing us everywhere, in things that are just shadows of heavenly things, that there is a great reward for those who struggle through (Hebrews 10:32-35). He is reminding us repeatedly each day to walk by faith and not by sight (2 Corinthians 5:7).

Each struggle is an invitation by God to follow in the footsteps of his Son, “who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2).

Those who are spiritually blind only see futility in these things. But for those who have eyes to see, God has woven hope (faith in future grace) right into the futility of creation (Romans 8:20-21). Each struggle is a pointer saying, “Look! Look to the real Joy set before you!”

So when you don’t feel like doing what you know is best for you, take heart and don’t give in. Your Father is pointing you to the reward he has planned for all who endure to the end (Matthew 24:13).

For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:17-18)

We tend to think of following Jesus as leaving behind the familiar for the unfamiliar. But sometimes, like for the man in Luke 8:26-39, the more difficult call is to go back home.

For the first time in a long time he was in full control of his mind. He could think! No rage. No fear. No torment. Peace like the quiet sea. He actually wanted to keep his clothes on.

But the most strangely wonderful thing of all was his sense of cleanness. His soul was clean.

The tomb-man from Gadara looked up at Jesus again. His lucid mind mulled over the words, “Son of the Most High God.”

Who would have thought that the Son of God looked so much like other Jewish men? He wasn’t very big. The tomb-man had beaten off much larger men in his demonic rages.

It was, in fact, his demons that had recognized Jesus. Son of God was their term. What was it that they saw? In all his tormented years, he had never felt anything like the terror that coursed through him when he saw Jesus get out of the boat. It was the terror of the damned. He had thought he’d been living in hell already. Now he knew better.

And now, with the demons gone, nothing he had ever experienced came close to the safety and peace he felt simply being near Jesus. He had only known Jesus for a few hours, but had already determined to be Jesus’ disciple for life. Life with him would be heaven on earth.

The man looked out on the Tiberius. Pig carcasses were washing ashore and drifting out to sea. He shivered at the disturbing memory. He felt Jesus’ reassuring hand on his shoulder.  

A noise made them all turn back toward the hill. A small crowd of people was approaching, with the pig herdsmen leading the way. You could hear alarm in their voices.  

A few men went on to survey the dead floating herd. But the rest stopped some twenty feet away. Everyone strained for a look at the tomb-man. He recognized most of them.

He was used to seeing fear in their eyes. But it was different this time. As a herdsman recounted what happened, they kept looking at him and then to Jesus. It was Jesus they were afraid of.

The crowd’s murmuring crescendoed into anxious pleas: “Please leave! We don’t want any more trouble here!” Some were already hurrying back toward the city. For years the tomb-man, this one-man barracks of a thousand devils, had terrorized them. And now here was someone even more powerful. Whatever witchcraft Jesus possessed, they wanted it far away from them.

The tomb-man felt confusion and grief. They didn’t understand! Jesus wasn’t anything like the demons. Jesus’ power was clean, holy. Jesus was potently kind. They were jumping to the wrong conclusions. If they would just listen to what he had to say...

But Jesus motioned to Peter to ready the boat. He was leaving!

The man jumped up and said to him, “Sir, please, may I go with you? I’ll follow you anywhere!”

Jesus looked hard at him without speaking. Then he put his reassuring hand on the man’s shoulder again and said, “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.”

The words “return to your home” must have made this man’s heart sink. Home for him was not a warm place of sentimental memories. Home was a place of memories so dark and pain-filled that he likely just wanted to escape them and never go back.

But sometimes following Jesus means being sent back to a place where we once knew desolation and indescribable pain. The thought of returning there conjures up fears of our old demons and the people who knew us as we were back then. But it is there that the grace of God in our lives will shine the brightest.

What Jesus wants us to know is that his salvation and his protection extend to those old, horrible haunts. If he can break the death-grip Satan once had on us and set us free, then he can redeem the places of our former slavery and make them showcases of God’s omnipotent grace.

Do not be afraid. The Good Shepherd will walk with you and protect you on the darkest road (Psalm 23:4). Declare how much God has done for you. You are being sent because there are other tomb-people to free.

The New Testament makes essential things crystal clear: "there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name [besides Jesus] under heaven given among men by which we must be saved" (Acts 4:12). Deny that and you deny the gospel. 

But the New Testament also has a category of gospel-informed convictions which are deeply held, sometimes strongly commended, yet are not universal mandates. These are intended by God to shape our kingdom mindset, guard against temptation, and test our hearts. But they are also meant to be adaptable to our particular calling and context. 

One example was Paul's conviction that he should go to extraordinary lengths to keep money from being a hindrance to the gospel.

Now, we know that in the Gospels (see Matthew 10:8), Acts (see Acts 8:20), and the Epistles (see 2 Corinthians. 2:17) Jesus and the apostles were all very careful to keep gospel ministry from becoming, in either reality or others' perception, a means of great personal financial gain (1 Timothy 6:5).

But we also know that Paul and Barnabas went to greater lengths than other apostles in this area. 

Or is it only Barnabas and I who have no right to refrain from working for a living? Who serves as a soldier at his own expense? Who plants a vineyard without eating any of its fruit?... If we have sown spiritual things among you, is it too much if we reap material things from you? If others share this rightful claim on you, do not we even more? Nevertheless, we have not made use of this right, but we endure anything rather than put an obstacle in the way of the gospel of Christ.... What then is my reward? That in my preaching I may present the gospel free of charge, so as not to make full use of my right in the gospel. (1 Corinthians 9:6-7; 11-12; 18)

Two things are clear in the way Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 9:

1. He strongly believed that this strategy contributed to the spread of the gospel most effectively.
2. He was aware that not everyone did it the way he did. Paul recognized that there were legitimate ways of making a living off the gospel. He simply discerned that foregoing his right to make such a living was more fruitful, whether because of his particular missional context or in general.

No doubt Paul was a strong advocate for his "make it free" ministry philosophy. But he did not judge other apostles for not adopting it to the same degree he did. He knew that "each [person] will give an account of himself to God" (Romans 14:12).

And it's in that spirit that we talk about our "make it free" approach to ministry, as Matt Perman did in his post yesterday.

I loved the post and said amen to every point Matt made. But when explaining and commending such convictions, which are not Scriptural mandates, one can wonder if we are sinfully judging others who do things differently. That certainly is not our intention.

The Lord has his hand on many churches and ancillary ministries whose approach is different from ours and which are producing very good fruit. And even comparing our approach with Paul's makes me blush. We are not in his league when it comes to foregoing rights and suffering for the gospel.

So do not hear from us the message that you must do what we do to do it right. Every calling and context is different. "Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind" (Romans 14:5).

But having said that, we still commend to all to "make it free" as much as possible, and here's why:

The gospel came to us free at great cost to God. Which is why, I believe, Jesus told his disciples, "You received without pay, give without pay" (Matthew 10:8).

The medium of the gospel was to be a reflection of the gospel. When the gospel comes free to people at the cost of those who are bringing it, it says something wonderful. It says that there is a treasure that is worth more than money to be had and by removing even a perceived profit motive it often makes people want to listen. 

God is doing an amazing and beautiful thing in our day by bringing about a recovery of and revived love for the gospel of justification by faith alone apart from works of the law. Yet the damage to the gospel by prosperity preachers and other peddlers of God's word still wields tremendous influence for harm around the world.

It is our hearts' desire and prayer to God that as we all join together to re-clarify for the church and world what the gospel message is, that we present it to them with the kinds of radical generosity and radical reliance on God's provision (2 Corinthians 9:8) that we see in the New Testament.

So knowing that it may look different in each case, let us pray and think and act so that our personal lifestyles and our ministry approaches all seek to reflect and remove all obstacles from the gospel of Jesus Christ.

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Recommended Resource: Money, Markets, and Ministry

In staff devotions recently we were in Proverbs 6. Solomon warns his son against the devastation of adultery. In verses 32-33 he writes,

He who commits adultery lacks sense; 
   he who does it destroys himself. 
He will get wounds and dishonor, 
   and his disgrace will not be wiped away.

For Solomon, every warning against adultery must have been haunted by the memory of his father and mother, David and Bathsheba. Imagine what he must have felt. He was the product of a marriage that never should have been.

He watched the royal family, in the middle of Israel's golden age, implode because this union that brought him into existence had come into existence. God "put away" David's sin (2 Samuel 12:13), determining to bear its condemnation himself (Romans 3:25-26). But he did not remove from David its wounds and disgrace. 

Yet, out of the wreckage that was David's family, emerges Solomon. By choosing him, of all the sons, to assume the throne and to write holy Scripture, God is saying something stunning: he really can work all things, including devastating sin, for good for those who love him and are called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28). 

The destruction of adultery is very real. Its disgrace is lasting. It is to be avoided at all costs. But it still is not more powerful than the grace of God. 

To those who, like David, have fallen, take heart. If you have repented and trust Christ, he has borne all your condemnation. And though you view with painful and appropriate regret the damage your adultery caused, keep your eyes open. It is like God to bring something unexpectedly and amazingly good from it. Because the grace of God is stronger than the sin of man.

Peter watched Jesus make his way toward him, washing the feet of other disciples.

It had already been a confusing Passover. Jesus had been unusually burdened, close to tears all day. The atmosphere during the meal was charged with ominous anticipation.

Peter had grown used to Jesus doing and saying unpredictable things. But what Jesus was doing now was wrong. He was the last person in the room who should be washing feet.

All of Peter’s life he had been taught that feet were dishonorable members of the body. They were usually dirty, frequently smelly, and among the most likely members to come in contact with things that the Law declared unclean.

Outside of immediate family, feet were washed by slaves and servants—ideally non-Jews so as not to subject any of the Covenant People to such humiliation.

And one never insulted an honored person by pointing one’s feet at them.

But here was the Messiah, the most honored Jew to ever walk the earth, stripped like a common slave with a towel around his waist willingly handling the unclean feet of his disciples. This was backwards. If anything, Peter should be down there washing Jesus’ feet.

When Jesus got to Peter he smiled at him and reached for his feet. Peter pulled them back. “Lord, do you wash my feet?”

Jesus loved Peter. The Rock never did anything, right or wrong, without jumping in with—or in this case withholding—both feet. He knew what Peter was thinking. So he replied, “What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand.”

Unwilling to subject Jesus to such dishonor Peter said, “You shall never wash my feet.”

Jesus’ countenance became dead serious. “If I do not wash you, you have no share with me.”

The shock of this statement stunned Peter for a second. He was trying to preserve his Master’s honor. But Jesus was essentially telling him, unless you let me bear your dishonor, your uncleanness, you can’t be my disciple.

Well, he didn’t understand what this all meant, but Peter would leave no doubt about his trust in and love for Jesus: “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!”

Joy radiated from Jesus’ eyes and smile. And as he washed Peter’s feet he said, “The one who has bathed does not need to wash, except for his feet, but is completely clean.”

Then he paused for a moment and looked into Peter’s eyes. This beloved man was unknowingly about to face the most difficult, grievous, and glorious three days of his life. He would benefit from this reassurance: “And you are clean.”

Then his eyes dropped back to Peter’s feet and he resumed washing. “But not every one of you.”

*               *               *

Two lessons from this account in John 13:1-11:

First, much of the Christian life is spent trusting Jesus now and understanding him later. Jesus typically does not feel it necessary to explain on the front end why he is doing something the way he is doing it. And, like Peter, when it looks wrong to us, we are tempted to object to the Lord’s will.

God understands and is patient with our confusion and even our deep wrestling or grief. But he wants us to trust him and not grumble. God’s ways are not our ways (Isaiah 55:8). His purposes for bringing or not bringing certain things to pass often extend far beyond us—maybe even generations beyond us.

So during those times we need to remember Jesus’ words to Peter: “What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand.”

Second, what Jesus is bringing about in the sometimes confusing, sometimes very painful work he is doing in our lives is sanctification. He is washing our feet. He not only bathes us, completely removing the guilt of our sin in his cleansing work on the cross, but in love he keeps forgiving us (1 John 1:9) and disciplines us so that we will share his holiness (Hebrews 12:10-11).

Our understanding his purposes in a particular providence tends to be not as important to God as our trust in his character. So together let’s continue to “trust in the Lord with all [our] heart, and…not lean on [our] own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5). Because one day we will understand. And we will, with great joy, proclaim, “The Lord is righteous in all his ways and kind in all his works” (Psalm 145:17).

In my previous post I reflected on this verse: "Give to the one who begs from you, and do not refuse the one who would borrow from you" (Matthew 5:42). And the comments have been very thoughtful and helpful.

It's a breathtaking command, isn't it? Typical Jesus. If he doesn't knock the wind out of us occasionally, we're not really listening to him.

Just a clarifying thought.

Like the friends who commented, I too wrestle in the specifics of obeying this command. And in my stumbling attempts I have not personally seen many transformed lives. It's enough to make one quite cynical. 

But the reason for our cynicism may be that we are misunderstanding Jesus' purpose for the command. We tend to assume that the motive for radical generosity ought to be to meet a real need and help facilitate transformation in someone's life. If that isn't likely to happen, we shouldn't give. It wastes money and reinforces evil behavior. The problem is Jesus doesn’t command us to give for those reasons.  

What is his reason? "So that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven" (Matthew 5:45) The point? The Father shows radical generosity toward both good and evil people (v. 45). The text makes no promise that all the evil people are reformed as a result of his generosity. From my observation, most are not.

And like Father, like Son. Jesus showed great kindness toward the crowds who followed him and toward those who crucified him. Yet only a few believed in him.

And like Father (and Son), like adopted "sons" (male and female). We are being called to bear the family resemblance. The Father’s children behave like the Father and the Son. One of those ways is the stunning—some would call foolish—way we show generous kindness toward undeserving evil people—the very kindness we’ve received.

If these evil people don’t repent, we are not wasting our generosity on them. Through us, God is showing them grace that he will hold them accountable for someday. We show the world that we love God and not money (Matthew 6:24). And God is showing us that he 

...is able to make all grace abound to [us], so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, [we] may abound in every good work. As it is written, "He has distributed freely, he has given to the poor; his righteousness endures forever.” (2 Corinthians 9:8-9)

Now, there are times when real love dictates that we withhold giving, and the more intimately we are involved in a person’s life the better we can discern this. Biblical love must govern all our actions. God give us wisdom!

It's also helpful to remember that Jesus is instructing disciples, not government agencies or NGO's. He’s not giving a formula for eliminating poverty. Neither is he necessarily instructing a church's institutional approach to community development, though he’s informing it. On those levels it is necessary to carefully identify and strategically address the causes of poverty. 

But he is calling us to radical, gospel generosity. The kind that looks weird in the world. The kind that sifts our motives and tests our love. The kind that is impossible for the natural man. But let’s take heart, that’s the way it’s supposed to be, for “with man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God” (Mark 10:27).

"Give to the one who begs from you, and do not refuse the one who would borrow from you" (Matthew 5:42).

I confess, I have not always obeyed this command.

I'm a veteran urban-dweller. Having lived in an inner city neighborhood for 18 years, I've encountered many beggers and borrowers. Some I discerned as cons I have called out or waved off. Some I have hired to do work. Others I've given to because I felt the conviction of this text.

I've thought a lot about this command of Jesus over the years. I've discussed it with many. I think I know all the major reasons why not to give when someone asks. You don't want to encourage deception. You don't want to feed a chemical addiction. You don't want to contribute to someone's cycle of poverty. And there are many others.

But still this text unnerves and convicts me.

The reason is that Jesus doesn't give this command in the context of addressing how I can best facilitate transformation in someone else. He is telling me how I should respond to those who are making demands on me, either from explicitly evil motives or just plain out of their difficult situation. He is telling me how I ought to respond even when being taken advantage of.

• Do not resist the evil person, he says. Let him slap you twice. (v. 39)
• Give him more than he is suing you for. (v. 40)
• Do more than he is forcing you to do. (v. 41)
• Give to those who ask. (v. 42)
• Love your enemy. (v. 44)

Jesus is telling me to actively show kindness and radical generosity toward those who hate me or who are seeking to take advantage of me.

Really, Jesus? Isn't that rewarding sinful, or at least unhealthy, behavior?

Of course, I can think of Biblical examples that illustrate when it seems right to resist or flee an evil person in situations of theft, deception, abuse, persecution, war, etc. So when the Word speaks, I must listen carefully, and I must weigh all of his words.

But from the words Jesus speaks here, I think it applies more often and more broadly than I want it to. He does not let me off the hook easily. He tests my heart with such radical love. And in my heart I see my selfish, unloving impulses that do not want to part with my money, possessions, time, or convenience for needy or evil people. And I have a ready arsenal of noble-sounding rationales that conceal my sin, almost from myself.

What Jesus is calling me to is gospel love. It's the love that drove him to die for me with when I was still a weak, ungodly, sinful enemy of his (Romans 5:6-10). There is something about such over-the-top, radically generous love that is so different from the way the world loves that it reflects the Father's love for sinners. It's why Jesus calls us also to costly love. It is both an expression and picture of the gospel.

Pray for me. I have an opportunity in my life right now to obey this command, which is why I'm wrestling with this text again. Pray that I will love the way I have been loved.

I've been listening to Augustine's Confessions while doing yard work and exercising. It's been 8-9 years since I read the book and was blown away. The entire book is written as a prayer to God. Listening to it is a different experience.

It's listening to Augustine pray. And listening to him confess his sins, struggles, and intellectual wrestlings in this spiritual autobiography reminds me just how similar we are to our ancient brothers and sisters. As he talks to his Savior I hear what a heart in love with Jesus sounds like. And to listen to him ponder the miracle that is the human memory gives me a glimpse into the brilliant mind this man had.

For what it's worth, I think this audio book is a soul-enriching investment

What happened to Demas?

We don’t know. All we know is that some of the last words the Apostle Paul wrote before his Roman execution expressed a heartbreak: “Demas, in love with this present world, has deserted me and gone to Thessalonica” (2 Timothy 4:10).

Maybe Demas feared being executed with Paul and fled to safety. Or maybe he succumbed to immorality. Or maybe he simply caved in to the relentless temptation of a more comfortable, prosperous life in the large, cosmopolitan, pluralistic, wealthy, culturally interesting city of Thessalonica.

Whatever it was, Paul saw it as embracing the world.

But just a few sentences later in this letter to Timothy, Paul says something very hope-giving: “Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is very useful to me for ministry” (2 Timothy 4:11).

Remember Mark? He had been the first to desert the team. Back in the early days, during the first missionary trip with Paul and Barnabas, Mark took off from Pamphylia and returned home to Jerusalem (Acts 13:13).  Again, we don’t know why. But Paul didn’t approve. In fact, when Barnabas wanted to bring Mark back on the team after the Jerusalem Council, Paul would have none of it (Acts 15:37-40).

But here is Mark, at the end of Paul’s life, fully reconciled to and fully trusted by Paul and very useful in the gospel ministry.

Demas and Mark serve as contrasts. One provides a word of warning, the other a word of hope. And as people who stumble in many ways (James 3:2), we need both.

Demas began well. Four or five years earlier, during another imprisonment, Paul refers to Demas as a “fellow worker” in the gospel (Colossians 4:14, Philemon 1:24). There was a time when Demas apparently chose, like Moses, “to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin” (Hebrews 11:25).

But he doesn’t appear to end well. Having once fought alongside of Paul in kingdom battles, he seems to have sided with the enemy.

So the warning is this: “Be soberminded; be watchful. Our adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith” (1 Peter 5:8-9a). Our enemy is very real and very crafty. He threatens and seduces. And even those who start strong and are leaders, like Demas, are susceptible to his deception.

Mark, on the other hand, gives us hope. He had a weak start. He didn’t appear to have the right stuff. He disappointed his leaders and friends by leaving them to bear the heat of battle while he went home.

But Mark ended well. At some point he rejoined the battle and proved a faithful, trusted, useful warrior. And, if tradition is correct, the Lord even used him to contribute a gospel to the New Testament canon.

So the hope is this: “Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint” (Isaiah 40:30-31).

Let us then be on our guard. We live with indwelling sin that is inclined toward insanity, because it is inclined to believe lies that lead to our destruction. When we are feeling the powerful pull of worldly temptation we need to take Paul’s exhortation very seriously:

“But as for you, O man of God, flee these things. Pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, steadfastness, gentleness. Fight the good fight of faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called.” (1 Timothy 6:11-12)

Paul knew what he was talking about. He watched co-laborers fall.

But let us also remember that God is in the business of forgiving sins, reconciling stumbling sinners to himself, and restoring them to useful service. Paul knew this too.

“I thank him who has given me strength, Christ Jesus our Lord, because he judged me faithful, appointing me to his service, though formerly I was a blasphemer, persecutor, and insolent opponent. But I received mercy…” (1 Timothy 1:12-13)

We don’t know the last word on Demas. I hope that he repented in the end. But because of Mark, we know that failure doesn’t have to be the last word for us.

Rather, may our last word be “But I received mercy.” And whatever may have happened in the past, let us resolve to pursue Jesus as our treasure and seek to live lives of useful service for him from this day forth. 

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Recommended resource: “Live to Die”

Pastor Tim Smith of Mars Hill church in Seattle did a brief (7.5 minute) interview with me at a recent conference on how Desiring God got started 15 years ago.

He had the Holy One of Israel in his house, reclining at his table. The Prophet that Moses had foretold was sharing dinner with him. The Lord of glory, the Resurrection and the Life, was speaking with him face to face. The great climactic moment of history he claimed to be living for had arrived. It should have been a deliriously wonderful, breathtaking honor for Simon to host the Messiah.

But Simon was not amazed.  As he looked at Jesus, all he saw was a dusty Nazarene whose claims could be interpreted as delusional.

And Jesus’ feet were still dirty. Offering foot washing to guests had been a deeply ingrained custom for Near Eastern peoples for thousands of years. To not offer it was to dishonor one’s guest. It’s not likely that Simon simply forgot.

But Jesus showed no sign of offense. And with the meal on the table, superficial pleasantries were exchanged. A few polite questions were asked.

Suddenly all eyes facing Jesus were filled with confused concern, focused toward his feet. Jesus looked back.

A woman was standing near him, clearly not part of the household. She was looking intensely at him, cradling a small jar in her hands. She began to sob and dropped to her knees. And as her tears flowed, she leaned over and let them drop on Jesus’ soiled feet and wiped them off, along with the dirt, with her hair. Then she kissed Jesus’ feet.

Gasps and mutterings were heard around the table. This woman had a reputation known to all the local guests. It was improper even to speak openly about what had given her this reputation. She was simply called a “sinner.” Everyone knew what was packed into that word.

So everyone was mortified by this sinner’s actions, except, apparently, Jesus. He did not seem shocked. And he did nothing to stop her. An alarmed servant moved toward the woman but Simon waved him off. This was a revealing moment.

As Simon watched the woman pour fragrant oil from her jar on Jesus’ feet, he felt both contempt and pleasure. His appraisal of Jesus was being vindicated before his eyes. Nothing spoke more eloquently of the falseness of this so-called prophet than his stunning lack of discernment regarding this immoral woman. No holy man would have let her pollute him with her touch. He began to rehearse what he would report to the Council.

“Simon, I have something to say to you.” Jesus’ words snapped Simon’s attention back. “Say it, Teacher,” he replied.

“A certain moneylender had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he cancelled the debt of both. Now which of them will love him more?”

Simon answered, “The one, I suppose, for whom he cancelled the larger debt.” And he said to him, “You have judged rightly.”

Then turning toward the woman he said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.”

And then Jesus spoke to the woman: “Your sins are forgiven. Your faith has saved you; go in peace” (Luke 7:40-49).

*               *               *

“He who is forgiven little, loves little.” This small statement reveals a mammoth truth for us: we will love God to the degree that we recognize the magnitude of our sins and the immensity of God’s grace to forgive them.

As a Pharisee, Simon likely had significant theological learning, memorized extensive portions of Scripture, exercised rigorous self-discipline, tithed meticulously, spent much time “serving” God, and enjoyed a reputation as a godly man. And yet he did not love God.

The woman, however, who had nothing to offer except shameful sin, was described by Jesus as a model for true worship. Why? Simply because she knew how desperately she needed the forgiveness Jesus offered in his gospel, and she believed that he could grant it.

That is what Jesus is looking for. That is the faith that saves.

True worship is a passionate love for God. And, for sinners like us, the fuel of that love is a profound realization, in the words of former slave trader-turned-pastor, John Newton, “that I am a great sinner, and that Christ is a great Saviour.”

In June, a few of us at DG visited China in order to increase our understanding of the history and culture of this great nation and how we might more effectively meet some of the needs of the rapidly growing church there.

One of the places we visited was Shepherd’s Field Children’s Village in Tianjin. It is an amazing place, providing an openly Christian home, school, and even vocational training for well over 100 orphans, many of whom are living with disabilities. We had the privilege of spending time with some of the orphans and touring the campus.

While there we became aware of a financial need. Tim Baker, the founder and head of the ministry, showed us a construction site for a new building that will prepare orphans who have aged out of the adoption process for independence with vocational and life skills training.

But due to some construction timelines imposed on them by the authorities, construction on the building had to begin without having the funds in hand. So the Foundation is seeking to raise a significant amount by June 1, 2010, in order to complete the building.

We do not make it a practice to highlight the financial needs of other ministries, or our own, on this blog. But since few know about this project, and because of the Bible’s clear instruction about caring for orphans (James 1:27), we felt that we should make this need known.

If you would like more information or if you feel moved to help complete this vocational and therapy center, you may contact the staff at Shepherd’s Field (link fixed).

A couple years ago I shared my experience of enduring a spiritual storm, a crisis of faith. Since then I’ve had the privilege of corresponding with numerous precious saints who are enduring similar storms.

A common experience is that after the initial blast of the storm, it often takes a long time to regain a sense of spiritual equilibrium. A friend wrote me recently essentially asking me how long it will take to “get past this” to feeling normal again. I thought I would share my response to him in case others of you are finding yourselves asking, “How Long, O Lord” (Ps. 90:13)

Thank you for the update. Yes, I remember well. I would say it took me a good year from the time I experienced an initial breakthrough until I really felt my spiritual equilibrium was more “normal.” Changing metaphors, if the initial crisis was a massive earthquake, I felt aftershocks for a long time. And some were strong.

My experience is that God brings deliverance from these things gradually. Because his purpose is to strengthen faith and character. A different analogy: it is similar to endurance and strength training. It’s the adversity of the struggle that builds spiritual understanding, muscle, and endurance. And it generally takes longer and is more difficult and painful than we imagine at first.

One last analogy. Remember Frodo in The Lord of the Rings? He is stabbed with the Mordor blade of the wraith king on Weathertop. It almost kills him. But thanks to the divine healing gift of Elrond the elf lord, the evil poison is removed. However, for the rest of his life, Frodo still sometimes feels the icy pain in the scar.

It’s like that with such wounding as you and I have experienced. I still feel the icy pain occasionally in the scar. But it has become a reminder of grace and a reminder to set my hope on God and his promises. It is a reminder that I walk by faith and not sight.

I will pray for you. The Lord will not forsake you. It is he who will get you past this. Keep following Jesus who endured Gethsemane, the trial, the scourging, the cross, and death for you.

He showed you that sometimes the path of faith takes you through indescribably deep darkness. He is not asking you to endure what he has not already endured—and infinitely worse. And he showed that you can trust the Father, whose will sometimes is that you drink a cup you really wish you didn’t have to drink.

But it’s only because there is joy unspeakable and full of glory for those who do.

“No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it” (1 Cor. 10:13).

Grace be with all of you who are struggling now.

This morning I read a booklet by Michael Haykin of Southern Seminary titled, In God We Trust: What Is God Saying In The Midst Of This Financial Crisis. He provides a brief survey of historical financial crises, beginning with Paul’s collection for the Jerusalem saints up through the Great Depression and highlights the spiritual fruit that came from them.

I love how he exhorts us Christians to be radically generous in the face of financial uncertainty since it is precisely during these times when our trust in God can be most clearly seen. Here’s a quote:

In such times as these, it would be so easy and so natural to keep to ourselves what financial resources we have left. While provision needs to be made for our own families, times like these call for open hands and generosity on the part of those who call Christ, Lord. The words of… the Apostle Paul, are as germane as ever: "as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone."

The booklet can be read in 15-30 minutes and would be a helpful resource for families, congregations, Sunday schools, and small groups.

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.