April 1: Moving On
Deuteronomy 1:1–46; 2 Corinthians 1:1–11; Psalm 31:1–9
“You have stayed long enough at this mountain. Turn now and move on” (Deut 1:6–7).
We have a terrible tendency to stay in one place or keep doing one activity longer than we should. Our meetings run long, we constantly work overtime, or we overstay a welcome. And then there’s the most significant problem of all: we ignore God’s command to leave a place, position, or role.
Change can be refreshing. But the countless decisions and the difficult and frustrating moments that accompany change can often keep us from moving forward. We become comfortable where we are, and we fear the unknown.
Indeed, the majority of people (including Christians) live seemingly meaningless lives. Most American Christians spend more hours per day doing comfortable things, like watching tv, than they do praying, reading their Bibles, or serving others (usually combined). Yet what do the elderly always tell us? “I wish I had taken more risks; if only I wasn’t so afraid.” We’re all on our way to dying. But as Christians, we’re also on our way to eternal life. Why should we limit God’s work with our fear?
In Deuteronomy 1, God called Moses to leave the mountain—a place where he’d grown comfortable. Moses’ new path would be far from easy. He was going to enter the land of the Amorites and Canaanites, who were feared warriors (Deut 1:7). He was about to risk the lives of everyone with him—men, women, and children—in the process of following God’s will. Both young and old would once again be in danger.
But God didn’t intend for Moses to remain in the wilderness; He called Moses to lead His people into the same holy land He had promised to Abraham many years before (Deut 1:8). And despite his fear, that’s what Moses did: “Then we turned and set out toward the wilderness in the direction of the Red Sea, as Yahweh told me, and we went around Mount Seir for many days” (Deut 2:1).
Moses’ confidence was based on one thing: what God had spoken. May your confidence be grounded in the same thing, and may you trust God at His word.
What is God calling you to do now? What comforts is He calling you to leave behind? What have you been ignoring?
John D. Barry
April 2: The Final Say
Deuteronomy 2:1–3:29; 2 Corinthians 1:12–16; Psalm 31:10–24
Having the final say in an argument is more satisfying than I’d like to admit. By default, I’d like to be right, even if I have to be pedantic. I wish I could say this was limited to petty concerns. But on more than one occasion, when discussing issues of eternal significance, I’ve used my trump card in a desire to win an argument.
Paul specifically addresses this type of pride and boasting throughout 2 Corinthians. However, we come across a surprising statement in 2 Corinthians 1: “For our reason for boasting is this: the testimony of our conscience that we conducted ourselves in the world, and especially toward you, in holiness and purity of motive from God, not in merely human wisdom, but by the grace of God” (2 Cor 1:12).
At first glance, Paul appears to be boasting in his own actions. Isn’t this evidence of the very same pride he denounces (1 Cor 5:6)?
But the key phrases, “holiness and purity of motive from God” and “the grace of God,” provide a foundation for Paul’s boasting. They tell us that it’s not Paul’s pride that is on the line—it’s the good news. Paul is claiming that the integrity of his ministry doesn’t rest on his own wisdom.
Paul wasn’t trying to be a star pastor. His words were motivated by a deep concern for the Corinthians. He didn’t want anything he did to obstruct the message about Christ. Similarly, our actions shouldn’t be an obstruction to the gospel message. We should examine our motives when we’re inclined to be “right.” Our words and actions should reflect God’s grace in our life—evidenced by humility and a sense of purpose in our interactions with others.
How are your words and actions speaking about your own pride? How can you be testifying about God’s grace in your life?
Rebecca Van Noord
April 3: Your Inner Self
Deuteronomy 4:1–49; 2 Corinthians 1:17–24; Psalm 32:1–11
“Did I leave the burner on?” “Did I lock the door?” “I feel like I’m forgetting something.”
Forgetfulness is a syndrome we all experience at one time or another. Many of our forgetful moments end up being minor inconveniences. But there is one thing we should never forget: God and His instructions.
As the Israelites prepared to enter the promised land, Moses offered them a string of commandments, including this: “Take care for yourself and watch your inner self closely, so that you do not forget the things that your eyes have seen, so that they do not slip from your mind all the days of your life” (Deut 4:9).
In watching ourselves closely, we remember what we’re meant to do and who we’re meant to be. And this isn’t just a value added to our lives and our relationship with God. Moses went on: “And you shall make [the commandments] known to your children and to your grandchildren” (Deut 4:9).
Moses knew that God had chosen the Israelites to carry out His work in the world. He also knew that forgetting God’s commandments could jeopardize that work and even their very lives. He tells them to be certain about who they are—to keep themselves in line with God.
It’s precisely this point that Paul emphasizes about God’s plan in 2 Cor 1:17–24: God is about the resounding “yes.” Yes, God has affirmed us. Yes, God has chosen us. Yes, we are the receivers of His salvation. We are called—not some of us, but all of us.
And in this we should rejoice, for we can claim, as the psalmist does, “I will confess concerning my transgressions to Yahweh, and you [Yahweh] took away the guilt of my sin” (Psa 32:5).
The best way to make your “yes” be a yes and your “no” be a no is to align yourself with God’s great calling upon your life. Commandments only get us so far; identity in Christ and the Spirit’s work in us will take us where we need to go.
What can you do to constantly remind yourself of God’s will, your identity in Him, and His work in your life?
John D. Barry
April 4: Forgive, Forget, and Comfort
Deuteronomy 5:1–6:25; 2 Corinthians 2:1–11; Psalm 33
There is a subtle type of grudge that festers. When we extend forgiveness, the challenge isn’t necessarily in the moment of reconciliation. It’s extending that moment and letting it permeate the interactions that follow.
In 2 Corinthians, Paul doesn’t just ask the Corinthians to forgive. He asks them for much more: “So then, you should rather forgive and comfort him lest somehow this person should be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow. Therefore I urge you to confirm your love for him. Because for this reason, also I wrote, in order that I could know your proven character, whether you are obedient in everything” (2 Cor 2:7–9).
Patronizing superiority suits our selfish desires, but grudging forgiveness doesn’t heal a community. Paul calls the Corinthian church to much more. He wants them to live sacrificially. That’s why, when Paul calls for the offender in Corinth to be reprimanded, he specifically turns to address those who were affected by the sin. The solution was intentional, ongoing forgiveness and an outpouring of love. He then reminded the Corinthians of Christ’s sacrifice, which they didn’t deserve (see Col 3:13). Forgiveness is undeserved—a reminder we all need.
Are you holding on to a grudge against someone—perhaps even someone you’ve already forgiven? How can you let go of your grudge and extend the love that has been shown to you?
Rebecca Van Noord
April 5: Treating the Symptom
Deuteronomy 7:1–8:20; 2 Corinthians 2:12–17; Psalm 34:1–22
I regularly predict that something will only take me an hour when it actually ends up taking two. I’m beginning to think that this is a sign of a larger issue: the tendency to underestimate the severity of a problem. In medical offices, this is called treating the symptoms and not the disease. In street ministry, it’s known as getting addicts off the street rather than helping them understand their addiction.
Addicts rationalize sin. And eventually, sin becomes everything in their lives, which means they rationalize away who they are. If we’re all honest with ourselves, we would see that, like the addict, we like the “gray” area far too much. We want to push the boundaries in the name of freedom, rationality, or cultural appeal.
In Deuteronomy 7:1–8:20, Moses was uninterested in pushing boundaries. He even told the Israelites to stay away from foreigners who worshiped other gods because they would corrupt the fledgling worship of Yahweh (Deut 7:3–4). Paul makes a similar point in 2 Cor 6:14: “Do not become unevenly yoked with unbelievers, for what participation is there between righteousness and lawlessness? Or what fellowship does light have with darkness?” Paul’s statement is part of a larger discussion on why the world is as black and white as God makes it out to be. In 2 Corinthians 2:15, Paul writes, “For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing.”
Christ-followers are meant to be a good smell to the world of God’s work and goodness, and it’s impossible for them to do this if they are not living in His “light.” Corruption infects everyone affiliated with it. We are meant to bring the light into the darkness, not become part of the darkness. Interacting with culture and those who don’t believe is not the same as becoming one with culture and those who don’t believe.
When we see a symptom, we need to recognize there is a disease behind it. We’re all metaphorical addicts. The difference between Christ-followers and the rest is that we recognize the condition and seek Christ, who can heal us and save us.
In what ways are you rationalizing your sin or problems? What can you do to understand it the way God would like you to, and what can you do about it?
John D. Barry
April 6: A Letter of Recommendation
Deuteronomy 9:1–10:22; 2 Corinthians 3:1–8; Psalm 35:1–11
We file letters of recommendation from pastors, past supervisors, and teachers that highlight our skills, attitude, and work ethic. They present us as ideal candidates, glossing over the things we lack and the ways in which we’ve failed. But Paul’s letter of recommendation tells another story:
“You are our letter, inscribed on our hearts, known and read by all people, revealing that you are a letter of Christ, delivered by us, inscribed not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on stone tablets but on tablets of human hearts” (2 Cor 3:2–3).
Paul saw the work God was doing in the lives of the Corinthians. Through the work of the Spirit, they were drawn together as a community. Their response to the gospel testified that Paul was fulfilling the task that he was called to do.
But Paul doesn’t stay focused on himself in this passage. He switches the focus to the Spirit: “Now we possess such confidence through Christ toward God. Not that we are adequate in ourselves to consider anything as from ourselves, but our adequacy is from God” (2 Cor 3:4–5). Ultimately, Paul’s confidence finds itself in Christ’s work and the life-giving work of the Spirit.
Our successes and failures are put into a proper context when we read Paul’s message. All the good we do attests to the Spirit’s work in our lives; it is a testimony of a life redeemed by Christ. And the bad isn’t glossed over by God—it is paid for. It’s His letter of recommendation that really matters, for He knows who we really are.
How are you living a life that attests to God’s power in you, not your own qualities or traits?
Rebecca Van Noord
April 7: An Irrational Life
Deuteronomy 11:1–12:28; 2 Corinthians 3:9–18; Psalm 35:12–28
Love is irrational. It requires doing things that compromise every survival instinct.
Moses tells God’s people to have a memory of what God has done among them and to love Him as a result: “And you shall love Yahweh your God, and you shall keep his obligations and his statutes and his regulations and his commandments always. And you shall realize today that it is not with your children who have not known and who have not seen the discipline of Yahweh your God, his greatness, his strong hand, and his outstretched arm” (Deut 11:1–2).
The Bible doesn’t say, “Keep Yahweh’s commandments when you feel like you love Him,” or “Keep Yahweh’s commandments when things are going your way.” It says, “You shall keep [Yahweh’s] … commandments always.” God’s greatest commandments are about loving Him and others (Mark 12:28–31; compare John 15:12).
We love God and keep His commandments because He first loved us; we remember what He has done whenever things get difficult. And we teach it to the next generation. That’s what God has called us to.
When we sacrifice ourselves for others, we are doing what God was willing to do for us when He came as a man to die on a cross. Similarly, when we love Yahweh by doing His will, we often make decisions that seem irrational. But in actuality, they are the most rational of all decisions.
The Spirit’s work within us prompts us to love, and it also opens the Scriptures for us. As Paul says, “But until today, whenever Moses is read aloud, a veil lies upon their heart, but whenever one turns to the Lord, the veil is removed.… And we all, with unveiled face, reflecting the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image … glory, just as from the Lord, the Spirit” (2 Cor 3:15–18).
Yahweh has lifted the veil from Scripture and reveals His glory in the love He manifests among us through His Spirit. Living sacrificially, out of love, richly displays His love.
Which of God’s commands are you breaking? What can you do to change that behavior and show more love?
John D. Barry
April 8: Compelled to Worship
Deuteronomy 12:29–14:29; 2 Corinthians 4:1–6; Psalm 36
When we experience God’s mercy, it shows. Our instincts change and our priorities shift from gratifying our own ego to making much of God. We stop fearing what others think of us and find our identity grounded in Christ. It’s a transformation that shows God is working in our lives. Paul recognized the transformative power of the gospel, and it drove his ministry. This is evidenced in his second letter to the Corinthian church:
“Just as we have been shown mercy, we do not lose heart, but we have renounced shameful hidden things, not behaving with craftiness or adulterating the word of God, but with the open proclamation of the truth commending ourselves to every person’s conscience before God” (2 Cor 4:1–2).
Paul wasn’t manipulating or distorting the good news for his own gain, as some were doing in the community. He preached the good news to all people with openness and sincerity. He allowed the gospel to convict people as it should, refusing to distort it to make people comfortable. He proclaimed “Christ Jesus as Lord” and he and his disciples as “slaves for the sake of Jesus” to those in Corinth (2 Cor 4:5). Bound to Christ, they lived as free slaves for His cause. They were solely dedicated to Jesus because they wanted to be, and because of the salvation He had brought them.
Psalm 36 provides an illustration of Paul’s approach, highlighting the qualities of those who don’t fear God. This person is characterized by “rebellion in the midst of his heart” (Psa 36:1). He is self-absorbed and rejects his need: “he flatters himself in his eyes, hating to detect his iniquity” (Psa 36:2). He is deceitful (Psa 36:3).
The psalmist doesn’t contrast this picture with one of the righteous man. Instead, he honors Yahweh—His loyal love, faithfulness, righteousness, and judgments (Psa 36:5–6). The psalmist says, “For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light” (Psa 36:9). Paul echoes “For God … is the one who has shined in our hearts for the enlightenment of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ” (2 Cor 4:6). God’s grace puts everything in perspective. Both passages help us assess with wisdom the message and posture of those who teach. They also challenge us to take a look at our own standing before God.
Take an honest look at what motivates you. Are you transformed by the good news? Is it apparent to others around you?
Rebecca Van Noord
April 9: The Global Reset Button
Deuteronomy 15:1–17:20; 2 Corinthians 4:7–18; Psalm 37:1–22
When I was a kid, I loved playing Super Nintendo—especially Donkey Kong. Despite my love for it, it would just make me angry at times. When I couldn’t handle the way the game was panning out, I would slam down the controller and hit the reset button. I would start fresh. It’s more than a little sad that my entertainment made me act like a caveman. Yet those moments of resetting the entire system felt like another chance at life (albeit a virtual one).
With the state of the global economy, it often feels like the world needs a reset. It’s tempting to say something as radical as, “Let’s forgive all debts and start again.” Though this couldn’t happen—and it would be highly problematic since the statement depends on good will, free economy, and general care for one another—it doesn’t stop us from hoping.
God actually created a system for this audacious idea: in the Year of Jubilee, or the Sabbatical Year, slaves were freed and debts were forgiven (Deut 15), people were celebrated as equals (Deut 16), and the land was given a rest to prevent famine. (Famine was often caused by overworking the land.) It was a reset button.
The global economy is complex. I’m not suggesting that it’s time for a Year of Jubilee, but maybe it is time for an economic evaluation of our lives. Who is God calling you to forgive? Whose life could be better if you lifted their debts? Who needs your generosity right now? Who could you make an equal by changing something about your work or friendship? How can you celebrate with those who feel like lesser people in this world?
The economy proves the point that we are all interdependent. It also makes the case that doing something for those at the bottom of the economic ladder can have a massive impact—not just on them, but on others. Those that are forgiven are likely to forgive.
Whose life can you make better today? Who can you bring jubilee (celebration) to?
John D. Barry
April 10: Tent Making for Eternity
Deuteronomy 18:1–20:20; 2 Corinthians 5:1–10; Psalm 37:23–40
Paul, the tent maker, knew the temporal nature of human-made structures. For someone who made and probably repaired tents, he knew all their flaws and tendencies for wear. So it’s not a stretch for him to draw the connection from tents to mortality:
“For we know that if our earthly house, the tent, is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made by hands, eternal in the heavens” (2 Cor 5:1).
Paul is also making a connection to the tabernacle, the tent where the Israelites first regularly experienced God. Like the tents that Paul made, these earthly homes for God would eventually break down and be destroyed. But the Spirit and the heavens, where God actually dwelled, would live on. While temporal tent worship would fall apart, eternal worship in God’s heavenly “building” will remain.
Paul contrasts the art of tent-making and the beautiful worship places of Yahweh with God’s work (what He actually made), which was incorruptible. Right now, we have a “building from God” waiting for us—eternity made possible by the sacrifice of Christ.
He stresses that our eternal reality transforms our “meantime.” It clarifies what “we have as our ambition, whether at home in the body or absent from the body, to be acceptable to him” (2 Cor 5:9). While waiting, we don’t have to live with longing. We don’t need to escape. We can live for Him, spreading the news that the kingdom of God is at hand. Until then, God has given us someone who comforts us: the Holy Spirit (John 17). He reminds us of our eternal confidence and empowers us to live for God.
How would your perspective change if you looked at your daily tasks in light of eternal significance?
Rebecca Van Noord
April 11: Curses, the Old Testament, and Freedom
Deuteronomy 21:1–22:30; 2 Corinthians 5:11–21; Psalm 38:1–22
“And if a man commits a sin punishable by death, and so he is put to and you hang him on a tree, his dead body shall not hang on the tree, but certainly you shall bury him on that day, for cursed by God is one that is being hung” (Deut 21:22–23).
Being hung on a tree was a sign of being cursed. Romans 5:12 tells us that the punishment of sin is death; we as sinners deserve that curse. If Christ wasn’t cursed for us by being hung on a tree (the cross), then we would still have a debt to pay and a curse to live under.
It can be difficult to find significance in the ot, especially in passages that are as harsh as this one. But the ot still holds meaning for us today, and that meaning often reveals our human and individual state.
The same is true for those odd laws about crimes and marrying foreigners (Deut 21:1–14). It’s not that we’re supposed to practice these laws; they were intended for a land and a place. But we are meant to use them to understand God’s conceptual framework. God always opposes taking a life. Similarly, marrying someone who doesn’t share your belief in Christ (the equivalent of an Israelite marrying a foreigner) will be detrimental to God’s work: that person will lead you astray. The law may not be in force anymore, but God’s framework for interpreting the moral values in the world remains the same.
There isn’t always a clear connection between the ot laws and our lives today since the contextual framework is often quite complex. But there is always an easy relationship between our actions and what Christ has done for us. We are free from the ot laws and the curse we deserve, but that freedom is meant to prompt us to live like Christ—not for ourselves (see Rom 7). We are called to live as free people should live. We are called to live for God’s kingdom.
What moral values are you learning from the ot? In what ways are you currently misusing the freedom that Christ has given you?
John D. Barry
April 12: Costly Grace
Deuteronomy 23:1–25:19; 2 Corinthians 6:1–13; Psalm 39
When we say something hurtful to a friend or a family member, we know we can’t just ignore the harm we have caused (we should know, anyway). In order to repair the relationship and earn back trust, we have to acknowledge the rift we’ve created. But when it comes to our relationship with God, we don’t always look at it the same way. Sometimes, consciously or unconsciously, we belittle the incredible love that He has shown us.
When we don’t acknowledge our sin as an act of rebellion, we feel far from God. We’ve created this great divide because we’ve tarnished our relationship with Him. In Psalm 39, the psalmist is in great agony over his sin—to the point where he acknowledges that people are nothing and his life is vanity: “Surely a man walks about as a mere shadow” (Psa 39:6).
Without God, life is meaningless. The psalmist acknowledges that his transgression has done great harm. He turns to God and says: “And now, O Lord, for what do I wait?” (Psa 39:7). At the heart of that cry is a need for redemption from a God that answers. He provided a way of salvation—one that was incredibly costly through Christ. In 2 Corinthians, Paul stresses the importance of not taking this great gift for granted: “Now because we are fellow workers, we also urge you not to receive the grace of God in vain.… Behold, now is the acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation!” (2 Cor 6:1–2).
Paul’s call is urgent because Jesus’ coming to earth wasn’t a small gesture. It was incredible. If we aren’t amazed at it, if we scorn it (even by accident), we may miss out. We have a greater hope than the psalmist was ever able to realize; his broken cry would not be fully answered for centuries. So today, when you hear God’s call, don’t respond with silence. Respond with a thankful heart.
Are you ignoring sin in your life? How can you live with a thankful heart, since Christ has bought you with such a great sacrifice?
Rebecca Van Noord
April 13: The Curious Thing about God’s Work
Deuteronomy 26:1–27:26; 2 Corinthians 6:14–7:1; Psalm 40:1–17
Doing God’s work is a curious thing. It requires both mad rushes and patiently waiting.
Christ followers are meant to think like the psalmist did: “I waited patiently for Yahweh, And he inclined to me and heard my cry for help” (Psa 40:1). Yet Jesus’ followers are also meant to do His work at breakneck speed, as described in Deut 26:1, where the Israelites are told to take possession of the promised land and settle it.
We’re meant to recognize where the answers and timeframe come from: God. Giving the first of what we make to God’s work indicates this understanding: “You shall take from the firstfruit of all the fruit of the ground that you harvest from your land that Yahweh your God is giving to you … and you shall go to the priest who is in office in those days, and you shall say, ‘I declare today to Yahweh your God that I have come into the land that Yahweh swore to our ancestors to give to us.’ Then the priest takes the basket from your hand and places it before the altar of Yahweh your God” (Deut 26:2–4).
In ancient Israel, the firstfruits wouldn’t be wasted. This sacrifice would provide the priest with a livelihood so that he could serve Yahweh by serving others.
God has asked His followers to listen and to act, but to leave the timeframe of doing both up to Him. Giving after we complete both tasks shows that we realize that God has given us all we have, and it requires us to understand the purpose of sacrifice.
Just as the Israelites were a wandering people (Deut 26:5), we were also once wandering sinners. It’s for this reason, and many others, that we must trust our God in our patience, in our speed, and with our giving.
What is God asking you to be patient about, and where should you make haste? How are you currently neglecting to give?
John D. Barry
April 14: Tearing Down to Build Up
Deuteronomy 28:1–68; 2 Corinthians 7:2–7; Psalm 41
It’s difficult to take rebuke, especially when it’s unsolicited. We feel exposed and embarrassed when our sin is brought to light. And if we don’t have the humility to accept rebuke, the experience can leave us at odds with the brave soul who assumes the task.
For Paul, who rebuked the Corinthians, news of their love was a relief and comfort to him: “But God, who comforts the humble, comforted us by the coming of Titus, and not only by his coming, but also by the comfort with which he was comforted among you, because he reported to us your longing, your mourning, your zeal for me, so that I rejoiced even more” (2 Cor 7:6–7).
We form community when others challenge us and encourage us to live for God. While community can fulfill our social needs, it’s this common purpose that draws us together. When we take rebuke graciously and seek forgiveness from God, it forges the bond of community. When we rebel, or when we’re sensitive and prideful, it creates a rift. Because the Corinthians felt sorrow for their sin and expressed concern for Paul, it solidified their relationship. And it comforted him and brought him incredible joy during conflict and trial.
Surprisingly, the rebuked person often has to be intentional about extending love and comfort to the one who brings the rebuke. Paul tells the Corinthians to “make room for us in your hearts” (2 Cor 7:2). We should do the same for those in our community. Not all people possess Paul’s zeal and boldness, so we should prepare ourselves to graciously accept correction when it comes—solicited or not. Reaching out to those around us and letting them know we appreciate their rebuke will help build up a community that is authentically following Jesus.
Do others approach you about your sin? If you haven’t been rebuked recently, how can you make yourself more approachable?
Rebecca Van Noord
April 15: I’ll Take the Arrow
Deuteronomy 29:1–29; 2 Corinthians 7:8–16; Psalm 42:1–43:5
“Better is an arrow from a friend than a kiss from an enemy.”
When I first heard this saying, I was struck by what a truism it is. It wasn’t until years later, though, that I began surrounding myself with wise friends who would tell me the truth even when it was difficult to hear.
Paul was a true friend to the Corinthians, and it’s for this reason that he rebuked them: “For if indeed I grieved you by my letter, I do not regret it.… For grief according to the will of God brings about a repentance leading to salvation, not to be regretted, but worldly grief brings about death” (2 Cor 7:8, 10).
I recently felt God asking me to rebuke someone. I was hesitant at first, but I followed through. Afterward, I was tempted to lighten the weight of my words by writing a follow-up explanation, but I was certain that it wasn’t God’s will that I do so; I felt that nearly all the words I had spoken were in His will. I had to be confident that the rebuke had power to lead the person to repentance and that the repentance could lead to salvation. I shouldn’t regret what I had done, but embrace it.
Moses had a similar experience to Paul’s. He spoke harsh words into the lives of the Israelites when renewing God’s covenant with them. He said things like: “You have not eaten bread, and you have not drunk wine and strong drink, so that you may know that I am Yahweh your God” (Deut 29:6). When the Israelites were deprived of things they thought they deserved, it was so that they could learn about God; such deprivation would force them to be dependent upon Yahweh.
I had another experience lately where I was on the receiving end of a truthful rebuke. My typical response is defensiveness, but I sensed from my friend’s voice that he was genuine. He was speaking words of experience, love, and godly wisdom. God worked in my heart and I listened. Even though they hurt, I had to be thankful for the wise words. As I’ve been tempted to fall into my old patterns since then, that rebuke continues to make a difference. I’m thankful for honest friends.
We often use the phrase “Judge not lest you be judged” as an excuse for not speaking the truth to someone (Matt 7:1). But Paul clearly didn’t use it that way. He understood that he was the worst of sinners, and he gladly admitted it. In grace, he issued rebukes.
Judging people incorrectly and out of hate or envy is a problem in our world. But so is failing to speak up when we see someone going astray. Paul didn’t judge—rather, he stated that God would judge according to His plans and oracles. Paul said it like it was, based on what God led him to say. He didn’t degrade people; he promoted godly behavior.
Do you have godly friends who speak honest words to you? If not, how can you go about making friends that will? How can you be open to speaking the truth to others without judging them?
John D. Barry
April 16: Bold Requests
Deuteronomy 30:1–31:29; 2 Corinthians 8:1–7; Psalm 44
Psalm 44 is bold. Who asks the Lord to “wake up”? Who asks Him why He is sleeping?
The psalmist doesn’t stop with these questions. He makes claims regarding God that seem like accusations: “you have rejected and disgraced us,” “you have given us as sheep for food,” and “you have sold your people cheaply” (Psa 44:9, 11, 12). How do we deal with these types of psalms? Should we be as bold in our relationship with God?
But these claims aren’t made without reason. The psalmist opens his lament with, “O God, we have heard with our ears; our ancestors have told us of work you worked in their days, in days of old” (Psa 44:1). He had heard stories of God’s past faithfulness—how he delivered His people in battles. He also knew that God had claimed His people, that His favor to them was a testimony to the surrounding nations. But the psalmist experiences something different. Why is Israel “a taunt to our neighbors, a derision and a scorn to those around us” (Psa 44:13)?
The psalmist wrestles with his experience because he knows God’s will. He appeals to God’s faithfulness, love, and reputation among the nations. It’s not much different from our own experience, as we wrestle with evil, sorrow, and pain, and as we wonder about God’s work in the world.
But in the midst of the confusion, we still need to place trust in God. Although the psalmist questions boldly, he acknowledges, “In God, we boast all the day, and we will give thanks to your name forever” (Psa 44:8). At the end of the psalm, he still petitions God for help, on the basis of His love: “Rise up! Be a help for us, and redeem us for the sake of your loyal love” (Psa 44:26).
God has redeemed us for the sake of His loyal love, and He is present and active—even when it seems otherwise. Colossians 1 tells us to give thanks to the Father, “who has rescued us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of the Son he loves … because all things in the heavens and on the earth were created by him … and in him all things are held together … because he was well pleased for all the fullness to dwell in him, and through him to reconcile all things to himself, by making peace through the blood of his cross” (Col 1:12–20).
Do you trust in God’s love and deliverance, even when circumstances seem grim? Do you boldly petition Him for help, acknowledging His good character in the process?
Rebecca Van Noord
April 17: It’s Actually Quite Simple
Deuteronomy 31:30–32:52; 2 Corinthians 8:8–15; Psalm 45:1–17
“May my teaching trickle like the dew, my words like rain showers on tender grass … For I will proclaim the name of Yahweh; ascribe greatness to our God! The Rock, his work is perfect, for all his ways are just; he is a faithful God, and without injustice; righteous and upright is he” (Deut 32:2–4).
We all teach in some way. Some of us teach at church, others teach co-workers or employees. Some teach the children in their household, and others teach simply by doing (although we don’t always acknowledge these roles). If all of us lived by Moses’ prayer, things would be quite different. Imagine a world where we proclaimed Yahweh’s greatness in all we say and do.
Moses’ words also teach us something about God. If we’re looking for perfection in what we do, we should look to the one who actually manifests it. If we’re looking to be faithful, we should rely on the one who is faithful in all He does. If it’s right actions we desire in our lives and the world, we should seek the upright one.
There is no doubting that the problems in our lives and world are complicated. They can’t be undersold, and the difficult stories can’t be told too many times. But there is a place to look when we need guidance and revitalization. There is a rock to stabilize us; we have a firm foundation (compare Matt 7:24–27).
The first-century Corinthian church was tasked with carrying out Paul’s work of bringing many in Corinth to Jesus and listening to the Spirit so that they could be God’s hands and feet in the city. We, like the Corinthian church, have work to finish (2 Cor 8:10–12).
God has given us action steps as individuals and as communities. And if we doubt that, then it is our job to seek answers from Him. Often we are unsure because we aren’t listening to Him; we aren’t really seeking His will.
May we feel like Moses about our own teaching work—the work of proclaiming Jesus in what we do and say. May we make the same requests of God.
Then, may your words trickle down like rain showers on tender grass. May you find the words God wishes to speak through you, and may you find the people who you are meant to teach.
Who are you tasked with teaching? What work has God given you? How can you improve that work and make it more glorifying to Him?
John D. Barry
April 18: Operating Standards
Deuteronomy 33:1–34:12; 2 Corinthians 8:16–24; Psalm 46
Sometimes I operate on the premise that if I’m honoring God and following Him, I don’t have to be concerned with what other people think. But carrying this too far is just as faulty as basing my identity on the approval of others. One leads to foolish pride and independence, and the other results in idolatry.
Paul, upon receiving a generous gift from believers in Jerusalem, felt called to explain his actions to the Corinthian church. He was intentional about how he would accept the gift, “lest anyone should find fault with us in this abundant gift that is being administered by us” (2 Cor 8:20). He explains why he is so concerned: “For we are taking into consideration what is honorable not only before the Lord, but also before people” (2 Cor 8:21).
In his ministry, Paul considered how his actions would be interpreted by observers. Since he experienced opposition in the community, he wanted to communicate how he would receive the gift—to be above reproach. The gospel was primary, and he wanted to avoid accusations that would impede the message of salvation.
Daily, we face situations where we can be governed by others’ opinions. We also can offend them. When are we too vigilant? How do we keep from becoming a robot, motivated by other people’s desires instead of love for God? When do we challenge other people’s faith, instead of tiptoeing around them? Answering these questions takes incredible wisdom.
In 2 Corinthians 8, Paul draws from Proverbs 3: “May loyal love and truth not forsake you; bind them around your neck, write them upon your heart. And you shall find favor and good sense in the eyes of God and humankind” (Prov 3:3–4). Acting out of love, with a foundation of truth, can help us learn to honor God and love people. Being human, we will not always carry this out successfully. But operating on both love and truth and seeking wisdom and guidance for every situation, we can trust God to work out those places where we fail.
When it comes to relationships, what is your basis for operation?
Rebecca Van Noord
April 19: He’s Dead, But You Can Be Alive
Joshua 1:1–3:17; 2 Corinthians 9:1–5; Psalm 47:1–9
“My servant Moses is dead” (Josh 1:2).
Imagine the shock of this moment for Joshua, Moses’ right-hand man. He probably already knew about Moses’ death before God told him (Deut 34:1–8), but it’s in this moment that he really feels the tragedy.
If you’ve experienced death, you know this feeling—the moment when someone looks you in the eyes and says, “They’re gone.” You can’t prepare for it. It’s death; there’s nothing you can do to change it or handle it.
This was also the moment when Joshua was confronted with the great leadership burden that he would now carry as a result of Moses’ passing—equivalent to the emotional burden a vice president carries as he’s being sworn into office after the president has died.
Yahweh tells Joshua, “Get up and cross the Jordan, you and all this people, into the land that I am giving to them, to the children of Israel. Every place that the soles of your feet will tread, I have given it to you, as I promised to Moses” (Josh 1:2–3). There isn’t a moment to spare; it’s time to move. So Joshua leads. Of all the incredible moments in his life—the battles he won and bravery he showed in the face of danger—this moment is probably the most impressive because he simply does it (Josh 2:1).
And Joshua does so in the face of the great fear of foreign warriors: “From the wilderness and the Lebanon, up to the great river, the river Euphrates, all of the land of the Hittites, and up to the great sea in the west, will be your territory” (Josh 1:4). He will face these warriors while still overcoming grief.
We all experience moments like these that will shape who we become. We’ll experience grief, pain, and difficult decisions. We may be called to lead people. What we do in these moments is what defines us; it determines what kind of Christ followers we will be.
Joshua experienced the great comfort of God’s Spirit and guidance, and Christians have the opportunity to do the same (Deut 34:9–12; John 17). That’s something that no one can take away from us and no circumstance can overcome.
How are you handling grief or pain in your life? What important moments and decisions are in front of you? How can you incorporate the Spirit into everything you do at this moment?
John D. Barry
April 20: Be Generous to Consume?
Joshua 4:1–6:27; 2 Corinthians 9:6–15; Psalm 48
Our culture encourages us to absorb the latest and greatest, and then cast off our gently used devices. We are targeted to accumulate and consume. The new feature we learned about yesterday is now the one we can’t live without. At first, 2 Corinthians 9 seems to appeal to our consumer lifestyle: “The one who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and the one who sows bountifully will also reap bountifully” (2 Cor 9:6).
This verse has often been used to encourage giving, because then, God will provide us with even more. But should we give more for the sake of consuming more? Should this be our motivation for generosity?
Paul debunks this idea in the next verse: “Each one should give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or from compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Cor 9:7). Certainly God will provide for those who give; He takes care of those who follow Him. But our willingness to give should not be out of compulsion, obligation, or giving in order to receive. Selfish giving produces selfishness, not the love and mercy God desires (Micah 6:8).
God is incredibly generous. He gives us gifts—even sending His Son to die for us. As a result of His gracious love, we should also freely give. It reflects the thankfulness in our hearts: “being made rich in every way for all generosity” (2 Cor 9:11).
God’s generosity doesn’t hinge on our giving. We should give out of love for Him, and not from expecting a return on our investment.
What are your motives for giving?
Rebecca Van Noord
April 21: The Misnomer about God’s Will
Joshua 7:1–8:35; 2 Corinthians 10:1–8; Psalm 49:1–20
We often hear a great misnomer about following God’s will. It usually sounds something like this: “God has commanded me to do x, so I’m going to go into x blindly without fear.” A phrase like this has elements of great truth—faith should carry us. But it’s missing a piece.
Sometimes God instructs us to follow Him quickly and blindly. When that’s the case, we should certainly do it. However, His commands should almost always be combined with the abilities that He has given us, including logic and rationality. We have to find the balance. If we get too rational, it can be at the detriment of God’s will; we can reason ourselves out of taking the risks God wants us to take.
Joshua, the leader of the Israelites after Moses, is a great example of proper behavior within God’s will. He learned from Moses and led out of that strength and experience, but he was led by the Spirit (Deut 34:9–12). He also did the proper legwork, even though he knew that God had guaranteed success if he and the people were faithful.
We see a glimpse into this strategy in Josh 7:2–5, the battle of Ai. Joshua sent spies into enemy territory before invading it. He then paced the troops by sending only a small regiment at first (Josh 7:3). Despite his proper behavior, Joshua was unsuccessful because of the people’s disobedience (Josh 7:1).
After this, we see the pain that Joshua felt as a result of the people’s spiritual failures (Josh 7:6–9). Yahweh didn’t allow for this to continue, though, because He was aware of the root cause of the problem; God called Joshua to find it and change it, so he did (Josh 7:10–26).
Joshua shows us what it means to follow God’s will: receive a call, be trained, act out of wisdom and preparation, accept defeat when it comes, seek Yahweh’s will again to fix it, and then confront the problem head on. The result: success (Josh 8:1–29). Following their victory, Joshua rededicated himself and those he led to Yahweh (Josh 8:30–35).
If we understood how to function within God’s will, we would be much more successful for God. We would see great and miraculous things happen. And this understanding is not just reserved for the leader, but for all people.
What patterns of following God’s will do you need to change? How have you misunderstood what it means to live for Him?
John D. Barry
April 22: Judging Gifts
Joshua 9:1–10:15; 2 Corinthians 10:9–18; Psalm 50
Comparing our gifts to those of the person sitting in the next cubicle or pew is dangerous work. Judging ourselves by this standard denigrates or inflates the gifts we’ve been given, leading to either ungratefulness or pride. Because the assessment method is faulty, we will always miss the mark of success—even if we’re successful.
Paul had been called by God to minister to the Gentiles (see Acts 9:15). When others in the Gentile community questioned his authority, Paul boldly defended his calling. He also pointed out the measure by which these leaders judged their gifts: each other. They were undermining Paul’s authority based on his lack of verbal abilities (2 Cor 10:10). Paul was undeterred by this because he knew his calling: “But we will not boast beyond limits, but according to the measure of the assignment that God has assigned to us” (2 Cor 10:13).
If we judge our gifts and calling by comparison, we serve the idol of our own pride. But this doesn’t mean we should take them for granted. Instead, we are called to live for God: “The one who boasts, let him boast in the Lord” (2 Cor 10:17).
Thankfulness is the first step to using our gifts for God’s glory. In Psalm 50, the psalmist acknowledges that everything is from God—a reason to sacrifice our own pride. God says, “The world and its fullness are mine” (Psa 50:12). But He does delight in the sacrifice of a thankful heart: “Offer to God a thank offering, and pay your vows to the Most High” (Psa 50:14–15).
We’ll always come up short if we judge by comparison; there will be someone who is smarter or more gifted than we are. But by thanking God for our gifts (and for others’ gifts), and asking Him for guidance in developing them, we can use them appropriately—not for our own gain, but to further His kingdom.
Are you judging your gifts by comparison? How can you judge your life in the light of God’s purposes?
Rebecca Van Noord
April 23: The Art of Confession
Joshua 10:16–11:23; 2 Corinthians 11:1–6; Psalm 51:1–19
Confession is a lost art. Most Christian communities today have little outlet for doing so, and the systems for confessing that we do have are often tainted by a lack of honesty and trust.
This isn’t helped by the fact that none of us like to admit wrong. Yet God calls us to confession. In revealing sin in our lives, we have an opportunity to change (Jas 5:16). When a sin is revealed, the strength of temptation wanes.
This is not to suggest that we should openly confess our sins to all people, for unsafe and abusive people certainly exist. Rather, in close friendship with other Christians, we should be honest about our failures. Most importantly, we must confess these things to God.
We need to overcome the fatal assumption that because we are saved by Christ’s dying and rising for our sins, we no longer need to confess them. In admitting our sins to God, we move toward overcoming them and into an honest relationship with Him. God already knows who we are and what we’ve done, so there is no reason to fear being honest with Him. And perhaps in learning to be honest with Him we can also learn to be honest with others.
For many of us, the difficulty of praying about our sins is what prevents us from telling God what we need and what we’ve done. God has an answer to this, though: the psalms.
For example, in Psa 51, the psalmist says, “Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and from my sin cleanse me. For I, myself, know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me” (Psa 51:2–3). He goes on to say, “Create a clean heart for me, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and with a willing spirit sustain me” (Psa 51:10–12).
When we confess our sins to God and to others, He is faithful to help us overcome temptations. We have been given the great gift of Christ Jesus, who purifies us from all our wrongs against Him and others. And so we must seek His presence and live in it; in doing so, we can overcome the power of sin. In light of God’s power, sin is nothing; it deserves no stronghold.
Are you currently confessing your sins to God and others? How can you create a safe system to confess your sins in a way that honors God?
John D. Barry
April 24: Tongues, Flames, and Other Things That Devour
Joshua 12:1–13:32; 2 Corinthians 11:7–15; Psalm 52:1–53:6
I’d like to skip over the description of the “mighty man” in Psa 52. Of all of his destructive influences, the mighty man is most judged for his use of words. The psalmist’s words burn because I’ve set more than a few forests ablaze with careless words (Jas 3:5). So how should someone like me respond to the psalmist’s judgment?
“Why do you boast about evil, O mighty man? The loyal love of God endures continually. Your tongue plans destruction, like a sharp razor, working deceit. You love evil more than good, a lie more than speaking what is right. You love all devouring words, O deceitful tongue” (Psa 52:1–4).
Prideful self-reliance is at the root of the evil man’s devouring, razor-sharp tongue. He boasts to make himself appear mighty. He takes “refuge in his destructiveness” (Psa 52:7). In contrast, the psalmist finds refuge in God, in the sanctuary of His loyal love: “But I am like an olive tree flourishing in the house of God. I trust in the loyal love of God forever and ever” (Psa 52:8).
On my own, I’m more like the mighty man than the stable and prosperous olive tree. I can try to manage my words, fabricating my sense of security on the basis of good behavior. But efforts born out of self-reliance—the root problem of my flippant speech—always fail me. Unless I recognize the foolishness of my pride, I cannot see my desperate need for God. Without hope in Jesus, who provided refuge through His sacrifice, I’ll never resemble the psalmist’s prosperous olive tree.
Oftentimes, the places where we fail so miserably, where we need the most grace, are also the places we see God’s work all the more. His Spirit changes us into people who bear the fruit of thankfulness. It makes us ever more eager to say with the psalmist: “I will give thanks to you forever, because of what you have done” (Psa 52:9).
Where do you see pride and self-reliance taking root in your life?
Rebecca Van Noord
April 25: Bound for the Promised Land
Joshua 14:1–15:63; 2 Corinthians 11:16–23; Psalm 54:1–7
Faith is not just about being faithful; it’s also about trusting in God’s faithfulness.
For years God dealt with the confused and waning nature of His people while they were in the wilderness. They wondered, “Will God actually do what Moses has told us?” They had seen God repeatedly act on their behalf, but they continued to grow frightened and faithless. In return, the first generation that left Egypt never saw the promises of God. Instead, a later generation witnessed His faithfulness.
In Joshua 14:1–15:63, we see God fulfilling His words. Caleb and Joshua get a chance to witness this faithfulness, but the Hebrews who doubted that God would act on their behalf did not (Josh 14:6–15; also see Num 13:25–14:45). This is an incredible moment: these two men had watched the failures of their elders and led their peers and people younger than them so that they could witness the faithfulness of God together. You can almost hear them singing, “It is well with my soul.”
Faith is a two-way street. We are to be faithful, but we must also have faith in God’s faithfulness. God will do what He has told us He will do. He will act upon His word like He did with Joshua and Caleb.
We will be able to look back upon the events in our lives and say, as the psalmist does, “I will freely sacrifice to you; I will give thanks to your name, O Yahweh, because it is good. Because he has delivered me from all trouble” (Psa 54:6–7).
Since we know that day will come, why should we not freely sacrifice to Him now? He will overcome our opposition. Why should we not boldly proclaim, as the old hymn says, “I am bound for the promised land,” and use it as leverage to say, “God will be faithful, so there is no reason why we shouldn’t be”?
God has bound us to His faithfulness; Christ’s death and resurrection shows that He blesses us beyond measure. So let’s be bound to God with the knowledge that we are bound for the heavens that He has promised.
In what ways has God been faithful to you? How can these moments be a reminder to you now to be faithful?
John D. Barry
April 26: Bitter and Betrayed
Joshua 16:1–17:18; 2 Corinthians 11:24–33; Psalm 55
The betrayal of a loved one can shake our world. It can make us feel vulnerable and used, and if we’re not careful, it can cause us to be bitter and suspicious toward others. The psalmist in Psalm 55 experiences such a betrayal from a friend who feared God: “We would take sweet counsel together in the house of God” (Psa 55:14).
The psalmist agonizes over how he was deceived: “The buttery words of his mouth were smooth, but there was battle in his heart. His words were smoother than oil, but they were drawn swords” (Psa 55:21). How does someone move beyond a violation of trust? Instead of growing bitter, the psalmist puts his trust in Yahweh: “Cast your burden on Yahweh, and he will sustain you. He will never allow the righteous to be moved” (Psa 55:22).
Similarly, in 2 Corinthians, Paul tells the church in Corinth about his sufferings. Among Paul’s lashings, stonings, shipwrecks (three of them), and robbings, he also lists “dangers because of false brothers” (2 Cor 11:26). He suffered anxiety because of the churches (2 Cor 11:28).
Paul adds to this list by discussing a force of oppression over him. He states that he prayed for his “thorn” to be taken from him (2 Cor 12:8). However, the Lord told him, “My grace is sufficient for you, because the power is perfected in weakness” (2 Cor 12:9). This reshapes Paul’s perspective on suffering: “I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in calamities, in persecutions and difficulties for the sake of Christ, for whenever I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Cor 12:10). By submitting to Christ, Paul relied less on himself and more heavily on God. As a result, God’s grace and power was manifested within him.
Betrayal causes bitterness that can poison our hearts. But, like Paul, we should use trials as an opportunity to submit more fully to God, and to show others His work in us.
How are you holding onto bitterness? What would God have you do instead?
Rebecca Van Noord
April 27: Walking in Circles
Joshua 18:1–19:9; 2 Corinthians 12:1–10; Psalm 56:1–13
I often wish things were more obvious. I ask God to help me understanding His timing so that I can easily act. I ask for everything to happen at the right moments. I ask Him to give me such clear directions that I can’t fail in following them. I used to think this was a good thing, but I realize now that all my questions could indicate a lack of faith. It seems that my questions lead to more questions. Like a man losing his memory in old age, I end up walking in circles around the block rather than finding my way home.
Maybe it’s not the lack of knowing that disturbs me, but that when I really know what God wants, I will have to act. In general, this seems to be the problem with faith in western Christianity. We say we don’t know what God wants. However, if we’re honest with ourselves, perhaps we don’t really want to know what God wants. In our hearts, we’re certain that knowing will mean uncomfortable change.
Joshua calls the Israelites on this type of faith problem: “How long will you be slack about going to take possession of the land that Yahweh, the God of your ancestors, has given you?” (Josh 18:3). The same question applies to us. How long will we wait? We really know what we’re supposed to do? If we don’t, might the reason be that we don’t want to know?
Often we hesitate because we’re afraid of our weaknesses—that we don’t think we have what it takes. Paul addresses this when discussing his own weaknesses: “And [God] said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, because the power is perfected in weakness.’ Therefore rather I will boast most gladly in my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may reside in me’ ” (2 Cor 12:9).
Rather than live in fear, we should boast in our weaknesses. Christ is working in us, to use us, in spite of them. No one is perfect; only Christ has the honor of perfection. And while we are weak, He will give us strength in Him. His strength can overcome whoever we are, wherever we have been, and whatever we will do.
Rather than walking in circles looking for home, let’s realize that we are already home. Our home is Christ.
In what ways are you currently walking in circles? What should you be doing instead?
John D. Barry
April 28: The Subtle Sinner
Joshua 19:10–20:9; 2 Corinthians 12:11–21; Psalm 57:1–58:11
Some sins slip through the cracks—the ones that emerge in hushed tones between like-minded Christians. Sometimes these sins seem respectable because they occur out of supposed concerns for the Church or others. But they can leave deep gashes in the life of a community because they often go unchecked. And it’s these sins that Paul addresses shortly before closing his letter to the Corinthians:
“For I am afraid lest somehow when I arrive, I will not find you as I want, and I may be found by you as you do not want. I am afraid lest somehow there will be strife, jealousy, outbursts of anger, selfish ambition, slander, gossip, pride, disorder” (2 Cor 12:20).
While the Corinthians were guilty of flagrant sins like impurity, sexual immorality, and licentiousness, they were also sinning in ways that subtly undermined Paul’s authority. Slander and gossip created deep divisions in the Corinthian church, just as they do in our churches today.
We often don’t realize we’re committing these sins until rumors reach the individual we’re gossiping about. Paul had been absent from the Corinthian community for some time. During his absence, dissenters slandered him. The Corinthians should have defended Paul while he was away, but instead, he was forced to defend his own ministry (2 Cor 13:2–3). He anticipated that his return to the community would reveal the true state of the situation.
Ultimately, these subtle sins were an attack on the good news—not just Paul. Because his integrity was brought into question, the authenticity of his message was also criticized. In addition, Paul was forced to address their sin before he could reach out to other communities with the good news (2 Cor 10:15).
The decisions we make on a daily basis can lead to division or unity in our community. And choosing to be a faithful peacemaker in the midst of divisive sins might have a bigger impact than we can imagine.
What are your subtle sins that are wrongfully condoned?
Rebecca Van Noord
April 29: Examine Thy Self
Joshua 21:1–22:9; 2 Corinthians 13:1–10; Psalm 59:1–17
Before advising others on how they should act, self-examination is always necessary. When the Corinthians questioned the authenticity of Paul and his colleagues’ ministry (which is ironic, since he had planted their church), Paul says to them: “Test yourselves to see if you are in the faith. Examine yourselves! Or do you not recognize regarding yourselves that Jesus Christ is in you, unless you are unqualified?” (2 Cor 13:5).
None of us are ready for the ministry that Jesus has for us because we’re not worthy of the great gift of salvation He has offered. We are meant to find our identity and calling in Christ and to lead out of the gifts He has given us (see 1 Cor 12). For this reason, Paul makes this claim:
“And I hope that you will recognize that we are not unqualified! Now we pray to God that you not do wrong in any way, not that we are seen as approved, but that you do what is good, even though we are seen as though unqualified. For we are not able to do anything against the truth, but rather only for the truth” (2 Cor 13:6–8).
Paul is bound to what Christ has called him to do, which is why he often calls himself a slave for Christ (e.g., Rom 1:1). Because of His great sacrifice, Paul sees the only natural action is living fully—with his entire being—for Jesus. It is in Christ that Paul finds his strength, even in the difficulties he faces with the Corinthians: “For we rejoice whenever we are weak, but you are strong, and we pray for this: your maturity” (2 Cor 13:9).
The psalmist also has a plea for times when he faces opposition from others: “Deliver me from my enemies, O my God. Protect me from those who rise up against me.… For look, they lie in wait for my life. The mighty attack against me, not because of my transgression or my sin, O Yahweh. Without guilt on my part they run and ready themselves. Awake to meet me and see” (Psa 59:1, 3–4).
The Bible is full of understanding and insight for moments of struggle. And we have a great Savior who can sympathize with our struggles (Heb 4:14–16). It’s not a matter of if we as Christ followers will experience unrighteous opposition; it’s a matter of when. May we have the type of faithfulness that Paul and the psalmist did. May we plea to the good God who loves us. May we speak only His truth.
What opposition are you currently experiencing? How would God have you to answer it? How should you be praying to Him?
John D. Barry
April 30: They’re Futile; This Isn’t
Joshua 22:10–24:33; 2 Corinthians 13:11–14; Psalm 60:1–12
If you knew it was time to die, to say goodbye for good, what would you say? How would your final hoorah sound?
In an episode of Northern Exposure, Dr. Joel Fleischman is convinced that he is dying. Joel, who is usually conservative, begins risking everything: he drives a motorcycle way too fast without a helmet, gets a ticket that he rips up, and eventually crashes the bike—all while feeling no remorse. He then returns to his office to learn that he is actually fine; his doctor’s initial inclination was incorrect. Almost immediately, he becomes angry that he didn’t know his fate earlier. In his recklessness, he could have prematurely ended his life.
The risks you take when you think your life is over are quite different from those you’re willing to take when you think you’re fine. The things you say, the person you are, would be very different if you knew tomorrow were your last day.
Joshua, who led Israelites into the promised land, knew his end was coming. As an old man, he commanded the Israelites: “But hold fast to Yahweh your God … Yahweh has driven out before you great and strong nations; and as for you, nobody has withstood you to this day. One of your men put to flight a thousand, for Yahweh your God is fighting for you, just as he promised you” (Josh 23:8–10).
Paul made a similar remark: “For we rejoice whenever we are weak, but you are strong, and we pray for this: your maturity” (2 Cor 13:9). Paul realized that maturity in Christ will always put us in the right place in the end. He concluded his letter to the Corinthians by expanding upon this message: “Finally, brothers [and sisters], rejoice, be restored, be encouraged, be in agreement, be at peace, and the God of love and peace will be with you” (2 Cor 13:11).
What would you say if you were Joel, Joshua, or Paul? What would you do? As Christians, the response should be the same no matter how long we have to live; Christ could come tomorrow. Does that thought give you joy or great fear?
Whenever we experience pain, grief, or encounter enemies, the oppositions of life seem to distract us from our great purpose in Christ. They mask the brevity of our time on earth. Perhaps this is why the psalmist puts it best: “Give us help against the adversary, for the help of humankind is futile. Through God we will do valiantly, and it is he who will tread down our enemies” (Psa 60:11–12).
What hope are you currently placing in the futility of humankind? What actions can you take to refocus your hope on Christ?
May 1: Who Will Fight for Us?
Judges 1:1–2:10; Philippians 1:1–11; Psalm 61:1–62:12
“Who will go up first for us against the Canaanites to fight against them?” (Judg 1:1).
I’ve felt this way before—wondering who will be my advocate in my time of need. It’s ironic that we are surrounded by people, and we have constant access to communication, and yet we can still feel alone. In a world of ambient noise, we’re often left feeling that no one is there to come to our aid. Most of us do have people to help us; it’s just that we’re not willing to ask for help. At all times, we have someone who will be our guide in times of distress.
Paul tells us that it is Christ “who began a good work in you [and He] will finish it until the day [He returns]” (Phil 1:6). In essence, the story of Paul and the Philippian believers’ struggles is really the same story told in the book of Judges. God’s people are at war against powers seen and unseen (Phil 3:1–4; compare Col 1:16). They feel lonely and wounded, but when they search their hearts, they see that God really is rising up to defend them. In Judges, He sends His people great advocates who go out before them in battle. In Philippians, we see Paul telling his story to a church in need of a leader so they can look to his example (e.g., Phil 1:12–25; 3:1–21). We also see Paul, time and time again, point to the greatest example: Christ (e.g., Phil 1:9–11).
In the humility of his situation, Paul sees God at work (Phil 2). When God’s people found themselves in dire circumstances, being opposed by outside forces, they saw God come to their aid (e.g., Judg 4). Christ is our advocate before God the Father, and He is our guide in this life, which can often be confusing and disheartening. God’s faithfulness in guiding and loving His people remains the same today as yesterday, but now we see an even greater manifestation of that love in Jesus.
What humbling situation are you going through? How can you hand it over to God and trust in His providence?
John D. Barry
May 2: Don’t Focus on Overcoming
Judges 2:11–3:31; Philippians 1:12–18; Psalm 63–64
When I go through difficult circumstances, I want the end. I’m so focused on escape and overcoming that I barely think about what God might be teaching me through that experience. And I’m certainly not thinking about how He might be using me to witness to others.
Paul was on a completely different wavelength. In his letter to the church at Philippi, he sets his Roman imprisonment in context: “Now I want you to know, brothers, that my circumstances have happened instead for the progress of the gospel, so that my imprisonment in Christ has become known in the whole praetorium and to all the rest” (Phil 1:12–13).
Paul wasn’t just enduring or anticipating the end of his imprisonment. He was using his experience to be a witness for Christ. His captors must have wondered: what makes a person willing to suffer like this? What makes his message worth imprisonment?
Paul’s circumstances didn’t merely create waves with those he was testifying to. Other believers were emboldened by Paul’s endurance and preached the gospel without fear (Phil 1:14).
It’s not natural to be filled with joy in the midst of difficult times. It’s not normal to have a sense of purpose when everything appears to be going wrong. We don’t expect much from ourselves or others during these times, but God wants to refine us and use us. He’s giving us a chance to display the “peace of God that surpasses all understanding”—as a testimony to Christ’s redemptive work (Phil 4:7). Are you responding?
How can you use your difficult circumstances to point others toward Christ?
Rebecca Van Noord
May 3: If Life Were a Musical
Judges 4:1–6:10; Philippians 1:19–30; Psalm 65:1–13
Maybe life should be more like a musical or an oratorio—like Les Misérables or Handel’s Messiah. How we feel is often expressed better in song or poetry than anything else. Literary criticism tells us that poets write verse because prose simply can’t capture the emotions they’re feeling. So much of the Bible is poetry, suggesting that maybe, in a way, poems and songs are the language of God.
Deborah and Barak understood this. After Yahweh claimed victory over Israel’s foes through them, they “sang on that day” (Judg 5:1). The Bible records their song. It was epic—the earth trembling (Judg 5:4, 5), the people rejoicing (Judg 5:7), and everyone singing as they recounted “the righteous deeds of Yahweh” and made their way to the city gates (Judg 5:11). This is music, after all; it’s expressive.
Paul breaks out in a type of song in Philippians as well (Phil 2:5–11). His song is a result of his raw excitement from reflecting on the work of the good news of Jesus in himself and others (Phil 1:12–26) and his hope that believers will be filled with “one purpose” (Phil 2:2). To truly worship God, you just have to sing. You have to feel and sound like a poet. God’s too exciting for anything else to suffice.
I know someone who thinks of life as a musical. Life is joy for that person because there’s a soundtrack for everything. If God is at work in everything, then we should want to worship Him constantly. We should sing His praises. We should write about our journeys, speak about them, share them, and experience God’s work among us collectively.
Christianity isn’t meant to be stale or dull—the early church was anything but. It was exciting, like God Himself, because His Spirit was working among believers. And his Spirit is working today. So clap, sing a little louder, and share your story. Find the soundtrack to it all.
How can you praise God more fully?
John D. Barry
May 4: More Than I Can Handle
Judges 6:11–7:25; Philippians 2:1–11; Psalm 66:1–20
“God doesn’t give us more than we can handle.”
This Christian maxim is a well-meaning attempt at putting our difficult times into perspective. It holds the view that God knows our weaknesses and knows when we can’t measure up to a challenge. But if we’re going through trials, this same saying can be debilitating when we feel that we can’t possibly handle a situation.
The psalms often describe circumstances that leave the nation of Israel hopelessly struggling and helplessly in need of God:
“For you have tested us, O God; you have tried us as silver is tried. You brought us into the net; you placed a heavy burden on our backs. You let men ride over our heads. We went through fire and through water, but you have brought us out to the place of abundance” (Psa 66:10–12).
Israel doesn’t often “handle” situations very well. Throughout its history, the nation chosen by God repeatedly rebelled against Him. Only when God gave them over to their enemies and they suffered through trials would they cry out for deliverance. Only when they stopped relying on themselves or foreign gods to sustain them would He come to their rescue.
It may be that God does give us more than we can handle. But this is actually—perhaps strangely—a source of comfort. If we could handle every circumstance, we’d never reach the end of our self-reliance. And it’s only when we get to the end of ourselves that we realize how much we desperately need Him.
Our trials give us hope. The people of Israel were “tried as silver is tried” (Psa 66:10). Just like them, we’ll be purified by fire. We will go “through fire and through water,” a process by which He makes us more wholly devoted to Him. And His work will bring us through “to the place of abundance” (Psa 66:12).
His faithfulness to us, even when we’re unfaithful, is reason to praise Him. And this is precisely the psalmist’s response: “Blessed be God, who has not turned aside my prayer, or his loyal love from me” (Psa 66:20). We see God’s perfect love for us in Jesus, who was obedient when we couldn’t be and suffered so we wouldn’t have to (Phil 2:5–8).
Do you think you can handle the troubles in your life? How can you see God’s faithfulness to you, even when you’re going through difficult circumstances?
Rebecca Van Noord
May 5: Believing in the Impossible
Judges 8:1–9:21; Philippians 2:12–18; Psalm 67:1–7
Too often, we’re cynical about circumstances. When people come to us for advice, we want to list all the reasons why they shouldn’t take a certain course of action. We want to dissuade them. But what if we had a little faith instead?
In Judges, we find someone who is surprisingly idealistic. When the men of Ephraim oppose Gideon, he says, “What have I done now in comparison to you? Are not the gleanings of Ephraim better than the grape harvest of Abiezer? God has given into your hand the commanders of Midian, Oreb, and Zeeb. What have I been able to do in comparison with you?” (Judg 8:2–3).
Gideon cleverly couches his request in the middle of compliments; he places positives on either side of it. He wins back their favor: “And their anger against him subsided when he said that” (Judg 8:3).
Gideon’s motives were flawed, theologically or interpersonally, but his actions do teach us something fascinating. People often want to be told that they can accomplish the impossible. Those who believe in the impossible can often accomplish things that others can’t. Of course, Gideon was audacious; he and the men from Ephraim could have been crushed by these warring nations of mightier strength and military intelligence. Surprisingly, in this circumstance, he succeeded (Judg 8:15–17).
We shouldn’t necessarily look to Gideon as a shining example (he makes lots of mistakes). But this incident is a reminder that we need to carefully consider our interactions with those we influence. What if we chose to be encouraging? What if we didn’t default to cynic mode? When someone comes to you for advice, consider the work that God might be working in that person. If He deems that they are worthy, they will accomplish their work—even if everything looks bleak at first.
Who can you encourage? How can you affirm people’s calling?
John D. Barry
May 6: Community Driven
Judges 9:22–10:18; Philippians 2:19–30; Psalm 68:1–14
By default, we flag our own needs as high priority. And we often measure our church community by how well it’s serving our needs. Caught up in our own spiritual growth, we tend to forget that we’re meant to attend to the physical and spiritual needs of others. Paul upholds Timothy and Epaphroditus to the Philippians as examples of what this type of service should look like.
Paul was intent on sending Timothy to the Philippian church because of his discernment and his servant-like heart. In fact Timothy was the only one suited for the task. Others wouldn’t “sincerely be concerned about [the Philippians’] circumstances. For they all seek their own interests, not those of Jesus Christ” (Phil 2:20–21). Likewise, Paul describes Epaphroditus as a man who suffered to the point of death in order to assist him in his ministry (Phil 2:30).
Both of these men epitomized the natural result of Paul’s commands earlier in his letter: “Do nothing according to selfish ambition or according to empty conceit, but in humility considering one another better than yourselves, each of you not looking out for your own interests, but also each of you for the interests of others” (Phil 2:3–4).
“Considering another individual better” didn’t mean the Philippians had to foster an exaggerated opinion of others—as if they deserved honor. Rather, Paul was instructing them to consider others’ needs ahead of their own. The church in Philippi had this example in Paul, Timothy, and Epaphroditus. But the original example is found in the person of Christ, who “humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Phil 2:8).
Christ’s sacrificial love was first shown undeservedly to us, and His example of humility, obedience, and service is a reminder that we should be looking for ways to serve those around us.
How can you reach out to someone who needs guidance, love or encouragement?
Rebecca Van Noord
May 7: Making Good out of Bad
Judges 11:1–12:15; Philippians 3:1–11; Psalm 68:15–35
God is renowned for working through unlikely means with the most unlikely people. During the period of the judges, there were few candidates less likely for God’s work than Jephthah himself: “Jephthah the Gileadite was a mighty warrior; he was the son of a prostitute, and Gilead was his father” (Judg 11:1). The man is the son of a prostitute and an adulterer who had other sons with his wife (compare Judg 11:2). It can seem odd that details like this are included in the Bible. This one is there because God is about to do something unexpected.
When Jephthah is told that he won’t inherit anything from his father, he flees and assembles a motley crew of other outlaws (Judg 11:3). If you’ve seen The Magnificent Seven, you might be tracking with this Wild West story: “After a time the Ammonites [a threatening nation of strong warriors], made war with Israel [a small nation with a reserve army at best]. When the Ammonites made war with Israel, the elders of Gilead went to bring Jephthah from the land of Tob. And they said to Jephthah, ‘Come and be our commander’ ” (Judg 11:4–6). Just like in The Magnificent Seven, the fates are about to turn: the misfit rebels will rise to the defense of the people who don’t understand them.
Jephthah goes to war against the Ammonites and wins, but he makes an impulsive and tragic mistake in the process (Judg 11:29–40). God had prepared him for this great work, but he fumbles—resorting to the types of vows made to foreign gods. He rebels against Yahweh and ends up killing his daughter as a result of his mistakes.
Although Jephthah was unexpectedly called to a great purpose, he didn’t respond to that call with a proper understanding of God. Jephthah could have repented from his rash vow, for God would not have wanted him to do such a thing as kill his daughter, but instead, he chose to view Yahweh like every other foreign god that demanded child sacrifice. In return, the life of Jephthah’s daughter was lost, and the spiritual life of Jephthah and the people he led was compromised.
What can we learn from Jephthah and his tragic mistake? Follow God’s calling, even when it’s unexpected. But in doing so, we must understand and embrace who He is and how He is working among us.
What does God want to do through you? How can you obey with a proper understanding and knowledge of Him?
John D. Barry
May 8: Beyond Regret
Judges 13:1–14:20; Philippians 3:12–4:1; Psalm 69:1–17
I’ve excelled at regret. When I’ve dwelt on the wrongs I committed against other people and my offensive rebellion against God, I lost my focus. It’s difficult to be confident in our righteousness through Christ when we go through these periods.
In Philippians 3:12–14, Paul offers both hope and advice for these times based on his own experience: “But I do one thing, forgetting the things behind and straining toward the things ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”
Paul looks forward to being with God in fullness and experiencing the fruits of his labor for the gospel, so he presses “toward the goal.” He emphasizes that we need to forget the “things behind.” Paul would have known the need for this. As a zealous Pharisee, he had persecuted the early church, counting himself the foremost of sinners (1 Tim 1:15).
Does forgetting imply that we act as if our failures never occurred? Not necessarily. We should seek forgiveness from others whenever possible. But it’s dangerous to dwell on the failures—to live in regret. In fact, we belittle Christ’s sacrifice if we purposefully or knowingly live in fear and guilt. He has paid for our sins and given us new life, and that means handing over our imperfections for Him to bear.
Paul swiftly moves from forgetting to “straining toward the things ahead, [he says,] I press on” (Phil 3:14). We are called to a new life in Christ, and this should be our focus. We will experience this, and we will know the complete fulfillment of this reality when He comes again. In the meantime, we can move forward without being crippled by our sins.
How are you caught up in your past mistakes? How can you seek help from God during these times while trusting in His forgiveness?
Rebecca Van Noord
May 9: Success Deceives
Judges 15:1–17:13; Philippians 4:2–9; Psalm 69:18–70:5
When leaders come to power, there are always people who become insistent on stopping them. It’s incredible how easy it is for people to justify envy or hatred for authority figures. Most of us have made the offhand remark, “I hate that guy.” And in those words, even when they’re meant in jest, we reveal the motives of the human heart. But this doesn’t represent who we’re meant to be—people who live for others.
Samson, an Israelite judge, endured that fate. A young warrior, he had enemies who wanted him dead and would do nearly anything to bring him down—spiritually or physically. The Philistines who opposed him went so far as to burn his wife and her father alive (Judg 15:6). Samson brought these trials on himself by disobeying God and marrying a foreign wife who would ultimately lead him to worship foreign gods. Even so, the acts of violence against him were not just his own doing.
The Philistines, like many people today, didn’t like to see an enemy succeed. They were envious and frustrated, and they weren’t used to being second to anyone.
There are lessons here for all of us no matter where we’re at in life. If we succeed, we should be thrilled when others do the same. We should try to help them succeed in the work God has called them to, designated specifically for them. If you have yet to come into that realm of success, you should be excited when others do, for the same reasons. Whatever your position in life, set aside the obstacles of envy or hatred. Set your sight on the work God has called you to and encourage those around you who are working toward theirs.
How can you help others succeed in God’s work? How can you set your sight on your own work without becoming envious?
John D. Barry
May 10: Old, Wise, and Desperately in Need of God
Judges 18:1–19:30; Philippians 4:10–20; Psalm 71:1–24
Sometimes we expect that we’ll naturally grow in faith as we grow older. We tend to see elderly people as those who have been molded and shaped by life—rock-solid in their faith and untapped sources of wisdom. That, or we speed around them in the grocery aisle, blissfully disengaged with the reality that our bodies, too, will slow down and endure pain.
While the psalmist seems to express a shadow of both these perspectives in Psa 71, neither of them is complete. Adopting the point of view of an elderly person, he reflects on his life. His prayer to God shows us that maturing in faith isn’t automatic.
The elderly man is respected by others, but he doesn’t trust in the honor that some ascribe to him. He knows that Yahweh is the source of his strength, and he praises Him continually: “I have become a wonder to many, but you are my strong refuge. My mouth is filled with your praise, with your glory all the day” (Psa 71:7).
Perhaps forsaken or looked down on by others, he makes a request for God’s presence: “Do not cast me away in the time of old age” and “even when I am old and gray, O God, do not abandon me” (Psa 71:9, 19). He continues to request God’s nearness: “O God, do not be far from me. My God, hurry to help me” (Psa 71:12).
Perhaps most poignant is the intensity of the psalmist’s trust in God. Even in his old age, though he has “leaned from birth” upon God, he can’t place his trust in his past years of faithfulness (Psa 71:6). His “praise is of [God] continually” (Psa 71:6). He also feels a responsibility to pass on the testimony of God’s works: “I will come in to tell the mighty deeds of Lord Yahweh. I will make known your righteousness, yours only” (Psa 71:16).
Maturity in faith isn’t awarded like a badge after we have put in our time. It’s not an achievement. The elderly man’s prayer acts as a testimony of God’s faithfulness—past and present. Maturity of faith is something you continue to “be” and “do” and “seek.”
How do you treat the elderly people in your life? What can you learn about God from them?
Rebecca Van Noord
May 11: Being Good at What Matters
Judges 20:1–21:25; Philippians 4:21–23; Psalm 72:1–20
Though prayer is important, it’s an area of our faith lives that we often neglect. But people of great faith in the Bible relied on prayer—and not just for difficult situations. From general direction to specific details, they turned everything over to prayer. God spoke to them directly, they listened, and then they act.
Maybe you don’t believe God speaks directly to you. If that’s the case, consider why you think this way. Why wouldn’t He want to speak to you? He chose you by sending His own son to die for you. Jesus, that son, said that God would come and speak to you (John 17). You’re important to God, and He wants to talk to you—to know you.
In Judges, we find a situation where people relied on God not just for direction, but for details. The Israelites rose up against the tribe of Benjamin because they refused to address the wickedness among them (Judg 20:12–14). But before entering battle, they inquired of God. They actually asked for the details of the plan: “ ‘Who will go up first for the battle against the descendants of Benjamin?’ And Yahweh said, ‘Judah will go first.’ ”
We often forget how important it is to ask God about the details—to seek His guidance in all things. Neglecting prayer is a huge mistake. We need God’s grace, the grace of Christ, to be with us always: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit” (Phil 4:23). Having the grace dwell upon us, and in us, in all things, requires a constant pursuit of Him. Rather than laboring over the details of your life alone, ask God.
What details in your life need to be worked out? Have you presented them to God and sought His voice?
John D. Barry
May 12: The Bible in the Developed World
Ruth 1:1–2:23; 1 Timothy 1:1–11; Psalm 73:1–10
In our developed world, we don’t consider famines very often. If there were a famine in our lands, we could navigate through it because of our importing infrastructure. This isn’t the case for the developing world: famines mean walking miles to find food and water, and often dying or suffering terrible violence just to stay alive. (Currently there are two major famines in Africa bringing these desperate situations to life.) When I used to read about famines in the Bible, I thought of hunger, but I didn’t necessarily think of pain and persecution. Now that I’m more aware of what’s happening in the world, stories of famine in the Bible are very vivid for me.
Consider Naomi, whose husband died during a famine, and the pain she must have felt over that loss and the loss of her two sons (Ruth 1:1–7). She was left with her daughters-in-law. As widows, they were completely desolate. Women were considered a lower class at the time; they could not own property and could not provide for themselves in an agriculturally based society. When I see photos of hurting women in the Horn of Africa, I’m reminded of Ruth and Naomi.
I think this is what the Bible is meant to do. We’re called to read it historically and culturally. But we’re also called to read the Bible with a sense of urgency about what’s happening in our world today. We know there is no end to extreme global poverty and unnecessary pain. We can’t rightfully imagine that those of us who have resources and who can help will have stepped up to eradicate these issues. But we can make the biblical story our story. We can feel their pain and think as they think. And we can act. Imagine God showing providence in your life like He did Ruth’s and Naomi’s, and then help those who need you.
What can you do today to make a difference in the life of a person living in extreme poverty?
John D. Barry
May 13: Shipwrecked
Ruth 3:1–4:22; 1 Timothy 1:12–20; Psalm 73:11–28
“I am setting before you this instruction, Timothy my child, in accordance with the prophecies spoken long ago about you, in order that by them you may fight the good fight, having faith and a good conscience, which some, because they have rejected these, have suffered shipwreck concerning their faith” (1 Tim 1:18–19).
Paul had experienced being shipwrecked multiple times in his life, and in this passage, he metaphorically ascribes his experience to that of people who turn from faith in Christ. The imagery of being shipwrecked captures the spiritual state of aimlessness that results from a misguided conscience—one that isn’t grounded in faith. Among those who experienced this shipwreck were Hymenaeus and Alexander, former believers who became blasphemers. They had known the truth of Jesus but were now publicly opposing it (1 Tim 1:20).
Paul admits he had once been a blasphemer himself, but he was “shown mercy because [he] acted ignorantly in unbelief” (1 Tim 1:13). In contrast, Hymenaeus and Alexander blasphemed deliberately by turning from the faith and opposing Paul, even though they knew about God’s grace through Christ.
In Psalm 73, the psalmist uses similar imagery when describing those who wickedly turn from God: “abundant waters are slurped up by them.” The psalmist’s line captures the attitude of these wicked people. They ask mocking questions: “How does God know?” and “Does the Most High have knowledge?” (Psa 73:11). Although they acknowledge God’s presence on some level, they fail to respond. They act in deliberate disobedience.
Following God isn’t optional in either big or small decisions. Paul warns Timothy that this “fight” includes making daily choices that align with faith and a good conscience. Certainly we will fail in following Him—that’s precisely why we need His grace so badly. But deliberately acting against what we know, when we’re aware of His grace, will only result in being shipwrecked.
Are you making deliberate decisions against following God? How has this harmed your relationship with Him? How can you align with His expectations for your life?
Rebecca Van Noord
May 14: A Sense of History
1 Chronicles 1:1–54; 1 Timothy 2:1–15; Psalm 74:1–23
When I was in sixth grade, my teacher assigned our class a family genealogy and history project. At first it was frustrating. It seemed like unnecessary work. But eventually I became obsessive over it as I discovered our family stories. Many of us share this same experience; we’ve uncovered ancestors who have done great things. Through this process, we can begin to understand not just these people of history, but also ourselves.
Although we may be especially interested in our own family history, who doesn’t skip (or at least think about skipping) the genealogies of the Bible? Even if we’re serious about reading biblical books front to back, we prefer to skip over the long lists of names. But that would be a mistake in the case of 1 Chr 1:1–54. This genealogy is about human history leading up to a monumental person: King David. The lineage also makes the book of Ruth incredibly relevant: Boaz, Ruth’s husband, shows up in the line (1 Chr 2:11–12), which indicates that God had a plan to enfold non-Israelites into His people long before Christ’s work brought about that result (e.g., Acts 2).
Just as our family history teaches us about the way we are, reading the Bible allows us to learn why David was the way he was. Through genealogies, we can learn about the heart and character of God and His intricate plan to save the world.
How does the sense of history conveyed in the Bible connect to your sense of history? How does it connect to the work Christ is doing in and through you today?
John D. Barry
May 15: Small Starts
1 Chronicles 2:1–55; 1 Timothy 3:1–7; Psalm 75:1–76:12
In Paul’s qualifications for overseers, he mentions a necessary trait for anyone who wants to lead in a community: “He must manage his own household well, with all dignity keeping his children submissive, for if someone does not know how to manage his own household, how will he care for God’s church?” (1 Tim 3:4–5).
Though Paul speaks to overseers, his words tell us something about our own witness. Living like Christ, showing grace, and acting with wisdom toward the people who are closest to us are often more difficult than serving on a larger scale. It’s more challenging to serve those who know our failings than it is to serve anyone else. By learning to be faithful in these relationships—by serving unselfishly and with dignity—we prove ourselves capable of serving others.
Paul understands that humility and love must be practiced at home before they can be adequately practiced in community. By extension, allowing ourselves to live an imbalanced or ungodly life will ultimately lessen our effectiveness elsewhere.
It’s easy to take the people closest to us for granted—to see them as facets of our own lives, helping us accomplish our own goals. Guiding these relationships takes maturity. And the fruits of those relationships will prove our ability to influence the lives of others.
Paul acknowledges that the desire to be a leader is a noble one. He isn’t trying to dissuade those who want to take on more responsibility; instead, he is trying to ensure that they’re adequately prepared and not prone to a major public meltdown. He is preparing them to succeed at an honorable task.
Think about two or three people who are closest to you. How can you better serve them?
Rebecca Van Noord
May 16: Dysfunctional Problem-Solving
1 Chronicles 3:1–4:23; 1 Timothy 3:8–16; Psalm 77:1–20
When I locate a problem, I often fixate on it. I think that if I analyze it enough, I can solve it. This is a problem when I come to difficult issues that require someone else’s expertise. Stubbornly, I want to figure out the problem myself. I want to be self-sufficient. When God is the only one who can solve my problem, I’ve just created an impossible scenario.
When the psalmist hit troubling times and questioned the things that were accepted truths in his life, he didn’t seek his answer from anyone but God. When he felt far from God and questioned all he had taken for granted, the questions he asks are close to those in our own hearts: “Why God? Have you removed your favor?” (Psa 77:7). “Has your steadfast love ceased forever?” (Psa 77:8). “Do your promises end?” (Psa 77:8).
It would have been tempting to dwell on his personal experiences to answer these questions. But instead, the psalmist turns to study God’s redemptive work. This seems counter-intuitive to us, but we find this practice throughout the psalms. Why doesn’t the psalmist simply address the problem at hand? He knew that to understand God’s work in the present, he had to look to the past. He had to consider God’s work in humanity—His wonders of old, mighty deeds, holy ways, and power among the peoples. Ultimately, though, the psalmist looks to God’s work of redemption in the exodus from Egypt. He needed a backward glance—a look at God’s faithfulness to His people in the past.
We have an even greater redemptive story than the exodus. When things seem to go wrong, when we question God’s plan for our life, we can look back to Christ’s work on the cross. We’re not leaving our story for another one when we do this; instead, we’re acknowledging Christ’s ongoing work in our lives through the Holy Spirit. His work sets our entire life in perspective.
When life seems complicated, don’t try to be self-sufficient. When your emotions dictate otherwise, take a backward glance at the cross and reckon in your mind and heart what is already true of God’s love for you. There has never been such a testament of His love. Then take a faithful step forward, trusting in Him.
How are you trying to be self-sufficient? How are you taking a backward glance at the cross and stepping forward in faith?
Rebecca Van Noord
May 17: Connecting Historical Dots
1 Chronicles 4:24–5:26; 1 Timothy 4:1–5; Psalm 78:1–12
Biblical lists can be annoying, but they’re also a testament to God’s faithfulness. It’s a true gift when someone in a faith community records the history of the group and their work—particularly when God has answered prayers. By looking through a recorded history, like a prayer journal, faith communities can see how God used them both collectively and as individuals. They can see where He interceded and begin to see how He intends to use them in the future.
God’s past faithfulness points to His future faithfulness. His specific dealings in the past point to likely dealings in the future: they show us what He has gifted us to do and thus the type of thing He is likely to call us to down the road.
First Chronicles 4:24–5:26 records God’s acts among His people and points to His future faithfulness. Similarly, Psalm 78:1–12 calls God’s people to hear their story told, but it’s really God’s story. The first account focuses on the individuals, whereas the second (Psa 78) recalls God’s work among a group of people. All of God’s work—among individuals and groups of people—is unique, but it is also interconnected. It is all a manifestation of His presence. Paul makes a similar remark to Timothy: “everything created by God is good and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thankfulness” (1 Tim 4:4).
Although God may manifest Himself in different and unique ways among individuals and groups, everything He does is for good—from the beginning until now (compare Gen 1; John 1). God desires for us to experience Him, as individuals and as members of faith communities, doing His good work. In being both, we come to understand what it means to truly follow Jesus.
How can you embark more fully into God’s great work, both in your own life and in a faith community?
John D. Barry
May 18: A Higher Calling
1 Chronicles 6:1–81; 1 Timothy 4:6–16; Psalm 78:13–29
It’s easy to get self-absorbed when we’re criticized—or when we think others are criticizing us. Because of our real or imagined defects, we start to believe other people don’t take us seriously. It’s easy to get off course in an attempt to defend ourselves.
As a young leader, Timothy may have dealt with criticism in the Ephesian community because of his age. Paul gives him advice: “Let no one despise you for your youth, but set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity” (1 Tim 4:12).
Paul doesn’t offer defensive solutions. Rather, he calls Timothy to be a living example of his teaching. He reinforces Timothy’s calling by encouraging him to stay focused on his call, speech, and conduct. By being the contrast to the rumors about him, Timothy thwarts criticism.
But Paul isn’t simply giving leadership advice. By reaffirming Timothy’s purpose and calling, he is helping Timothy focus on God’s work instead of his own abilities (or a defense of them). Paul doesn’t want Timothy to be guided by fear of others; he wants him to think about God.
We don’t have to be in a leadership position to experience this type of criticism or to respond in the way that Paul suggests. When feeling defensive or concerned about other people’s opinions, we shouldn’t be concerned about defending ourselves. We’re not intended to reaffirm our own stellar traits or abilities. That flies in the face of the gospel. Instead, we should act in a way that points people to God’s work, shifting both our focus and their focus to the one whose opinion truly matters.
Are your attempts at earning the respect or favor of others making you self-absorbed? How can you shift your focus to God and the work He wants you to do?
Rebecca Van Noord
May 19: Outline for Honor
1 Chronicles 7:1–40; 1 Timothy 5:1–9; Psalm 78:30–52
In most Western cultures today, we’ve lost our connection with the elderly. With one grandparent living halfway across the country and the others having died before I was born, I wasn’t around older people until I met my wife and her family. Unlike me, my wife had the privilege of knowing her great-grandparents. She has a strong sense of tradition and respect for the elderly, as well as a deep desire to help them in all aspects of life, and she has been able to teach me to do the same. Paul is dealing with a similar experience in his first letter to Timothy.
Paul says to Timothy, “Do not rebuke an older man, but appeal to him as a father, younger men as brothers, older women as mothers, younger women as sisters, with all purity. Honor widows who are truly widows” (1 Tim 5:1–3). By “honor,” Paul means showing a deep sense of concern and an earnest, regular desire to help them financially and with their daily needs. What Paul says is revolutionary for his time. It wasn’t that the elderly were disrespected culturally, but they weren’t sought out as teachers and people to help. Paul commanded not just equality in this scenario, but assistance and compassion. Widows, who were of the lowest rank of society, were to be loved as equals. And older men, at the higher rank, were to be respected for their understanding.
We don’t make these connections as readily in Western society. Instead, we see someone’s need as something to pray for, not to act on. And we see older men’s perspectives as simply “old guard” rather than a legitimate opinion we should take into consideration. Paul doesn’t say older people are always right, just as our fathers are not always right, but he does encourage Timothy to show them the respect they deserve “as a father.” Paul’s outline for honor was as powerful then as it is now.
How can you make the elderly and widowed a part of your life and church community?
John D. Barry
May 20: From Concept to Caution to Cause
1 Chronicles 8:1–40; 1 Timothy 5:10–17; Psalm 78:53–72
Some things in the Bible are downright surprising, including several passages in Paul’s letters. Sometimes his words are so personal or they’re addressed to such a specific person our group, that it’s hard to understand why that particular passage is there. But God uses people to do His work, and whatever they show or teach us sets a precedent—like how to deal with difficult people, or how to best help the poor.
Some sections of Paul’s letters are rarely read aloud in church; we simply can’t figure out how to apply them. What application can you draw from a long list of people, or from the very specific details of how to evaluate a widow in need in your community (1 Tim 5)? What if there are no widows in your community? Do you just move on?
First Timothy 5:10–17 sets a good precedent for us as Christians, and it can serve as a standard for applying other passages. We don’t know precisely why Paul told Timothy not to help widows “less than sixty years of age,” but we do know that he was setting criteria for evaluating and helping the poor (1 Tim 5:9). Other than children and previously freed slaves, widows were the most impoverished members of society in biblical times.
Paul provides further criteria that would prevent a handout-based culture, and would also require a widow to have truly been transformed by Jesus’ teachings (1 Tim 5:10). Helping the poor isn’t enough—they need spiritual help, too. Paul also cautions against those who abuse the system (1 Tim 5:11–13), acknowledging that it can actually cause more harm than good when the church helps them.
As the Church, we want to help. But there have been times when we have done more harm than good—both locally and globally, particularly in the developing world—by failing to understanding the power struggles at play in any given situation. This should not stop us from helping; instead, it should encourage us to be both fiscally wise and culturally educated before providing funds. Understanding what people are really going through and how to truly help them is nearly as important as giving.
Who is your community trying to help? How can you better educate yourself on their real needs and how to meet them?
John D. Barry
May 21: The Power of Words
1 Chronicles 9:1–10:14; 1 Timothy 5:18–6:2; Psalm 79:1–13
Gossip kills churches. And gossip is always painful, especially when disguised as concern. A request to “pray for so-and-so because of this thing they did” is not asking for prayer; it’s gossiping. If you know some personal detail about someone’s mishap, don’t share it with everyone—take it to God. Entire leadership structures have been wrongfully destroyed because of rumors starting this way.
Paul warns against rumors when he says, “Do not accept an accusation against an elder except on the evidence of two or three witnesses” (1 Tim 5:19). How often have we heard something and been so influenced by it that we accuse someone on the basis of that rumor? Hearing something may make it feel factual, but it’s circumstantial at best.
Although Paul is cautious, he has no tolerance for leaders who sin repeatedly, especially those sinning directly against the community. He tells Timothy to “reprove those who sin in the presence of all, in order that the rest also may experience fear” (1 Tim 5:20). The fear Paul means is a good kind; it keeps people from sinning. It’s not just a fear of getting caught, but an understanding that there are ramifications for the abuse of power or lack of godly conduct.
Paul is not creating a legalistic system here; instead, he is focusing on making people feel what God feels when they sin. They shouldn’t be consumed with guilt, but they should feel enough shame in their actions to realize that they need grace—that they need to step out of a leadership position if they misuse their power. Paul doesn’t demand that these people be cast out of the community. He requires that such leaders be reconciled to the faith community and be made an example so that others don’t do the same.
Paul’s entire framework is based on his assumption that leaders will be godly; he provided details for determining that standard earlier (e.g., 1 Tim 3:1–12). Leaders who fall short must be held accountable. And above all, leaders must be chosen wisely. If they live and conduct themselves in line with God’s work, they will have no need to fear accusations against them.
How can you help establish and support a correct leadership structure in your faith community? How can you help stop any false accusations or gossip?
John D. Barry
May 22: Motive Is Everything
1 Chronicles 11:1–47; 1 Timothy 6:3–10; Psalm 80:1–19
It’s not often that we take an honest look at our motivations. But it’s important to reevaluate them regularly. When our sight is not fixed on God, we might become entranced with goals that conflict with godliness. Even though we might initially be performing the right actions, our lives will start to reveal the motives of our hearts.
Paul addresses this issue within the Ephesian community, where some people were spreading conflict in order to further their own gain. And this wasn’t just a problem with the perpetrators. This “constant wrangling by people of depraved mind and deprived of the truth, who consider godliness to be a means of gain” was like poison, spreading envy and strife throughout the community (1 Tim 6:5).
To counteract this, Paul states that “godliness with contentment is a great means of gain” (1 Tim 6:5–6), but the gain he talks about is not success as we traditionally define it. Rather than financial riches, Paul presents the idea of complete contentment—of being satisfied with what we have and feeling secure in the life (both eternal and physical) with which God has blessed us (1 Tim 6:8).
This is not just a simple side issue. Paul states that “the love of money is a root of all evil” (1 Tim 6:10). When money becomes our guiding motivation, we’re very much tempted to be self-sufficient. Our motives become muddled, and we try to find our contentment in transient things. In contrast, when we’re completely satisfied in God, we won’t be tempted to conflicting motives.
Are your motives conflicted? How do you need to readjust your motives so that you desire godliness?
Rebecca Van Noord
May 23: Fear: The Fight against It
1 Chronicles 12:1–13:14; 1 Timothy 6:11–21; Psalm 81:1–82:8
Fear is poisonous. When it drives our decisions, it will slowly destroy us—causing us to make moves that are against God’s will and detrimental to ourselves and others. The antidote to fear is complete reliance on Yahweh, our God, and His work through the Spirit.
David is the epitome of someone who sets aside fear in favor of God’s work. He surrounds himself with “feared” men, his “mighty men.” The descriptions of their skills show the caliber of these warriors and thus the incredible character and skill it must have taken to lead them (1 Chr 12:1–15). It takes courage to be a leader and valor to be a leader of leaders. David was a man of valor—a man empowered by the Spirit’s work.
It would have been easy for David to worry or be concerned as a leader—especially when the Spirit comes upon a smaller group of men who oppose him. People rise up around him, and they are being chosen by God in a way he had been. But David isn’t concerned or resentful; instead, he affirms God’s work (1 Chr 12:16–18).
The Spirit empowers David again when he seeks out the ark of the covenant, which had previously been with God’s people as they went into battle and when they worshiped (1 Chr 13:1–4). In this moment, when David summons the people to undertake this task, he shows that he is not just a leader of great men, but a godly leader of great men. He understands that his own strength and skill will not carry him and his warriors. Instead, they must be guided by Yahweh. They must recover the ark that symbolized Him and His work among them, His very presence.
Rather than let fear drive him, David drives out fear in the name of His God. We should be people of the same character, showing courage and valor.
What is God doing through you? How can you allow God to banish the fears you have?
John D. Barry
May 24: On a Mission
1 Chronicles 14:1–15:29; 2 Timothy 1:1–2; Psalm 83
“We’re on a mission from God.” Whenever the Blues Brothers delivered this line, they were met with a less-than-enthusiastic reception. While they had a different “mission” in mind, their famous line summarizes Paul’s ministry, and their reception is strangely related to a pressing problem in our Christian communities today: we’re hesitant to receive those who tell us they’re on God’s mission.
When we hear this “line,” we immediately begin to ask questions inside our heads: Are they offering a critique? Making a threat? Telling us they’re pursuing a ministry role in accordance with the gifts God has given them, or that they want to be directed toward such a role?
Nearly all the godly people in the Bible were appointed directly by God or His messengers to a mission, and they were given very particular (and often unique) gifts to fulfill those missions. So when someone says they’re on a mission from God, we should respond with, “Tell me about it!” Consider passages like 2 Tim 1:1, where Paul addresses Timothy and the community he leads, many of whom never met Paul:
“Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God according to the promise of the life that is in Christ Jesus.”
Apostle means “sent one.” Paul was on a mission from God, and it’s because of Christ, the anointed one’s promises, that he embraces this calling. God called and gifted him to do His work and share His message. Who are we to say that God doesn’t commission people today? Of course, we should always be cautious and discerning; those in leadership must have proven their godly character and their ability to be used by God. They must also be confirmed by other godly leaders. Once this has been confirmed, we should encourage those called to a special mission. We, as believers, are called to work alongside them—to encourage them and help them serve what God, specifically, has appointed them to do.
We stumble when we think the Church is ours to lead; it is Christ’s. He is our leader and guide, and it’s by His Spirit that we will have the discernment necessary to do what He has appointed us to do.
How can you help those who are on a mission from God?
John D. Barry
May 25: Longing and Being
1 Chronicles 16:1–17:27; 2 Timothy 1:3–18; Psalm 84:1–12
The general sense of what worship “is” is widely known, but the specifics of what it means are a little vague. Aside from obedience (i.e., avoiding sin and following what God asks of us), there are specific ways to show God admiration. In 1 Chronicles, during David’s many great acts, we get a glimpse into ancient worship practices that are still applicable today. We know that the biblical “editors” favored these practices because they would later ascribe countless psalms to David. His way of worship was deemed “the way to worship.”
After David and his comrades journey to Obed-Edom to bring back the ark of the covenant—the symbol of Yahweh’s provision and advocacy for His people—David appoints “some of the Levites as ministers before the ark of Yahweh” (1 Chr 16:4). The Levites, the tribe designated as religious teachers, are first to “invoke” Yahweh (call upon Him). They are then to do what should be natural in all encounters with Him: thank and then praise Him. These are all acts of worship and the way to worship: acknowledge Him by calling on Him, be thankful for His provision, and then praise Him for who He is.
David illustrates another part of worship in His song that follows this event: “Save us, O God of our salvation; gather us and rescue us from the nations, that we may give thanks to your holy name and glory in your praise. Blessed be Yahweh the God of Israel, from everlasting to everlasting!” (1 Chr 16:35–36). David petitions God, and he calls others to acknowledge His work by making their own petitions. It’s not that God needs to hear how great He is—that is not why we worship. It’s that we need to be reminded. In humbling ourselves before Him, we are demonstrating our rightful place in His kingdom as His servants, appointed for His great works (Eph 1:11).
Worship is really about longing for God. Our attitude toward God should be as Psa 84:2 proclaims: “My soul longs and even fails for the courtyards of Yahweh. My heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God.”
How can you instill these worship practices into your daily life?
John D. Barry
May 26: A Longsuffering God
1 Chronicles 18:1–20:8; 2 Timothy 2:1–13; Psalm 85
God is longsuffering, but sometimes we take this for granted. How often have we given into temptation, expecting to be obedient at a later date?
Psalm 85 gives a testimony of God’s faithfulness in the past: “O Yahweh, you favored your land. You restored the fortunes of Jacob. You took away the guilt of your people; you covered all their sin. You withdrew all your wrath; you turned from your burning anger” (Psa 85:1–3).
As he experiences that judgment, the psalmist remembers God’s past restoration, and he hopes for it once more: “I will hear what God, Yahweh, will speak, because he will speak peace to his people, even his faithful ones”; he also sets a condition: “but let them not return to folly” (Psa 85:8).
Do we wait until bad times before we realize God’s amazing grace for us?
God’s faithfulness is also expressed in surprising moments in the New Testament, like Paul’s exhortation to Timothy. Paul tells him to be strong in grace and offers comfort while presenting a challenge: “For if we died with him, we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him; if we deny him, he also will deny us; if we are unfaithful, he remains faithful—he cannot deny himself” (2 Tim 2:11–13).
These passages portray a God who is incredibly patient. But they also present a sense of urgency and demand a response. If we acknowledge our sin and seek Him, He is faithful to forgive us. But we shouldn’t use His faithfulness as an excuse to delay our response. He wants our complete loyalty.
How are you responding to God’s calling in your life?
Rebecca Van Noord
May 27: Math: Maybe Not a Mystic Language After All
1 Chronicles 21:1–22:19; 2 Timothy 2:14–26; Psalm 86:1–87:7
In a world of metrics, it’s easy to become obsessed with statistics and start to quantify every aspect of our lives. Stats can even become a type of scorekeeping between churches or pastors: “We have more members than you do.” We may never say those words out loud, but we think them; more than one person has made the mistake of measuring a ministry based on attendance. But God has His own method for measuring success.
Prompted by an adversary (“Satan” is often better translated as “adversary” or “accuser” in the Old Testament), David decides to seek metrics—to count the people of Israel. This account illustrates the harm of seeking gratification or understanding in numbers. In 1 Chronicles 21, major problems emerge from this: including placing an adversary’s will above God’s and predicting God’s will rather than seeking it regularly.
Rather than counting our successes, we should be counting on God for success. We should also be tallying how often He is faithful rather than how many we are in number. We’re more likely to see God’s faithfulness when we’re looking for it rather than looking for probabilities. David succeeded as a warrior and king not because he deserved it, but because God chose for him to do so. In 1 Chronicles 21, David forgets God’s role, even though his (often wrong and bloodthirsty) general reminds him otherwise. In fact, God’s use of Joab as His messenger demonstrates that God’s providential will can come from the least likely places.
Keeping a tally isn’t necessarily a bad thing, and we shouldn’t avoid metrics and stats. But we need to keep information in perspective. It’s not about baptizing 200 people on a Sunday—although that’s a blessed thing. It’s about lives being transformed and people being blessed so that they can experience transformation.
How can you count on what God is doing instead of counting what you deem success?
John D. Barry
May 28: Through Despair
1 Chronicles 23:1–23:32; 2 Timothy 3:1–9; Psalm 88
Sometimes we go through dark periods in our lives where the misery feels never-ending. Trial hits, pain hits, and just when we think life might get “back to normal,” we are hit by yet another difficulty. At times like these, we may feel forgotten by God.
In Psalm 88, we find one of the most utter prolonged cries of despair: “O Yahweh, God of my salvation, I cry out by day and through the night before you,” the psalmist begins (Psa 88:1). This psalm never climaxes or hints of hope, and it ends even more desperately than it begins. The psalmist, feeling abandoned by God, has his loved ones taken from him. He is left to navigate the darkness alone (Psa 88:18).
How do we deal with our own misery when confronted by a tragic psalm like this? How should we respond to God?
We can start with what the psalmist, despite his prolonged suffering, acknowledges about God. Although his troubles are still present, he also recognizes God as his deliverer (Psa 88:6–9). He appeals to God’s reputation as a God of wonders, deserving of praise: “Do you work wonders from the dead? Or do the departed spirits rise up to praise you?” (Psa 88:10). He appeals to God’s loyal love, faithfulness, and righteousness: “Is your loyal love told in the grave, or your faithfulness in the underworld? Are your wonders known in the darkness or your righteousness in the land of forgetfulness?” (Psa 88:11).
The psalmist never comes to a place where he expresses even a glimmer of hope. But through cries, questions, and torment, he holds on to what he knows to be true about God. In his very cry, the psalmist acknowledges that God will be present in his situation. While the questions in this psalm remain unanswered, we see that the psalmist lives in the awareness that God cares and will eventually act. In the meantime, he places himself in God’s faithfulness.
We see a parallel situation in Paul’s letter to Timothy; Paul addresses the difficult days that will come. He says they will be difficult for one reason: disobedience. In those days, “people will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boasters, arrogant, slanderers, disobedient to parents, ungrateful, unholy, hardhearted, irreconcilable, slanderous, without self-control, savage, with no interest for what is good” (2 Tim 3:2–3). The list goes on further, describes all types of disobedience against God—something that is absent from the psalmist’s cries. What’s most fascinating about the parallel is that it hints at the root of what the psalmist is experiencing: disobedience may not be acknowledged in his cry (he is innocent), but the world is a disobedient place. It is full of sin and oppression. Ultimately, it’s the sins of humanity that brought pain to the world.
In this life, we’ll go through dark times and struggles that may never end. We may even feel forgotten. But despite what we think or feel, we can’t abandon what we know to be true of God. Even when our state or our emotions are contrary to the desire to worship Him, we are called to trust in Him and in His love.
If He was willing to abandon His only son on a cross to redeem you, then He is certainly trustworthy. If you trust in Him, He will not forsake you.
How are you trusting God through dark times? How are you reaching out to someone who is struggling?
Rebecca Van Noord
May 29: Blessed Sticky Notes
1 Chronicles 24:1–25:31; 2 Timothy 3:10–17; Psalm 89:1–22
A great friend of mine keeps sticky notes with prayer requests on a bathroom mirror. They serve as a reminder of the needs of others. This friend never seems to have an “off day” or feel sad about their particular situation. Maybe these notes play a part in that attitude, but that’s not why I find the practice remarkable. What astounds me is the effort to pray for others constantly. This person reminds me of God’s faithfulness in my life whenever things get tough, for me or others, and I’m grateful my name is on one of those notes. Otherwise, I think I would have lost my way several times already.
First Chronicles presents story after story of God’s faithfulness. The book records how God kept His people alive in the face of powerful adversaries, and it tells how God led David in his great appointment as king. Paul’s journey has several parallels with David’s. Just as the chronicler watches David’s narrative, as well as that of Israel in general (e.g., 1 Chr 24), Timothy watches Paul and the Christian church (2 Tim 3:10–17). Paul recounts to Timothy, “But you have faithfully followed my teaching, way of life, purpose, faith, patience, love, endurance, persecutions, and sufferings that happened to me in Antioch, in Iconium, and in Lystra, what sort of persecutions I endured, and the Lord delivered me from all of them” (2 Tim 3:10–11). Timothy is more than a colleague; he is a true friend.
What a joy it is to have someone in your life who watches “your story.” Think how our lives might be different if we had more friends who faithfully prayed for us and we faithfully prayed for them. Following God is not just a matter of listening to His guidance; it’s also being aware of how His faithfulness is playing out in the lives of those around us.
Who can you be praying for? How can you commit to being a blessing to them? How can you regularly remind yourself to do so?
John D. Barry
May 30: In Season and Out of Season
1 Chronicles 26:1–27:34; 2 Timothy 4:1–8; Psalm 89:23–52
I like to operate when I feel like I’m in control. When I haven’t gathered enough information or I feel uncertain of my circumstances, it’s tempting to avoid making a decision or taking action.
Paul knew that this type of outlook was detrimental to Timothy’s ministry. He tells Timothy that regardless of his circumstances, he was required to act: “Preach the word, be ready in season and out of season, reprove, rebuke, exhort, with all patience and instruction” (2 Tim 4:2).
Paul uses the certainty of Christ’s return to motivate Timothy to stick to his task (2 Tim 4:1). Although Timothy experienced times when it was not always convenient for him to act on his calling, he had been admonished by Paul about the importance of the work they were doing together: their calling. He also knew the urgency of that calling. Christ’s return and the appearance of His kingdom was their motivation (2 Tim 4:1).
We can’t follow God only when the timing is right for us. We also can’t rely on our own strength. When doing God’s work, we can never plan well enough or anticipate all the potential kinks; our plans will never be foolproof. It’s not the mark of a Christian to be certain of how everything will play out in every circumstance. The mark of a Christian is reliance on Christ as Savior, God, and guide. Through the clear and calm and through the fog, we’re required to trust, act, and follow on the basis of our certainty in Jesus. Like Timothy and Paul, we must be certain of our standing in Christ and the coming of His kingdom. And that changes everything.
Whatever the task and in every circumstance, we’re required to simply follow Jesus. We are charged to act for the gospel now, regardless of whether it’s convenient.
How are you trusting in your own strength instead of Jesus’? How can you be ready in the right way, in every season?
Rebecca Van Noord
May 31: Fighting Loneliness
1 Chronicles 28:1–29:2; 2 Timothy 4:9–22; Psalm 90:1–17
Loneliness is one of the most disheartening feelings a person can know. Being alone in a time of pain is even worse. Several recent surveys suggest that lonely people—especially teenagers—subtly reach out through their social networks, desperately looking for someone who cares. In a world where anyone can get attention online, we’ve moved away from authentic community. We continue to crave personal interactions—perhaps more so because we have electronic witness to the interactions of others. We as Christians should see this as an opportunity to reach out to disenfranchised, lonely people and show the love of Christ to others.
Paul’s second letter to Timothy illustrates how feelings of loneliness are amplified by pain. He makes one of the most candid statements in the Bible:
“At my first defense, no one came to my aid, but they all deserted me; may it not be counted against them. But the Lord helped me and strengthened me, so that through me the proclamation might be fulfilled and all the Gentiles might hear, and he rescued me from the lion’s mouth. The Lord will rescue me from every evil deed, and will save me for his heavenly kingdom, to whom be the glory forever and ever. Amen” (2 Tim 4:16–18).
Paul is angry and hurt, but he’s well aware that God has been and will continue to be his strength. He acknowledges that he needs and craves community, but he clearly states that God is foremost in his life. He then reminds Timothy of God’s work in his life and others’—ending with “Amen,” meaning “So be it.” Paul’s reliance on God’s past faithfulness bears a striking resemblance to a statement from Psa 90: “O Lord, you have been our help in all generations. Before the mountains were born and you brought forth the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, you are God” (Psa 90:1–2).
This psalm emphasizes that God always has and always will be a “help” to His people. While we can take comfort in that, we should make every effort—as people aspiring to live like Christ—to help others. For Paul found God not only in His provision of spiritual strength, but in the kindness of others.
How can you show God’s kindness and faithfulness to people who are lonely?
John D. Barry[1]
[1] John D. Barry and Rebecca Kruyswijk, Connect the Testaments: A One-Year Daily Devotional with Bible Reading Plan (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2012).
John D. Barry[1]
[1] John D. Barry and Rebecca Kruyswijk, Connect the Testaments: A One-Year Daily Devotional with Bible Reading Plan (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2012).