1 Corinthians 15:36

John Brzenk became the world arm wrestling champion in 1983 and didn't lose an arm wrestling match for the next twenty-five years. In the Documentary Pulling John follows his decision about whether or not to retire as he approaches age forty. The main story line of the film, though, is the collision course of Alexey Voyevoda (a Russian giant) and Travis Bagant (an American braggart), two young challengers to Brzenk's throne. Both men revere Brzenk and understand that they must each go through the other to get to Brzenk's level.

At the world championship in 2003, Voyevoda and Bagant met in the super heavyweight final. In a huge upset, Bagent soundly defeated the heavily favored Voyevoda. If  you're familiar with stories like this, you know what happened next. Bagent got even cockier, while Voyevoda went back to Russia to work out. It's during these Russian post-loss scenes that Voyevoda discusses sling, what it means to him, and how acceptance of the loss can bring greater strength. At a critical point, one of his coaches says, "If you're strong, losing can make you stronger."

It is only from deaths that new lives are born. Voyevoda begins to know himself as someone who can lose, and, through that knowledge, gains strength. When he meets Bagent again, with the winner to face Brzenk, it's not close.

Martin Luther said that the cross was the end of us. Losing to Bagent was the end of the invincible Alexey Voyevoda. A new life was created. It was this new creation that dominated Bagent and moved on to face Brzenk.

It is when we are shown our need, which happens exclusively against our will, that we reach out for a Savior. Let us recognize that need today.

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Helping people live life with Jesus everyday,

 

Isaiah 49:1-2

Imagine that you are an arrow in God's quiver. If you were to try to do God's work for Him, it wouldn't go well. An arrow can't do any good if it tries to wriggle away from the archer and do the work on its own. Even if an arrow could jump out of the quiver, somehow hop up to a target and hit it, it would just bounce harmlessly off.

Now imagine an arrow in the hands of a skilled archer. The arrow needs to do nothing but remain in just the form that the archer made it. It is the archer who sharpens the arrow and the archer who hides it away in the quiver. It is the archer who takes the arrow out of the quiver and the archer who puts it in the string. It is the archer who uses his strength to pull the arrow back, and the archer who aims. Finally, it is the archer who decides when to release the arrow. Only then will the arrow hit the target and stick. The arrow needs the strength of the archer to accomplish its purpose. If I were to ask you who did the work, the archer or the arrow, what would you say? If I tried to tell you that it was the arrow that did the work, you'd call me crazy. The archer is in control at every point, from sharpening the arrow to sticking it into the target.

How is it that we are to be servants of God? How can the arrow best be the servant of the archer? The way for us to be the best servants of God is to realize that he doesn't need us to do His work at all. He chooses to use us. A true servant is used by the master, the same way an arrow is used by the archer, to accomplish his purposes. Thankfully for the arrow, it is the archer who does all the work. And thankfully for us, it is God who is in control.

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Helping people live life with Jesus everyday,


 

Proverbs 30:8

What people want to hear from a religion and what they need to hear are two very different things. I want to hear that I am fundamentally good, fundamentally in control, and fundamentally on the right track. I also want to hear that the problems I experience in my life are the result of outside forces and can be overcome by following a short number of simple steps. In essence, I want to hear that it's all good, and that if I start feeling life becoming less good, I can easily right the ship.

I don't think it's any coincidence that many large churches in America proclaim this kind of message. Tell people what they want to hear, then the people and the money roll in.

The problem with this "what I want" refrain is that it can't actually help me. When my life starts sliding off the rails, it's all well and good to go to the handy self-help manual (Ten Steps to Financial Security, Eight Steps to Recovered Relationships, or the like), but it becomes decidedly less "well and good" if the manual lets me down. What happens when I follow the ten steps and still find myself financially insecure? Or when I follow the eight steps and they only serve to further alienate my family?

As it turns out, I need something different than what I want. I need the truth.

What people need to hear from religion is an accurate diagnosis of their condition. Wanted Religion can't offer a profound solution because it refuses to diagnose a profound disease. Needed Religion recognizes our plight and can offer a weighty cure: a Savior who substitutes Himself for us.

It will probably always be true that Wanted Religion will rake in the money; it's offering a much more desirable front end. Needed Religion, however, will be there when the bankrupt devotees of Wanted Religion need somewhere to turn and have no money left to buy their way in.

Today, revel in a God who gives us what we need: a Savior.

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Helping people live life with Jesus everyday,

 

Numbers 21:4-9

The Israelites are in the middle of their years wandering in the desert, looking for the Promised Land, and they're impatient. They complain about the lack of good food and water, and they wish they'd never left Egypt in the first place. God, hearing their complaints, sends poisonous snakes among them, and many of the Israelites get bitten and die.

Ah, the joys of the Old Testament. Am I right? Complain about how God's treating you? Here are some poisonous snakes! So the people come back to Moses and they say: "We have sinned by speaking against the Lord and against you; pray to the Lord to take away the serpents from us." So Moses prayed for the people. And the Lord said to Moses, "Make a poisonous serpent, and set it on a pole; and everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live." So Moses made a serpent of bronze, and put it upon a pole; and whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze and live."

There are a lot of foreshadowing elements in this story. Jesus references it in John 3 when He says that He, too, must be lifted up. In the same way that the elevation of the snake on a pole is the avenue for the Israelites' salvation, Jesus' hanging on a cross is the way in which eternal salvation comes to the world.

A particularly fascinating thing about this story is that God chooses the serpent to be the image lifted up on the pole - the very thing that is killing the people. Again, He is foreshadowing the final act of His plan of salvation. Jesus, who knew no sin, because sin on the cross so that we might become the righteousness of God. The very thing that is killing us - sin - is laid on Jesus and lifted up on the cross. The bringer of death - the serpents and the cross - becomes the way of life.

Today, know that Jesus took your sin onto Himself and gave you His righteousness, so that you might live, and live forever.

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Helping people live life with Jesus everyday,


 

Psalm 40:1-2

Psalm 40 was made popular by King David before it was made popular by U2. "I waited patiently for the Lord; he inclined to me and heard my cry" (v. 1). This is the first step in a beautiful, poetic, and short description of the story of God's action in human life. This is the trademark of human life - waiting and crying. That might sound dark to some, but to those who have lived through it, who are familiar with grief, struggle, and tribulations, the poet has connected to our very core with his first lines.

"I waited patiently for the Lord; he inclined to me and heard my cry." The poet suggests a God who hears our cries and then springs into action. It's much more than a sympathetic ear: he stoops to us.

As is often the case, however, God goes above and beyond. He doesn't merely stoop to hear our cries; He rescues us from our despair.

"He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He puts a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God" (vv. 2-3). Here, the poet is describing the profound result of human interaction with God. As always, just as it is God who stoops to those of us who cry, God is again the actor here. He drew me up...He set my feet...He made my steps...He put a new song in my mouth. Our action is to wait and to cry. God's action is to stoop down and rescue. We go from existing in the pit of destruction and the mud of the swamp, to having our feet set on a rock, our footsteps firm, and with a new son on our lips.

Galatians 1:3

In his commentary on Galatians, Martin Luther makes a beautiful observation in response to Paul's letter-opening prayer, "Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ" (v. 3). Luther says that Paul chose those words carefully, and that those "two words, grace and peace, contain all that belongs to Christianity." He says that "grace forgives sin, and peace makes the conscience quiet."

Despite our efforts to achieve peace through a host of other methods - sound financial planning, righteous behavior, whatever - Luther contends that Paul's claim is that true peace can only come through grace. He says elsewhere that our "quest for glory can never be satisfied. It must be extinguished." In other words, there is no plane to which you could ascend at which you couldn't imagine being more peaceful. The grass is always greener, and all that.

The fact is that, because of Christ's saving work, we actually have been given peace through grace. Luther goes on to say that although the words are simple, "during temptation, to be convinced in our hearts that we have forgiveness of sins and peace with God by grace alone is the hardest thing." And this is true to human Christian experience, right? When faced with a situation, to accept that our standing with God is secure even if we make the wrong choice is next to impossible. This is why our consciences are so often troubled. We just flat out can't really believe that God will be graceful to us, and we therefore cannot have peace.

This is why it is important for Paul to begin his letter by wishing the Galatians grace and peace through God and Jesus Christ. This is why it's important for all of us to hear it every week, every day, every minute.

Today, let us begin with grace and peace. Peace is the thing that, left to our own devices, we would spend all of today seeking. Instead, let us remember that, in Christ, true peace is already ours, through grace.

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Helping people live life with Jesus everyday,

 

Luke 13:6-9

What should a farmer do with a fig tree that doesn't bear figs? Well, he should cut it down, right? That ground can be used for better use, some plant that will actually bear fruit. When Jesus tells the parable of the barren fig tree, though, the tree has an advocate. A vinedresser speaks up for the tree and offers to personally care for it for a year. He tells the owner of the vineyard that if there are still no figs next year, he will cut down the tree.

Don't you get the feeling that the vinedresser knows better? He knows that with some love and attention, that tree is going to bear fruit. Some people see only the law in this little parable: if you don't bear fruit, you risk being thrown out of the garden. Have you ever felt this way? That God is the owner of the vineyard and He comes around every day to inspect the fruit that you are - or aren't - producing? Are you terrified that, one day, you'll be found lacking and cast out of the garden? These are very common sentiments. It's important to note, though, that this isn't what happens in the story.

In the story, the vinedresser intercedes for the barren fig tree. On its own, the tree isn't going to bear fruit, and really will be thrown out of the garden. But with the careful attention to this garden, the tree will do fine.

Under the law, we are all barren fig trees. Our fears that our fruit will be insufficient are well founded. But we can cast our hope on the vinedresser, Jesus Christ. He steps in and takes personal responsibility for us. Whatever fruit we bear is, according to Paul in Galatians 5:22-23, the "fruit of the Spirit," which he contrasts with the barrenness we bring to the table.

Today, remember that the presence of fruit in your life is not your doing and that you, therefore, cannot take credit for it. But it's also true that the absence of fruit in your life is not something that can separate you from God's love.

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Helping people live life with Jesus everyday,