Today Daily Devotional

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.

I saw a Lamb, looking as if it had been slain, standing at the center of the throne. . . .
— Revelation 5:6

A large painting in my living room takes up half a wall. It portrays a lion and a lamb lying down together. My mom painted it in 1973, back when she had two baby boys and would soon have a pair of girls too.I often notice the posture of those two animals my mom painted. The lion looks submissive to the lamb, and the lamb’s little leg rests atop the lion’s mighty forepaw. The lion looks squarely at the lamb, while the lamb looks straight at the viewer.I think this painting captures something of how Scripture portrays Jesus. Jesus is called both a lion and a lamb in our Bible passage for today. But one image is clearly dominant. Jesus is called “Lion” only once. But there are several references to Jesus as “the Lamb” (and more in other Bible passages). The picture of “the Lamb” is the one we most need to see about Jesus.For God’s Old Testament people, the sacrifice of a lamb signaled redemption for their sin and guilt. The innocent substitute died in the place of the guilty. When John the Baptist pointed out Jesus to others, he said, “Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29).On the cross, our salvation was not accomplished by muscle or teeth or claws. It was accomplished through the shed blood of a perfect and gentle sacrifice.

O Lamb of God, we love you. Wash us in your precious blood, Lord Jesus. Thank you for your sacrifice once for all to pay the debt of our sin. In your name, Amen.

“I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry. . . .”
— John 6:35

In a book titled The American Paradox: Spiritual Hunger in an Age of Plenty, David Meyers wrote: “We buy more, but enjoy it less. We have more food and less nutrition; fancier houses, but broken homes. We have added years to life, not life to years.”Enter Jesus, the one who was born in Bethlehem (“house of bread”) and was laid in a manger (a food trough for animals). (See Luke 2:4-7.) Jesus’ life gave this message: “You are hungry. I am bread. I can satisfy you with myself.”Are we feeding on Jesus? He is the bread of life for gnawing, hungry souls.In 1860, two explorers—Robert Burke and William Wills— set out to cross Australia. They died on their way back, however, after using up all their supplies and trying to survive on nardoo, a clover-like plant.They thought nardoo could save them. But apparently they failed to prepare it properly, and an enzyme in it gave them a vitamin deficiency. They ate bowlfuls of nardoo each day, but they grew weaker and thinner and died.Let’s look at the menu of our lives. Our jobs, resumes, social calendars, entertainment options, phones, and even ministries can seem to fill a hunger, but without Jesus it all ends in emptiness. Isaiah 55:2 asks, “Why spend your money on what is not bread?” Only Jesus, the bread of life, can satisfy the hunger of our souls.

Lord Jesus, thank you for giving us yourself as the bread of life we need every day. Fill us, we pray, and help us to trust you for all our needs. In your name, Amen.

“The deliverer will come. . . .”;
He . . . shared in their humanity so that by his death he might break the power of him who holds the power of death . . .
— Romans 11:26; Hebrews 2:14

My son David, at age 3, found a picture that captivated him. He’d bend over it on the floor and look, and look. The picture was of a wood carving from an old altar in Europe. The carving showed Jesus kicking down the gate of death.One night during a storm, the power went out. The boys had been in bed for a while, but now there was no nightlight. It was dark. Scary dark. I checked on them, listening outside the door. I heard David singing. He apparently knew only two phrases and kept singing them over and over: “I will rejoice, I will rejoice and be glad in it, and be glad in it. . . .”I listened a bit and then opened the door to go in. But before I got far, David sat upright in his bed and said, “Show me the picture, Mommy— the kickin’-down- the-door picture.” He had obviously been thinking about the Jesus carving as he lay in that dark place. And I think that image of Jesus—the deliverer kicking down the door of death and mightier than any of our fears—prompted David to sing his song in the night.David preached a sermon to my heart. When we are in a dark and scary place, we can still sing songs if we remember Jesus—who he is and what powers he has overcome in his saving love for us.

Jesus, thank you for delivering us from sin and death—and from every dark fear. Be our song in the night. Amen.