Today Daily Devotional

The first man was of the dust of the earth; the second man is of heaven.
— 1 Corinthians 15:47

Have you ever played the game “Grab the Bacon?” Two teams face each other in an open field, and a sock or towel (the “bacon”) is placed on the ground between them. A runner from each team races out to grab the “bacon,” and the one who brings it back gains a point for the whole team. The team’s success depends on one representative.Romans 5 teaches that our original “representative” was Adam (Genesis 2-3). And when Adam sinned, we all lost, taking on the curse of sin and death. But God sent a second Adam, Jesus. And for all who trust in him, Jesus puts right what Adam put wrong.The first Adam bore God’s image but marred it, seeking self-exaltation. The second Adam, Jesus, is the true image of God, “the exact representation of his being” (Hebrews 1:3), and Jesus puts his Father first.The first Adam gave in to temptation and lies. The second Adam, Jesus, defeated temptation by declaring the truth (Matthew 4:1-11). The first Adam brought misery. The second Adam brought mercy, forgiveness, reconciliation, and life everlasting.Jesus is the representative head we need.Have you heard him calling? He says, “Follow me!” (Matthew 4:19; John 21:19).

Dear Jesus, thank you for showing us how to live. Thank you for the victory you have won for us. Guide us to follow you as our head. We owe everything to you. Amen.

“They will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”).
— Matthew 1:23

After the First World War, British soldiers returned from the front lines devastated. Many were shell-shocked, disfigured, wounded, and scarred.Among the pastors who ministered to those hurting veterans was Edward Shillito. He wrote a poem, in 1919, in which he speaks as a soldier, seeking God. The poem expresses dismay and doubt: “The heavens frighten us; they are too calm. . . . Our wounds are hurting us; where is the balm?”Yet it shows that in seeing the scars of Jesus, Immanuel, hope and faith can be restored: “To our wounds only God’s wounds can speak, And not a god has wounds, but Thou alone.”For any of us who is suffering, we need to see Jesus, the one true God who came to be “with us” and who offered his life as the ultimate sacrifice for our sake. “By his wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5). Scripture proclaims this holy mystery: God is not distant from us, sealed off, light years away. He is “with us.” Wounded, abused, with his flesh ripped open, “like one from whom people hide their faces” (53:3)—that’s Immanuel.What a holy mystery it is that the risen Jesus bears eternal scars on his eternal flesh (John 20:19-29). “He had to be made . . . fully human in every way . . . [to] make atonement for the sins of” us all.

See the scars. Scars of pain. Scars of victory. Scars of Immanuel. “Oh, love, how deep, how broad, how high”! Thank you, Jesus, for becoming “God with us.” Amen.

“Jesus is ‘the stone you builders rejected. . . .’”
— Acts 4:11

Rejection. We see it when grandparents are cut off from grandkids over politics. Or when siblings haven’t spoken in years. In the church, a difference in conviction can be met with a cold shoulder, and a cutting off of friendship.Rejection hurts. I remember a group question: “What is the worst pain that people have known?” Some participants said, “a torn ACL,” “childbirth,” “kidney stones.” But one woman replied, “Relational pain is the worst, because bodies heal faster than hearts.”The God of the universe knows relational pain. Scripture says that Jesus “came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him” (John 1:11). His family members thought he was crazy; his hometown ran him out (Mark 3:21; 6:4). The Son of God lamented all of this, saying, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem . . . how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing” (Luke 13:34). Jesus told parables about feasts that people would not come to and about a father rejected by both of his sons (Luke 14:16-24; 15:11-32).Rejecting Jesus continues today. We reject Jesus when we are ashamed to stand up for him or his words. Or when we fail to pray or take time with him.Let us return to Jesus—who bore rejection for us so that we can have forgiveness and new life. And may we be peacemakers and forgivers too.

Lord Jesus, forgive us when we snub you or act ashamed of you. May we honor you in all we do and say—whether in public or in private. Amen.

A man of suffering, and familiar with pain . . . he took up our pain and bore our suffering. . . .
— Isaiah 53:3-4

What gives hope when our hearts break?Five years ago, my sister-in-law, only 47 years old, died of a brain-stem tumor. I helped to care for her and her young family during six years of decline, dementia, hospice, and devastating pain. At times like that, many of us may wonder, “Where is Jesus? Does he even care? We can do nothing. He could do something—and yet it seems like he stays away.”The Lord gave me a gift in an unexpected place—a passage in a C. S. Lewis children’s book. A boy’s mother is dying. The boy seeks help from the Christ figure, Aslan. Aslan doesn’t heal in that encounter, but he shows the boy his heart, even great tears, showing that he hurts as much as the boy himself. I needed that insight.Perhaps you know how lonely and terrible grief is. Perhaps you have wondered if God cares.In Jesus, we see the tears and the heart of God. Jesus’ heart went out to a grieving widow whose son had died (Luke 7:13). He wept with Mary at her brother’s tomb (John 11:35). Jesus is gentle with the hurting: “A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out” (Matthew 12:20). Jesus suffered, for our sake, all of the pain and sorrow caused by everyone’s sin. And he promises to remove all mourning and crying and pain when he comes again (Revelation 21:4).

Lord of bruised, smoldering hearts, thank you for your tears. Thank you also for the promise that our tears won’t last forever. Amen.

“I am among you as one who serves.”
— Luke 22:27

When I began attending a university, I was amazed at a group of seniors (one of them my future sister-in-law) who invited the university president to come to a dorm apartment for a meal they had prepared. I was even more amazed that, important as he was, the president said yes. But the thing I’ll never forget is that when the meal was over, the president insisted he be the one to wash the dishes.This was an “old school” president whom I had never seen apart from his dress suit and tie, but he set aside his suitcoat, rolled up his crisp white dress sleeves, borrowed an apron, and scraped lasagna bits into the garbage. He scrubbed every dish in that sudsy water and gave us all a picture of how a servant-leader acts.God himself, greater than any university president, chief executive, or other leader, became “one who serves.” In Jesus, God-in-flesh got down on his knees, took the posture of a slave, and held in his hands the feet of his followers, who would betray, reject, and abandon him. He served them, washing their feet (John 13).Jesus also served us by going to the cross and laying down his own life to save ours. By his shed blood we are freed from the debt and the curse of sin.In Jesus’ teaching to his disciples, we can hear his call to us, in effect: “Do you understand what I have done for you? . . . Now go in my name and serve others.”

Humble King, we worship you. You have shown us what real leadership is. Make us servants like you, we pray. Amen.