Category: Devotional

The Remarkable Compassion of God

On By Jason SmithIn Devotional1 Comment

By Jason Smith

The Return of the Prodigal Son by Rembrandt van Rijn

But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him… “For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found” (Luke 15:20, 24).

Is it possible for any one of us to be too far gone from God’s perspective? Some may think so. They imagine God to be patient with people, but that eventually His patience runs out. In Christian circles, I often hear people describe certain individuals as “the hard cases” — those who seem so stubbornly resistant to God and His love that they are, we imagine, beyond hope.

I recently heard a man tell his story of Jesus rescuing him when he was at his absolute lowest point in life. He had been living on the streets, was addicted to heroin, and despised anything with a whiff of Christianity. Yet, to his astonishment, he crossed paths with a young woman who told him about the love God had for him in Jesus Christ. Many years later, in God’s marvelous timing, this man cried out to God for mercy, and God opened his heart to receive Christ. Although change in his life took time, he was immediately aware that he was a new man. Over the next few years, his life transformed dramatically. Thinking back to what God had done in his life, he said he now felt like “God’s trophy” of grace that God could show off to the world, as if to say, “Look what I can do in someone’s life.”

Relationship over Religion

When Jesus of Nazareth showed up on earth, He said some strange things. For example: “I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance” (Luke 5:32). To many, this sounded confusing. Wait, Jesus wants to hang out with those who rebel against God? I thought He only wanted to be with the morally upright?  They even nicknamed Jesus “friend of tax collectors and sinners” (Matthew 11:19). It was meant as an insult. Jesus pointed these Pharisees (admired for their obedience to the law) back to Hosea 6:6, where God says, “I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.” In other words, God was saying, “I don’t merely want your ritualistic sacrifices thoughtlessly brought to me like Baal or one of the countless other pagan gods. I want you to know Me.”

Jesus told a story to some of the religious elite in His day that captured what the heart of God is really like. These religious do-gooders imagined that they were on God’s good side. “After all,” they seemed to say, “Surely God will take into account all our moral efforts.” What they missed, however — and what I fear many who grew up in the church miss — is that God is more interested in a relationship with His children than with religious compliance.

A Lost Son

“There was a man who had two sons,” Jesus began (Luke 15:11). The younger, impetuous son had the audacity to ask his father for his share of the inheritance that was coming to him. Even today, if someone asked a parent for his inheritance early, they would be frowned upon. In ancient times, however, this would have been the equivalent to saying, “Father, I wish you were dead.” The younger son wanted his father’s stuff, but cared little for the father himself. But it is even more surprising that the father actually complied with his son’s wishes. The community would expect the father to revoke any expected inheritance and shun his son as an insolent boy.

Jesus goes on to say this foolish son travels to a “far country,” presumably so he can get away from his father and out from under all the household rules and restrictions. Now, in this land of the Gentiles, this Jewish boy was free to gratify every desire that was forbidden in his father’s house. No doubt this young man attracted many. He wore the finest robes, ate the most scrumptious meals, and had everything money could buy. This young fool squandered all his father’s hard-earned wealth on prostitutes and whatever else he craved in the moment (v. 30).

But eventually, this fool began to reap what he had sown. Just as he spent his final coin, a terrible famine afflicted the land. Therefore, Jesus says, “he began to be in need” (v. 14). The harsh realities of the fleeting satisfaction of sin, the transitory nature of wealth, and the unpredictable vagaries of life in a fallen world all came crashing down on him in a moment. In desperation, “he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed pigs” (v. 15).

Jews considered swine “unclean” (Leviticus 11:7). To be hired by a Gentile to feed such animals was just shameful. It gets worse though: “He was longing to be fed with the pods that the pigs ate, and no one gave him anything” (Luke 15:16). Here was a man at the lowest of lows. Only a short time ago, he was the envy of the neighborhood, as he spent his wealth on every thrill and entertainment imaginable. Now, he sat in his rags, wallowing in the mud like a beast, envious of filthy swine because they at least had their pig slop.

He Came to Himself

It was in that pigsty that a thought occurred to him. For a season, the young man had attempted to push away any thought of his father altogether. But now, the thought of the man he had once so brazenly scorned entered his mind. “How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread,” he mused, “but I perish here with hunger!” (v. 17).

Jesus says, “He came to himself,” finally recognizing what a fool he had been. All the so-called friends he had acquired recently came and went with his cash. None of them had even the slightest care for him now that he was nothing but a miserable worm in their eyes. The painful thought dawned on him: he had turned his back on the one man who genuinely loved him. But after such a gross display of rebellion, would his father ever take him back, this son who had so impudently slapped him across the face by wishing he was dead?

As he starts the long journey home, the young man prepares his “I’m sorry” speech, reciting in his mind: “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants” (vv. 18-19). The confession is sincere, no doubt, but from his plea we can hear the sickly strain of legalism. He calls himself “unworthy,” and he was certainly right, so far as that goes. But he imagines his only hope is for his father to graciously hire him as a slave. Perhaps he imagines he can one day pay off his grievous debt as a last-ditch effort to gain his father’s approval. It is significant that the only reason he’s willing to return home, with head hanging in shame, is his realization that the one he once called “Abba” is unlike anyone else he knows. His father is a generous man, eager to bless others.

His Father Saw Him

“And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion,” (v. 20). Oh, what precious words are these! While this pitiful son was still in the distance, perhaps before he ever saw his father, his father saw him. The father, who had been faithfully gazing at the horizon, finally saw that for which he had long hoped. But what a miserable looking fellow: dressed in rags, weak and starving frame, and covered in filth and shame. He was perhaps the most wretched and unlovely creature his father had ever seen. And yet, his father “felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him” (v. 20).

The ancient Greeks loved to show off their calves, but for a Jewish nobleman to gather up his flowing robes and race down the road in a dead sprint would have been unheard of. In fact, it would have brought him dishonor in the eyes of others. Do you see what is happening here? Whereas before the shameful sight would have been this stumbling reject returning to his home, now the father has, in a sense, traded places with his son. Because of his great love for his son, he is now the one bearing the shame. The son would return home not alone, but under the protective arm of his father.

The onlookers must have stared in amazement. Had not this pathetic fool spat in his father’s face? And now his father receives this rebel without a cause with open arms? Before the broken man can get a word out, his father is holding him against his chest and planting a kiss on his head. In fact, in the original Greek, it says, the father “kept on kissing him.” Can you imagine a more lavish display of acceptance? When was the last time you were greeted this way at a family reunion?

With quivering lips, the son tries to get out his confession and make his plea, but before he can even ask to be made a slave, the father interrupts him. “Bring quickly the best robe,” he commands the nearest servant, “and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet” (v. 22). The robe, the ring, and the shoes all symbolize one thing: this young man is the master’s son, not slave.

Though tears no doubt fill the father’s eyes, he loudly proclaims a feast will be held in his son’s honor. This is no time to mourn. It is time to celebrate! “For this my son was dead, and is alive again! He was lost, and is found!” As the New Living Translation puts it: “So the party began” (v. 24).

Our Compassionate Father

What follows at the end of this grand story that Jesus tells is actually the most disturbing. The elder brother, who is working out in the fields (as always), learns of his brother’s return and, rather than rejoicing, he responds with smug self-righteousness. How dare this foolish sinner show his face around here again!

The father, in yet another display of compassion and grace, goes out to the field and pleads for his elder son to come home. But, with curled lip, the elder son replies, “Look, these many years I have served you [literally, “slaved for you”], and I never disobeyed your command, yet you never gave me a young goat, that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him!” (vv. 29-30). The elder son’s bitter tone betrays his failure to ever really love his father. He sees all his acts of obedience as joyless slavery. He wanted to celebrate with “friends,” but never to delight in the father himself.

The tragedy is that although this elder son stayed home, he was just as lost as the younger son once was. The father tells him, “All that is mine is yours.” In other words, if you had only asked to delight in what is mine, I would have gladly celebrated with you. The younger son, though a wretched sinner, had returned to the arms of his father, recognizing the generosity of this old man. “It was fitting to celebrate and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found” (15:32).

Jesus told this parable so that we would have a renewed understanding of God. Norval Geldenhuys has rightly said, “So inexplicably wonderful is the love of God that He not merely forgives the repentant sinner, but actually goes to meet him and embraces him in His love and grace.”[1] No matter how long a sinner has lived in staunch rebellion, God is always eager to welcome him or her home. He runs out to meet the one hanging their head in shame. How vital it is to remember that all we have is by sheer grace, and when yet one more prodigal son finds grace in the arms of our compassionate Father, it is only right that we should celebrate.

[1] Norval Geldenhuys, The Gospel of Luke, New International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1951), 408.

The Holy Mystery of Christmas

On By Jason SmithIn Devotional1 Comment

By Jason Smith

Worship_Advent-Wreath4_2015

“He made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death— even death on a cross! Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Philippians 2:7-11, NIV)

I was reading from one of my heroes, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, recently. Bonhoeffer was a German Lutheran pastor who took a stand against Nazism’s cruelty during the Third Reich’s reign of terror. In one of his Christmas sermons, he reminded his listeners to contemplate the “holy mystery” of Christmas. Rather than trying to “figure out” how God could become a human or domesticating Christmas to a quaint little Nativity scene, complete with a smiling baby Jesus and cute little barn animals looking on, he said we ought to be filled with wonder during this season.

Bonhoeffer reminds us that Christmas is about God entering this world and being rejected even at the birth of Christ. Our Lord was placed in a manger — a feeding trough — not because it matched the décor of His nursery back home in Nazareth, but because no one was willing to give up their bed for Him or even His very pregnant mother.

In Matthew’s account, we read of the sinister King Herod who, upon learning of Jesus’s birth, immediately sought to destroy Him. An entire town suffered the loss of their male babies, simply because a jealous king thought he could undo the saving plan of God. Like Hitler in Bonhoeffer’s day, Herod was willing to slaughter the weak, underprivileged, and oppressed in order to assert his power over others. Sure, the biblical portrait of our Lord’s arrival puts less emphasis on having a “holly jolly Christmas,” but doesn’t Scripture give us a much more realistic portrait of our problem, and therefore what we truly need? In fact, the Bible offers a picture of hope that our world is desperate for today.

Holy Scripture tells us just what was happening that first Christmas so long ago: “The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world” (John 1:9). That is one reason our family hangs Christmas lights and lights candles every year. Those tiny lights serve as a reminder that on that cold night long ago, the true Light was coming into this world, piercing the darkness. This thought is staggering. Into a world being ripped apart by hatred, selfishness, racism, oppression, and greed, Jesus came. “And that is the wonder of all wonders,” Bonhoeffer writes, “that God loves the lowly … God is not ashamed of the lowliness of human beings. God marches right in.”[1]

The Gospel of John continues, “He was in the world, and the world was made through Him, yet the world did not know Him. He came to His own, and His own people did not receive Him” (John 1:10-11). This is not so much an indictment on the Jewish people as it is on the entire human race. We all need to own up to our disregard of God in our lives. Even those who cherish Jesus as their precious Savior and Lord today didn’t always do so. And still today most of the world rejects Jesus for who He truly is: the Son of God and Savior of the lowly.

Despite the hostility this world had toward Him, Jesus still came. He knew the cost of sharing in our humanity and experiencing the consequences of our brokenness. He knew that loving us to the end would mean dying a sacrificial death in our place. And yet, Jesus still came. But why did He come? Why go through all the trouble of living in this distressed and hurting world?

This brings us to the great hope of the gospel. John says, “But to all who did receive Him, who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God” (John 1:12-13). God came as a little baby, but He did not stay a baby. Jesus grew to full manhood, loving both God and neighbor each step of the way. All the way, in fact, to the cross.

The holy mystery of Christmas is that despite all the reasons He could have left us to ourselves, Jesus still came, in obedience to His heavenly Father’s will. And because He was the obedient Son, we who have “believed in His name” are granted the overwhelming privilege of becoming children of God Most High. This is where the true joy and peace of Christmas is found. Stop and wonder at the mystery of it all this Advent season.

[1] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, God Is in the Manger, trans. Jana Riess (Louisville, KT: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 23.

Love Must Be Genuine

On By Jason SmithIn DevotionalLeave a comment

By Jason Smith

“Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good” (Romans 12:9).

five-friends-smiling-Petar Chernaev

“In my experience, the church has done more harm than good,” the young man told me. The words sounded a bit calloused and unmeasured at the time. In response, I began pointing out all the good the church has done over the last 2,000 years. I asked him if he knew how the first hospital came to be. He said he did not.

I told him about how leprosy (often called Hansen ’s disease today) was a common malady during the first several centuries of the church. Since leprosy is contagious and there was no known cure at the time, lepers were banned from society and restricted to camps where they languished in isolation, cut off from basic provisions and medical care. A leprous person was labeled “unclean,” and therefore, unwanted. During the fourth century, a church father named Basil of Caesarea felt compelled to do something about this. Although he feared contracting leprosy, he saw the way the Jesus of the Gospels treated lepers. He loved and accepted them. In a world that deemed every leper unclean and untouchable, Jesus was willing to do the unthinkable.

“A leper came to Him and knelt before Him, saying, ‘Lord, if You will, You can make me clean.’ And Jesus stretched out His hand and touched him, saying, ‘I will; be clean.’ And immediately his leprosy was cleansed” (Matthew 8:2-3).

After pondering this account, a light bulb went on in Basil’s head. “What if we build a place to love and care for lepers? They don’t have money. They don’t even have to pay for it. We’ll raise the money.”[1] This idea led to the founding of the very first hospital.

After sharing this story, I studied the young man’s reaction. I hoped for at least a flicker of a changed opinion regarding the church. Instead, he shrugged and, with a curt smile, said, “That’s cool that that guy did that, but that doesn’t change my experience.” He had a point. Despite all the incredible acts of kindness and love the church has done throughout history, this really had no bearing on this young man’s experience with the church.

The reality is that the church is filled with imperfect people. It was in Basil’s day, and it is today. This interaction reminded me just how painful and destructive hypocrisy in the church can be. Hurtful experiences in one particular church have led not a few to walk away from the church altogether. It’s a tragic thing, but it reminds me just how essential it is for followers of Christ to never rest on our laurels but to live out His love in each generation. Hypocrisy is something we must persistently guard against in our own hearts.

The thorny weed of hypocrisy often grows out of the soil of a heart that has not been regularly tilled by the gospel. The gospel is a message of sheer grace, reminding us that even while we were weak, sinful, and undeserving, God chose to love us and sent Jesus to die in our place — not because there was something good in us, but in spite of the fact that there was not (Romans 5:6-8).

Hypocrisy often has its roots in legalistic tendencies that focus on outward appearance rather than a transformed heart. When looking good in front of others begins to internally outweigh the importance of loving others, the ugly seed of hypocrisy is sure to germinate. And much like leprosy, hypocrisy can spread rapidly when it begins to infect a community. It can begin with subtle inconsistencies, which in time breed a self-satisfied religiosity that ultimately forgets what it means to be a follower of Jesus.

Basil of Caesarea reminds us that to be Christ’s church is to be called to a life consistent with Christ’s teaching and example. Jesus calls His followers to genuinely love not merely those who look, talk, and vote like us, but even our enemies (Matthew 5:44).

Jesus clearly identifies with the church (Acts 9:1-5), and we are called His ambassadors (2 Corinthians 5:20). Therefore, we should listen closely to Jesus’s opinion of hypocrisy. Although we often think of Jesus as gentle and mild, tenderly holding a little lamb in His arms, this is far from the complete picture. In fact, it is fair to say that almost nothing in the Gospels draws Jesus’s righteous ire like religious hypocrisy and self-satisfied legalism.

“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs which on the outside appear beautiful, but inside they are full of dead men’s bones and all uncleanness. So you, too, outwardly appear righteous to men, but inwardly you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness” (Matthew 23:27-28).

That’s not a passage you typically see printed on the side of a mug sold at a Christian bookstore. Nevertheless, they are the words of Jesus. At the same time, Jesus showed astonishing love toward self-righteous hypocrites (Mark 10:21). Therefore, those who claim to follow and represent Him in this generation must commit to love the Other genuinely, ensuring that the words of our lips and the actions of our hands align with the will of our Lord.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, help me learn to live out what it means to genuinely love others — especially those most unlike me — in the same manner You do (Romans 12:9).

 

Photo Credit: Petar Chernaev

[1] John Ortberg, Who Is This Man? (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2012), 39.

Eyes to See the Hurting

On By Jason SmithIn DevotionalLeave a comment

By Jason Smith

“Whoever oppresses a poor man insults his Maker, but he who is generous to the needy honors him” (Proverbs 14:31).

Sad Man (Cameron Cretney)

We’ve all been there. We pull up to the intersection and notice a man or woman on the corner holding a cardboard sign telling you of their distressing situation in life. A backpack or a dog can often be seen next to them. The temptation for us — for myself at least — is to look the other way. To pretend not to notice. Maybe we feel awkward, not knowing what to give or what to say. But if we are honest with ourselves, it can often be that we don’t want to notice them.

Here’s a radical thought: God always notices them. He takes note of their situation. God sees the homeless person, the hurting person, and the hungry person as just that: a full-fledged person. According to the Bible, every single human on the planet bears the image of God and therefore has inestimable value (Genesis 1:26-27). You can’t calculate the worth of someone who is made to know and reflect the God of infinite worth.

At the beginning of Acts 3, we read an interesting account about two of Jesus’s disciples encountering a beggar at the entrance of the temple. Most people passing by probably ignored the man, eager to get inside the temple — the place where one could really show one’s devotion to God. A lot could be said about the temple. However, it is worth noting the fascinating connection that Luke, the author of Acts, makes here. Like a master storyteller, Luke pulls several different plotlines together to show that what happens in this scene perfectly fits with God’s wise plan from eternity.

In the first chapter of Acts, Jesus’s final charge to His followers before His ascension into the clouds is to wait for the Holy Spirit (Acts 1:5, 8). The Holy Spirit’s arrival meant that God’s very power and presence would “come upon” them — not in the flash of a mere moment but permanently. In this way, God’s people would be empowered to rightly represent God’s character and share God’s message of how to be reconciled to Him. In Acts 2, several Jesus followers gather in one house, as if waiting expectantly for God’s next move. The Holy Spirit does indeed arrive with the blast of a localized hurricane and, oddly, with little tongues of fire hovering over each person’s head. Without any context, this would look pretty bizarre — like something out of a Harry Potter novel. And yet, we must remind ourselves, God always has His reasons.

In the Old Testament, fire often indicated the presence of God (Exodus 3:1-5; 19:18; 24:17). When the children of Israel streamed out of Egypt in the exodus, a pillar of fire led them by night, signaling God’s presence with His people. After the tabernacle in the desert was built, the same pillar of fire hovered above it, reminding the people daily of their Creator’s nearness and desire to dwell with mere mortals (Exodus 40:38). Years later, when the temple is built in Jerusalem, once again fire shows up, visibly manifesting the presence of an invisible God (2 Chronicles 7:1). With Acts 2 and the arrival of the Holy Spirit, Luke highlights the same truth: God has come near. However, now He is not just dwelling with but in His people. In other words, the people of God are the new tabernacles and temples.

Fast forward to Acts 3, and we find Peter and John, now indwelled by the Holy Spirit, heading toward the temple. They are on their way to church, yet they don’t let their piety obscure their view of the lame beggar. Luke writes, “Seeing Peter and John about to go into the temple, he asked to receive alms. And Peter directed his gaze at him, as did John, and said, ‘Look at us’” (Acts 3:3-4). The beggar makes himself visible, and Peter does not look the other way. In fact, he looks him square in the eyes and tells the beggar, “Look at us.” This man who had been “lame from birth” needed to see that he was seen (v. 2). Throughout his life, this man had probably gotten used to being overlooked. In all those years of being carried around everywhere, perhaps he’d decided he was more a burden than a blessing to others. Nevertheless, with eyes locked on the man, Peter tells him, “Look at us. We notice you.” And more importantly, by implication, God notices you.

Peter and John, now filled with God’s presence and love, had eyes to see this man in a new and supernatural way. Rather than barring this man from the temple, the place where God’s glory traditionally dwelled, Peter and John drew near, letting him know God was present outside the temple too. No longer was he seen as just a drain on society, or even someone to pity but not value. Peter noticed the man and offered him not money — he had none — but healing “in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth” (v. 6). In short order, the man began “walking and leaping and praising God” (v. 8). Perhaps with a tear of joy trickling down his face, this grown man bounded around like a kid in a candy store for the very first time. More than “silver and gold,” which do not last, what this man most needed was the touch of God. The miraculous healing offered Peter the rapt attention of the stupefied onlookers. So he seized the opportunity to point them to God’s compassionate character seen in the cross and resurrection of Jesus (vv. 12-26).

When we have eyes to see the hurting around us each day, who knows what might happen? Rather than offering a prescription detailing how to love each hurting person you encounter, I simply want to point out from Acts 3 the importance God places on seeing the hurting person in the first place. I suspect that God will lead you from there to love that person after the pattern of Jesus.

Prayer: Father God, please open my eyes to see the hurting person as You see them. Remind me that when I honor the poor I am honoring You (Proverbs 14:31).

Photo credit: Cameron Cretney

Where Intimacy with God Is Forged

On By Jason SmithIn DevotionalLeave a comment

By Jason Smith

“Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path” (Psalm 119:105).

Columbia Gorge

This last weekend, I stood atop Mount Defiance, a peak that overlooks the Columbia River Gorge. The view was breathtaking. Across the hills, pine forests comingled with the orange, yellow, and red of leaf-bearing trees turning their autumn hue. The broad river below shimmered under the bright sun that shone alone in the blue vault above. To the north stood the majestic peaks of Mount Rainier, Mount Adams, and Mount St. Helens. To the south, Mount Hood towered over the surrounding landscape. It was beautiful, and I thanked God for His work of art. One might wonder what could possibly move the heart to worship the Creator like such an experience outdoors. Psalm 119 provides an answer.

Psalm 119 is something of a love poem written about God’s Word, the Bible. We read statements like: “Oh how I love your law! It is my meditation all the day” (v. 97). It gives us a sense of just how central Bible reading must be for the man or woman who desires to walk hand-in-hand with God on the journey of life. There is a powerful lesson here for the committed follower of Jesus. Our relationship with God is not primarily strengthened through nature hikes, where the grandeur of God’s creative power is on full display, or through reading the great works of clear-thinking theologians. It’s certainly true that staggering views of creation can ignite a sense of awe and worship that is God-directed. Similarly, soul-thrilling treasures can be mined from the writings of Augustine, Edwards, Spurgeon, and many more. And yet, above and beyond these, God has made it clear that it is the Bible alone that should occupy the central place in the believer’s relationship with God.

It is through reading Scripture that true intimacy with God is forged. It is God’s Word that moves our hearts to bring bold requests to our Maker in prayer. It is through studying the Bible that we are guided, not by vague notions of what a good God might want, but by clear enunciations of His will for every believer (1 Thessalonians 4:1-8; 5:18; 1 Peter 2:25). It is the Bible — not creation — that tells us how we come into a relationship with God (2 Timothy 3:15). Every follower of Christ should reflect the attitude of the psalter in Psalm 119:35-40:

“Lead me in the path of your commandments, for I delight in it.

Incline my heart to your testimonies, and not to selfish gain!

Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things; and give me life in your ways.

Confirm to your servant your promise, that you may be feared.

Turn away the reproach that I dread, for your rules are good.

Behold, I long for your precepts; in your righteousness give me life!”

From this passage, we learn that the Lord’s commandments are not burdensome; they are “good” (v. 39). In fact, they are a source of “delight” (v. 35). The implication of verses 36-38 is that when Scripture is not central to our lives and constantly redirecting our thoughts, we are prone to selfishness (v. 36), to “looking at worthless things” (v. 37), and to ignoring rather than fearing the God for whom we are made (v. 38). The words of Scripture are the words of life — apart from which we have no hope. Your Creator authored them, and they are intended for your good. As Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:68).

Prayer: Father God, I often feel the pull of temptation to all kinds of worthless pursuits. Please redirect my thoughts and attitudes by Your mighty Word. Like the psalter, fill me with an unhindered longing for the Spirit-inspired Word of God (Psalm 119:40)!

 

Photo credit: Marilee Janzen