LETTING EVIL BURN

Numbers 19:1–20:13; 1 Corinthians 2:1–16; Psalm 18:13–30 “And Yahweh spoke to Moses and Aaron, saying … ‘let them take to you a red heifer without a physical defect …. And you will give it to Eleazar the priest, and it will … be slaughtered in his presence. Then Eleazar the priest will take some of its blood on his finger and spatter it toward the mouth of the tent of assembly seven times. The heifer will be burned in his sight; its skin, its meat, and its blood, in addition to its offal, will burn’ ” (Num 19:1–4). This passage is so strange and gruesome, it is clearly symbolic. The heifer represents the perfect, unblemished sacrifice—which takes care of some (not all) of the purification associated with things Yahweh deemed unclean for the purpose of teaching His people obedience, and some of the results of sin (Num 19:9). Also, the heifer is burned because it has to be made into ashes. This beautiful creature becomes ashes. That’s the cost of an impure life: good has to become worthless. The only way to purge impurities is to burn them away. Then what has been purified through fire (and then water) can be used (Num 19:9–10). The passage goes on to describe several uses associated with this practice (e.g., Num 19:11–13). All of our lives include things that go against God’s will, and these things must burn. We must let the Spirit work in us to empower us to remove them. And there’s good news for this: Jesus has already done the great work of conquering sin in the world. There is no more need for the red heifer because Jesus’ sacrifice (His death) paid for our problems. He wasn’t the symbol of the sacrifice, like the heifer; He was the sacrifice itself. God calls us to the great race of running toward Him—for Him—in honor of what Christ has done among us. So let’s let the evil burn. What is God calling you to burn? John D. Barry and Rebecca Kruyswijk, Connect the Testaments: A Daily Devotional (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2012).

LEANING ON THE EVERLASTING ARMS

Elisha A. Hoffman, 1839–1929 The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms. (Deuteronomy 33:27) When close friends or family members turn to us for comfort in their grief following the loss of a loved one, often we find it difficult to express just the right words of consolation. One day successful author, business man, and devout Presbyterian layman Anthony J. Showalter received sorrowful letters from two different friends, telling him of their recent bereavements. In sending messages of comfort to them, Mr. Showalter included Deuteronomy 33:27— “The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms …” As he concluded his letters the thought occurred to him that this verse would be a fine theme for a hymn. Almost spontaneously he jotted down the words and music for the refrain of this soon-to-be favorite. Feeling that he should have some assistance in completing a text based on this comforting verse from Deuteronomy, Mr. Showalter asked his friend Elisha A. Hoffman, a pastor and author of more than 2,000 gospel songs, to furnish the stanzas. The hymn then was published in 1887 in the Glad Evangel for Revival, Camp and Evangelistic Meetings Hymnal. It is not surprising that “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms,” with its assurance of God’s steadfast care and guidance and the peace that is ours as we enjoy the intimacy of His fellowship, has been another of the gospel song favorites enjoyed by all ages. Each day we need to relearn the truths of these words: What a fellowship, what a joy divine, leaning on the everlasting arms; what a blessedness, what a peace is mine, leaning on the everlasting arms. O how sweet to walk in this pilgrim way, leaning on the everlasting arms; O how bright the path grows from day to day, leaning on the everlasting arms. What have I to dread, what have I to fear, leaning on the everlasting arms? I have blessed peace with my Lord so near, leaning on the everlasting arms. Chorus: Leaning, leaning, safe and secure from all alarms; leaning, leaning, leaning on the everlasting arms. For Today: Psalm 17:8; Psalm 57:1; Psalm 91:2; Proverbs 14:26; 1 John 1:7 When the events of today seem difficult, or even overwhelming, apply the lesson of leaning on “those everlasting arms,” as you learn to rest and relax in His loving care. Share the truth of Deuteronomy 33:27 with another needing encouragement. Use this little musical message as your theme song for today Kenneth W. Osbeck, Amazing Grace: 366 Inspiring Hymn Stories for Daily Devotions (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications, 1996), 87.

THE DISCIPLINE OF DISMAY

And as they followed, they were afraid. Mark 10:32. At the beginning we were sure we knew all about Jesus Christ, it was a delight to sell all and to fling ourselves out in a hardihood of love; but now we are not quite so sure. Jesus is on in front and He looks strange. “Jesus went before them: and they were amazed.” There is an aspect of Jesus that chills the heart of a disciple to the core and makes the whole spiritual life gasp for breath. This strange Being with His face set like a flint and His striding determination strikes terror into me. He is no longer Counsellor and Comrade, He is taken up with a point of view I know nothing about, and I am amazed at Him. At first I was confident that I understood Him, but now I am not so sure. I begin to realize there is a distance between Jesus Christ and me; I can no longer be familiar with Him. He is ahead of me and He never turns round; I have no idea where He is going, and the goal has become strangely far off. Jesus Christ had to fathom every sin and every sorrow man could experience, and that is what makes Him seem strange. When we see Him in this aspect we do not know Him, we do not recognize one feature of his life, and we do not know how to begin to follow Him. He is on in front, a Leader Who is very strange, and we have no comradeship with Him. The discipline of dismay is an essential necessity in the life of discipleship. The danger is to get back to a little fire of our own and kindle enthusiasm at it (cf. Isaiah 50:10–11 ). When the darkness of dismay comes, endure until it is over, because out of it will come that following of Jesus which is an unspeakable joy. Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest: Selections for the Year (Grand Rapids, MI: Oswald Chambers Publications; Marshall Pickering, 1986).

A PSALM OF CONFIDENCE

Numbers 15:1–41; John 20:1–31; Psalm 16:1–11 “You are my Lord,” the psalmist acknowledges. “I have no good apart from you” (Psa 16:2). We know that God is everything we need, but somehow the details still get in the way. We want to alleviate our troubles through other means—that vacation, the position that will bring recognition, or the spouse who will complete us. The psalmist says that anyone who places their desire in anything other than God will only increase in sorrow (Psa 16:4). It seems radical and difficult to live out the psalmist’s simple confession. The ancient practice of idol worship is alive and well in our modern-day culture and in our own hearts. (Just look at the magazine rack or TV shows if you think I’m wrong: what is worshiped there?) We are just like the Israelites—unfaithful and prone to “hurry after another god” (Psa 16:4). For the psalmist, however, “Yahweh is the portion which is my share and my cup” (Psa 16:5). He is all the psalmist ever needs: “I have set Yahweh before me always. Because he is at my right hand I will not be shaken” (Psa 16:8). God brings the psalmist hope, and He can do the same for us. We just need to turn to Him. Today, pray the words of Psalm 16: “You are my Lord. I have no good apart from you.” How can we remind ourselves that He is all we will ever need? REBECCA VAN NOORD John D. Barry and Rebecca Kruyswijk, Connect the Testaments: A Daily Devotional (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2012).

NOSTALGIA: MY OLD FRIEND

Numbers 14:1–45; John 19:17–42; Psalm 14:1–15:5 Regret and nostalgia can destroy lives. They are mirrored ideas with the same pitfalls: neither can change the past, and both keep us from living in the present. When we live wishfully rather than interacting with the present, we’re bound to miss out and hurt others. Since other people don’t necessarily share our feelings about the past, they feel less important to us here and now. And indeed, we’re making them less important. We’re concerned instead with how things could have been or used to be. This is precisely what happens after the Israelites flee Egypt: “Then all the community lifted up their voices, and the people wept during that night. And all the children of Israel grumbled against Moses and Aaron, and all the community said to them, ‘If only we had died in the land of Egypt or in this desert!’ ” (Num 14:1–2). As usual with regret and nostalgia, these words were said in frustration but born out of fear: “Why did Yahweh bring us into this land to fall by the sword? Our wives and our little children will become plunder; would it not be better for us to return to return to Egypt” (Num 14:3). And their fear even takes them to the next level of disobedience against God’s will—they will overthrow Moses’ leadership: “They said to each other, ‘Let us appoint a leader, and we will return to Egypt’ ” (Num 14:4). Nostalgia is dangerous: it causes us to forget the wretchedness of the past and exchange it for fond memories. We begin to focus on the good things and drift away from obedience in the process. Regret, too, is dangerous, as we wish we had never ended the good times but kept on living the life that was never good for us to begin with. This scene in Numbers illustrates a profound point: collective memory enables regret and nostalgia to create mob rule instead of God rule. What memories are you holding too dearly? How are they holding you back from the life God has for you now? JOHN D. BARRY John D. Barry and Rebecca Kruyswijk, Connect the Testaments: A Daily Devotional (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2012).

IN THE MOMENT OF WEAKNESS

Numbers 11–12; John 18:1–24; Psalm 11–12 All leaders have their moments of weakness. But without such times, they wouldn’t stretch themselves (and that would mean they weren’t really in God’s will). It’s not that these moments shouldn’t happen, but we should turn to God when they do. Moses dealt with more than his fair share of people getting upset with his leadership, and he felt weak as a result. He didn’t always handle these situations correctly, but in Num 11 we see a glimpse of what an amazing leader he really was. The people were upset because they didn’t have meat to eat and were (once again) wishing they were back in Egypt. They were considering going against God’s will, and at least with their words, they were already doing so. Moses responded by telling God about his frustrations: “Moses heard the people weeping according to their clans … Then Yahweh became very angry, and in the eyes of Moses it was bad. And Moses said to Yahweh, ‘Why have you brought trouble to your servant? Why have I not found favor in your eyes, that the burdens of all these people have been placed on me?… If this is how you are going to treat me, please kill me immediately if I find favor in your eyes, and do not let me see my misery’ ” (Num 11:10–11, 15). God uses moments of weakness to create strength. He took the burden of leading off Moses alone and divided it among the people. In doing so, He made all the people accountable together for their actions (Num 11:16–23). God may have been angry about their disobedience, but that didn’t stop Him from listening to His servant, Moses, and graciously responding. God wants to interact the same way with us when we bring our burdens to Him. In what ways are you feeling weak as a leader? What would God have you do? JOHN D. BARRY John D. Barry and Rebecca Kruyswijk, Connect the Testaments: A Daily Devotional (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2012).

Jesus Christ (Meant to be) The Superstar

Numbers 10:1–36; John 17:1–26; Psalm 10:1–18 Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical, Jesus Christ Superstar, is certainly incorrect (and rather heretical) in its portrayal of history, but it got one thing right: Jesus is meant to be the celebrity. He—no one else—is the Savior, the Christ, the Lord. And that’s why the celebrity pastor movement is quite frightening. I don’t say this as a cynic, and it’s not that I’m primarily concerned with how these teachers are marketed (although that, too, can be scary at times); I’m worried about the way they’re received. Certainly there are people who can be trusted more than others, and popularity is by no means a measurement of trustworthiness. But automatically agreeing with everything a teacher says puts the disciple in a bad position with the God they worship. It also puts the teacher in a position similar to an idol. Teachers who truly follow Christ would never desire such glory for themselves. In the Gospel of John, we see Jesus glorified by the Father. Jesus was obedient to the Father, even to death, which is why He alone is worthy of our worship. “I have glorified you on earth by completing the work that you have given me to do. And now, Father, you glorify me at your side with the glory that I had at your side before the world existed” (John 17:4–5). True teachers of the gospel want commitment—not to themselves, but to Christ and His cause. Jesus prayed: “Righteous Father, although the world does not know you, yet I have known you, and these men have come to know that you sent me. And I made known to them your name, and will make it known, in order that the love with which you loved me may be in them, and I may be in them” (John 17:26). In what parts of your life is God asking you to make a statement similar to Paul’s? What teachers are you adoring too much? JOHN D. BARRY John D. Barry and Rebecca Kruyswijk, Connect the Testaments: A Daily Devotional (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2012).