Today Daily Devotional

Simeon took him in his arms. . . .

— Luke 2:28

When Jesus was about six weeks old, an old man cradled him in his arms. In some ways that seems such an ordinary thing to do. It’s what many of us want to do with a little baby—to hold that bundle of new life close, to hear the breath, to feel the warmth, to gaze into the bright, wondering eyes.

The old man has high hopes for this helpless baby. Somehow this baby will shine with glory in the midst of his own people, Israel. And he will be the way out of darkness for all peoples (Genesis 12:3). He will be salvation from God, salvation so desperately needed in a world of sin and sorrow.

These hopes and expectations did not come to the old man out of nowhere. The Spirit of God had been speaking in his heart, giving him hope that he would see the Messiah, the King of Israel. And when the Spirit prompted him, he went to the temple. And there he saw a baby, just a baby.

But instantly the old man Simeon knew. He knew that God’s great rescue plan centered on this child. He knew that somehow this powerless infant, who couldn’t talk or walk yet, would be the ­answer to the world’s greatest need. And that child is still the ­answer today.

Jesus, we don’t expect much from little babies, though we do have our hopes and dreams for them. But what dreams your heavenly Father had for you! Amen.

Though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor.

— 2 Corinthians 8:9

The apostle Paul says Jesus was rich. Of course. He was God, after all. But it’s not that God has a fat bank account or lives on a private island. So perhaps Paul means “rich” in some other way. And when he says Jesus became poor, does that mean “poor” in some other way, some unusual way?

Luke describes a time when the whole family went to Jerusalem. Jesus was about six weeks old. It was time for Mary to offer a pair of post-childbirth sacrifices at the temple. The usual offerings were a lamb and a pigeon (or maybe a dove). But instead Mary offered either “a pair of doves or two young pigeons.” And that was okay, because there was a special allowance for families that couldn’t afford a lamb. So Joseph and Mary and Jesus must have been poor—in the usual way.

I wonder what that meant for Jesus. I wonder what he experienced growing up poor.

One thing that often goes with poverty is food insecurity. Plenty of people go to bed hungry. Maybe you do. Did Jesus know that kind of hunger, the hunger that comes from not having enough food, that comes from being poor? Is that why he taught his disciples to pray for “daily bread”—because in his experience, hunger was never far away? I wonder.

Jesus, you know what it means to be poor and hungry. You know what some of us know very well, but that many of us can only imagine. No wonder we’re hungry for you. Amen.

God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.

— Genesis 1:3

In the Bible the human story begins with a man, and then a woman. The human story of Jesus begins with a woman, Mary. And then Jesus himself begins, as a baby.

It’s wonderful to picture baby Jesus all wrapped up and in Mary’s arms. But think about this. Jesus is the eternal Word, the Word through whom every­thing was made, the Word that said, “Let there be . . . ” But now the Word is a human being, a newborn baby. Do we realize what this means? It means the Word can’t speak anymore.

Like any newborn, baby Jesus doesn’t know language yet. He will need to listen first—especially to his mother, and also to his father. Slowly he will discover that words have meaning. Eventually he’ll start to speak for himself. He’ll know only a few words at first: “Immah” (mother) and “Abba” (father). And then a flood of words will come, and it won’t stop. Like most mothers, Mary will sometimes wish Jesus had never started talking!

Imagine. The Word that spoke in the beginning loses its voice. It has to go back to the beginning that we experience as ­humans. And it has to learn the same way we did, one word at a time.

Language is a wonderful gift. And Jesus shares it with us.

Jesus, to whom should we turn, but to you? “You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:68). You are the Word, who is life. Amen.

The Word became flesh. . . .

— John 1:14

It sounds simple: “The Word became flesh.” In other words, the Word became human, as ordinary as any of us. That sounds simple enough—until we know who the Word is. Then it becomes simply astonishing.

John fills in the blanks for us. He starts with the timeless exis­tence of the Word: “In the beginning was the Word.” Then he connects the timeless Word with God: “The Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Next John relates the divine Word to creation: “Through him all things were made.” But that’s not all. The Word is also the source of all human flourishing: “In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind.” And the Word is unconquerable: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

All of this is big-deal stuff. And this amazing, extraordinary Word becomes flesh, becomes Jesus. The timeless, life-giving Creator of all becomes as ordinary as any of us. There’s nothing simple about that. And it remains a great mystery.

But here is something especially amazing. When the Word becomes flesh, the glory of God becomes visible in a new way: “The Word became flesh. . . . We have seen his glory. . . .” Just imagine—a human being shining with the glory of God. How wonderful is that?

Jesus, you are the Word of God, and yet you are as ordinary as we are. That is so amazing! Jesus, show us what it really means to be human. Amen.

She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger. . . .

— Luke 2:7

At the very heart of Christmas we find a rag-wrapped baby lying in a makeshift crib. By itself, that’s not so unusual. Babies show up when and where they happen to be born. Mothers have to deal with it, ready or not. And they do, whether the baby is delivered in a hospital, in a taxicab, or on a kitchen floor.

What’s unusual here is not the rags. Mary improvised, using what was available. And what’s unusual is not the manger. That was just a smart solution to an urgent need. No, what’s unusual here is the baby ­himself.

Now, this baby has the usual number of fingers and toes. You just know that Mary counts them. This baby has the usual smooth, soft skin. You just know that Mary adores his little cheeks. And this baby makes all the usual sounds: coos and gurgles and wails. You just know that Mary takes in these sounds as sweet ­music.

What’s unusual about this baby is not his actual flesh and blood, not his appearance, not his behavior. No, what’s unusual about this baby is the identity veiled by his helpless human form. Because this baby is the God “through [whom] all things were made” (John 1:3). This is a wonder.

Son of Mary, help us to wonder as we wander through your story this month. Deepen our faith as we encounter your genuinely human glory. Amen.

“You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus.”

— Luke 1:31

No one expected it—not Joseph, and certainly not Mary. A child before marriage. A son conceived without having sex, however that might work. He would be a holy child, someone set apart to God. He would be the Son of God, whatever that might mean. That’s what the angel told Mary.

Naturally, Mary asked how this would happen. The angel said the Holy Spirit would come upon her. Who ever heard of such a thing? Joseph and Mary expected that any child they might have would be a gift from God. But they sure didn’t expect this.

Though their son would be conceived in an extraordinary way, he would be born in the usual way. He would eat and sleep in the usual way. He would grow up in the usual way. And he would learn the family trade in the usual way.

For a long time, there wouldn’t be much unusual about their son. Not until the Holy Spirit, who would come upon Mary, would also descend on their son (Luke 3:22). The Spirit would send their son on a mission to be the Savior of the world.

That mission would unfold in ways no one expected. But their son would keep moving forward. With a generous heart, with a courageous spirit, and with toughened soles, he would stick to the path of that mission for the glory of God.

Jesus, you are the pioneer and perfecter of faithfulness. Your feet walked the path ahead of us. May our feet keep moving as we walk along behind you. Amen.

“Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day.”

— John 6:54

In John 6, Jesus compares himself to the manna that the Israelites received in the desert (see Exodus 16). Then he says that if anyone wants eternal life, they must eat his flesh and drink his blood.

Was Jesus proposing that his followers literally eat him? No.

But perhaps Jesus wanted his words to be shocking to get people’s attention. Eating human flesh in a literal way would have been barbaric. But since Jesus’ eternal life was somehow symbolized in his flesh and blood, which he would give as an atoning sacrifice for human sin, his followers needed to be willing to receive his sacrifice into themselves by faith in order to receive eternal life.

After Jesus died and rose from the dead, death had no hold on him anymore. And yet he surprised his disciples by showing them the marks from the wounds in his hands and side. It was as if Jesus was saying, “This is the cost of human sin.” But with his hands outstretched and showing the marks of his crucifixion, he was also saying, “I love you this much.”

When we come to the meal Jesus gave us, we receive his body and his blood in a symbolic way and in a spiritual way. The Holy Spirit connects us to the risen, flesh-and-blood Jesus in heaven, and we are connected anew with his once-for-all sacrifice for us.

Lord Jesus, we praise you for your sacrifice, which gives us full, eternal life with you. Help us to live for you each day. Amen.

When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him. . . .

— Luke 24:30-31

This story in Luke 24 is mysterious. During the previous week, Jesus had eaten his final Passover meal with his disciples and had washed their feet. Then he had been arrested and crucified. But on Sunday morning some women who had gone to visit his tomb had said they had seen Jesus, alive!

Now two of Jesus’ followers were walking along the road to another town, and a stranger joined them. They told him of the tragic events of the previous week. The man then shocked them by teaching from the Scriptures that all these things had to happen to the Messiah, the Savior of God’s people.

When they reached the town, the two invited the man to stay with them. As they began to eat together, the man “took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them.” Then “their eyes were opened and they recognized him”— their Lord Jesus was alive! And then he disappeared.

The two said later that their hearts were “burning within” them as Jesus walked with them and taught them from the Scriptures. But it was not until he broke the bread that he became known to them.

Similarly, our hearts can burn within us as we learn the Scriptures, and we can walk with Jesus in the power of his Spirit. But at the Lord’s Supper we can encounter the Lord in a profound, unique way.

Lord Jesus, thank you for revealing yourself in the breaking of bread. Fill us with your life to live for you. In your name, Amen.

“Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.”

— John 13:14

John 13 shows us that during Jesus’ final Passover meal with his disciples, he got up and washed their feet. This was ordinarily the job of a slave or a servant. And in that day, people wore sandals and walked along dusty roads with animals. Filthy feet could ruin people’s appetites at a holiday meal.

One of my seminary professors encouraged his students to pay attention to the verbs describing Jesus’ actions in this passage. In these verbs we get a picture of Jesus’ mission and purpose. Jesus “got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist”—and he proceeded to “wash his disciples’ feet.” Then, afterward, “he put on his clothes and returned to his place.”

What is the bigger picture? Jesus got up from his heavenly throne, took off his heavenly glory, and wrapped himself in our flesh and blood. Through his life, death, and resurrection, he washed away his people’s sins. Then he ascended to heaven, put on his heavenly glory, and returned to his place with God on the throne.

Through the power of the Spirit and by following Jesus’ example, we too can serve one another at the Jesus-meal and wherever he calls us to go.

Dear Jesus, our King who became a slave for our sake, we praise you for this story that humbles us, inspires us, and empowers us for service in your kingdom. In your name we pray. Amen.

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.

— John 1:14

One fundamental truth of God’s long history with human beings is simply this: God loves to be with people.

In the beginning, God walked with humans in the garden (Gene­sis 3:8). And when Adam and Eve disobeyed God and invited chaos into God’s good world, God went to find them when they hid from him.

When God rescued his people from slavery in Egypt, he journeyed with them in cloud and fire, and God literally pitched his tent, the tabernacle, in the center of their community.

When we first hear of the coming Messiah in Isaiah 7:14, we learn that he will be called Immanuel, which means “God with us” (Matthew 1:23). And when Jesus entered human history, taking on our flesh and blood, John 1 says he “made his dwelling among us.” The literal wording there is that he “pitched his tent,” or “tabernacled,” among us. And now the Lord has sent his Spirit to live in us—and to move among us in our dysfunctional churches.

Being together and eating together is a sign of welcome, respect, and a desire for peace. Jesus eats with everyone: religious leaders, tax collectors, prostitutes, the rich, the poor—all kinds of sinners.

At the Lord’s table, Jesus invites all kinds of flawed, broken, sinful people to eat with him. God loves to be with us.

Lord, thank you for coming to live with us, and for sending your Spirit to live in us, giving us your life. May we live for you. Amen.