Today Daily Devotional

God saw all that he had made, and it was very good.

— Genesis 1:31

Careful readers have noticed that God’s creation in Genesis 1 looks like a temple. A temple is a place where heaven and earth meet. So in Genesis 2-3, God comes to the creation-temple to interact with his creatures.

Careful readers have also noticed that God’s temple in 1 Kings 6-7 looks like crea­tion. God was present in the temple, and once a year the high priest could be there too (Leviticus 16).

Sometimes people say that the creation was perfect, until sin messed things up. Well, sin did mess things up. It still does. But the creation was never perfect. It was just very good. There isn’t perfection until the end, until there is a new heaven and earth.

In the new heaven and earth, there will be no temple (Revelation 21:22) because the new heaven and earth won’t intersect at just one place. Instead they will be united as one new reality. In this new reality, the home of God is with humanity. That’s how God wants things to be and has always wanted things to be—with heaven and earth united.

The incarnation reflects this intention. Jesus himself is the new temple (John 2:19-21). Jesus himself is where heaven and earth meet. And in his person, God and humanity are united. That’s not just very good. It’s perfect.

Holy Jesus, you have made it possible for God and humanity to live together. Even more, you have made it real. How perfect is that? Amen.

Jesus . . . was made lower than the angels for a little while.

— Hebrews 2:9

Nobody likes to downgrade. Balding men want more hair, not less. Techies want a faster computer, not a slower one. And we all want better relationships, not worse ones. But the eternal Son of God downgraded to the nothingness of being human (Philippians 2:7). Imagine that.

There is glory and honor to being human. It’s about what God made us to be: wise rulers over all creation. Sadly, that glory and honor have been tarnished by our persistent rebellion against God.

We are made in the image of God. This is a glorious thing, and it allows us to serve God in ways that no other creature can. But we let it go to our heads. We act as if we own the place. We use it and abuse it however we want. But the truth is, our world belongs to God.

Jesus restores the shine to being human. Unlike the rest of us, he is no petty tyrant. Instead he came “to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). And he was “crowned with glory and honor” for doing so (Hebrews 2:9). In fact, God exalted him to the highest place in heaven. And from there he rules wisely over all creation (Philippians 2:9-11), as human beings are meant to do.

Jesus, there are things about being human that we would gladly give up. But you have shown us how extraordinary we are meant to be. Help us to keep our eyes on you. Amen.

“Will you give me a drink?”

— John 4:7

John 4 tells about an encounter between Jesus and a Samaritan woman at a place called Jacob’s well. Through their conversation something of the glory of Jesus is revealed. It’s enough to convince the woman that Jesus is the Messiah. And more conversations convince many ­others that Jesus is the promised Savior. Extraordinary!

Here’s how it starts. Jesus is bone tired. So he sits down by the well while his disciples go into town to buy food. He’s obviously hungry, but that will have to wait till the disciples return. Meanwhile, he’s thirsty. So when a woman comes to get water from the well, he asks her for a drink. That’s how their conversation begins.

It’s all so ordinary and human. Of course Jesus is tired. Of course he’s hungry. Of course he’s thirsty. He’s human, after all—like us in every way, with the same basic needs that have to be satisfied every day.

Jesus is not disguised as a human. He is fully human, just as he is fully God. And nothing about his humanity sets him above common human experiences—even ordinary ones like fatigue, hunger, and thirst. This will be true of him until the day he experiences the ulti­mate reality of being human: that we are vulnerable to suffering and death.

Jesus, most of our lives are so ordinary. Most of your life must have been ordinary too. So you understand us completely and love us totally. And we thank you for that. Amen.

“Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!”

— Mark 4:41

Superheroes have super­powers: X-ray vision, shapeshifting, mind control. Some­times we think of Jesus as a superhero. He does seem to have superpowers: multiplying loaves, stilling storms, even raising the dead.

Jesus also seems to have special knowledge: about Nathanael sitting under a fig tree (John 1:50), about a Samaritan woman’s relationships (John 4), about Peter’s upcoming denials (Mark 14:30). All of this is far beyond our abilities. So we figure that Jesus’ divine nature must poke through his human nature from time to time.

But I wonder. Could it be that Jesus is able to do all of these things not because he is God but because he is a human being filled with the Holy Spirit?

When Nathanael calls Jesus “the Son of God . . . the king of Israel,” he means Jesus is the Messiah. The Samaritan ­woman reaches the same conclusion. Messiah means “anointed one.” And the anointing is by the Holy Spirit of God. The same Spirit anointed prophets who multiplied food supplies and even raised the dead (1 Kings 17; 2 Kings 4).

Jesus is not a superhero. He is a person, God and human, who has a full measure of the Holy Spirit empowering his mission. As he tells the people from his hometown: “The Spirit of the Lord is on me . . .” (Luke 4:18). That’s super enough.

Jesus, we don’t need super­heroes. We have you. You save us from evil powers and even from our own sin. Thank you. Amen.

“This is my Son, whom I love. . . .”

— Matthew 3:17

When Christians say Jesus is the Son of God, we mean that Jesus is God. But in the Bible, “Son of God” means something unique as well.

In Psalm 2:7, God tells Israel’s king, “You are my son.” So “son of God” refers to Israel’s king. And when Luke gives a family history for Jesus, it goes all the way back to Adam, who is called “the son of God” (Luke 3:38). In the Bible, the human story starts with Adam. So “son of God” refers also to a foundational human being.

When Jesus is baptized, the voice from heaven says, “This is my Son.” God could be making a theological statement, identifying Jesus too as God. But considering what’s ahead for Jesus, that he will be acclaimed and crucified as Israel’s king, could God also be identifying Jesus as king? And since Jesus is still dripping wet, with his clothes clinging to his body, might God also be identifying Jesus as a foundational human being, a new Adam, as a fresh start for humanity?

God and king and human—maybe it all comes together at the river, with the sky torn open, the Spirit descending, and God claiming with pride, “My Son!” I wonder.

Jesus, Son of God, there is more to you than we realize. You are many things all at once. And you are wonderful. Amen.

“Who made you ruler and judge over us?”

— Exodus 2:14

Moses grew up comfortably while his own people were slaves (Exodus 2). One day he tried to break up a fight between two of those slaves. And one of them said, “Who made you ruler and judge over us?” We might say, “That’s easy—God did. Moses was God’s appointed leader over Israel.” But Moses was actually jumping the gun. Because God would not appoint him till after another 40 years!

We tend to jump the gun when it comes to Jesus. We are often too impatient to let him be a human being as ordinary as any of us. For example, when he is young, we think of him as Israel’s Messiah. But Jesus will not be the Messiah for another 30 years.

Don’t worry. This doesn’t take anything away from Jesus’ ­divinity. Messiah (or Christ) is not a divine title. It’s a title for a human being with a special, God-appointed task. Messiah means “anointed one.” To be anointed is to be called and empowered to fulfill a God-given role.

When he was baptized, Jesus was anointed by the Spirit of God, “descending on him like a dove,” to be Messiah. At the same time, he was claimed by God, the voice from heaven, as Messiah. After living for 30 years as an ordinary human being, the time had come for Jesus to fulfill his destiny as Savior of the world.

Jesus, how your life changed when you were anointed that day! Yet you embraced your calling faithfully, and you never turned aside. You did what none of us could ever do. Thank you. Amen.

Jesus the Son of God . . . has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin.

— Hebrews 4:14-15

Hebrews 4 says that Jesus was “tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin.” Do we believe that? Oh, we can believe the “he did not sin” part. But do we believe that he was “tempted . . . just as we are”?

We know what temptation is all about—from the temptation to tell little lies as children, to the temptation to give in to our surging hormones as teenagers, to the temptation to turn a blind eye to racism as adults. Was Jesus really tempted the same way we are?

Well, Jesus did have teenage hormones. And he probably noticed all the pretty girls in Nazareth. Maybe he even thought about being in love with one of them. But he didn’t let desire get the better of him and lead him into sexual sin.

Another temptation we face comes from money. Jesus had a lot to say about that. But before he said any of those things, Jesus had worked with his hands and had been paid for his labors. He had learned the value of money and the good it could do to provide for his household. But he didn’t let money rule his life.

Maybe when we’re tempted, we can imagine how Jesus would handle it, and we can try to do the same thing. We can also ask for his help. (See 1 Corinthians 10:13.)

Jesus, it’s hard for us to believe that you were tempted. Temptation can be overwhelming for us, and we often give in. At times, we can hardly imagine not giving in. Please, Jesus, help us. Amen.

Isn’t this the carpenter?

— Mark 6:3

The gospel books (Matthew, Mark, Luke, John) focus on Jesus’ public ministry. For a period of three years he taught about the kingdom of God, healed the sick, fed the hungry, and even raised the dead. But before any of that, for about thirty years, Jesus lived in the family home. And for most of those years, he worked alongside his father Joseph in the family trade.

We think of Joseph as a carpenter, someone who worked with wood. But he may have been a stoneworker. The original language is not clear. What is clear is that Joseph was a builder of some sort. So he worked with his hands and with tools: perhaps making farm implements and furniture, or laying foundations. And Jesus did the same thing for probably about twenty years. The gospel books barely mention it. But they do give us that much.

Now, when Jesus began his teaching ministry, people for miles and miles around came to know him as a teacher and wonder-worker. They were in awe of him. But to the people in his hometown, he was just a guy who worked with tools in his hands. They couldn’t get beyond that.

We have the opposite problem. We know Jesus as the Son of God. And we can lose sight of his genuine humanity. But for most of his years, Jesus lived a life as ordinary as anyone’s, like yours or mine.

Jesus, you are the holy Son of God, and we praise you. You are also the ordinary son of Joseph, with tools in your hands—and to us that is wonderful. Amen.

Jesus grew in wisdom.

— Luke 2:52

Twelve-year-old Jesus scares the wits out of his parents. And no wonder. They think they’ve lost him—the holy child that God entrusted to them!

After three days, they find Jesus at the temple. He’s sitting there with the teachers: listening and learning, asking questions and giving answers. And everyone is amazed.

Of course they’re amazed. Jesus is God. He knows more than any of those teachers. He knows everything. That’s what we might think. But that really won’t do. What’s going on here is that Jesus is amazing for a twelve-year-old.

Something else is going on too. When Jesus’ parents find him at the temple, Mary scolds him: “How could you do this to us?” But Jesus doesn’t get it: “You should have known I would be at the temple.”

Twelve-year-old Jesus has a problem. He hasn’t figured out how to put together his sense of obligation to his heavenly Father with his obligations to his earthly father and mother. There’s nothing wrong with that, nothing sinful about it. It’s simply beyond the wisdom of a twelve-year-old—even the twelve-year-old Jesus—to know how to balance those competing obligations.

That’s okay. Jesus won’t be twelve forever. And as he grows up, he will grow in ­wisdom.

It’s not easy being twelve. We know so much and understand so little. And we can’t wait to grow up. Jesus, you know all about growing up. Help us to grow up in you. Amen.

He had to be made like them, fully human in every way. . . .

— Hebrews 2:17

In the Christmas song “Hark! the Herald Angels Sing” we might recognize the words “veiled in flesh the Godhead see; hail the incarnate Deity.” And if we’re in a thoughtful mood, we might wonder at the mystery of the Word becoming flesh, of God becoming one of us.

In a sermon years ago, I ­quoted from a song called “One of Us.” In its own way, the song wonders about the incarnation: “What if God was one of us? Just a slob like one of us?” I got in trouble for that. I was told, “God is not a slob!” Well, of course not.

Yet there is something scandalous about the incarnation, isn’t there?

We know what it’s like to be embodied creatures. Sure, there’s the “glory and honor” of being human (Psalm 8:5): the beauty and strength and intelligence. But there’s also the other side: the homeliness, the weakness, the aches and pains. And there’s the harsh truth that sometimes we are slobs.

That’s why we can’t imagine God really becoming one of us. God is lovely and lofty, perfect and pure. How could such a God get mixed up in the mess of being human, as ­human as any of us? But that’s the truth and the scandal of the incarnation. The eternal Son of God abandons the perfections of divinity to take on the flaws of humanity. And he does it out of love.

Jesus, we can hardly imagine what you gave up to take on what we know in our bones. But that’s what you did for us, and we are amazed. Amen.