Do You Really Know Him?

Check out your life. Most people think that God looks at where you are along the road of life. We do that, but God doesn’t. God asks only two things—where you have come from and where you are going.

I may be a lot more terrible than you, but the point is we’re moving in the same direction. You’re just further down the road than I am. God’s pleasure and our assurance come from moving in that right direction.

If you were to wake up tomorrow morning to discover that God didn’t exist, what difference would it make in your life?

If you were to wake up tomorrow morning to discover that God didn’t exist, what difference would it make in your life? Even in the face of your pain, struggle and suffering, would you rather not have known him?

Your Love

“For God is not so unjust as to overlook your work and the love which you showed for his sake in serving the saints, as you still do…” (Hebrews 6:10).

The writer of Hebrews is not just talking about a tingle up your spine or a love song. He is talking about love in action, the kind of love you show to the saints, for God’s sake. Love really isn’t a noun. It’s a verb. What do you do to show love for someone else? When you give a cup of cold water in the name of Christ, regardless of how you feel about that person, that giving is love. When you reach out to a brother or sister in need, no matter how you feel about them, that is love too. The writer of Hebrews is saying that you, as a Christian, have a love that you have shown (not that you have felt). That is a sign of your relationship with Christ.

“Greater love has no man than this: That a man lay down his life for his friends and you are my friend” “At the right time, Christ died for the ungodly.” Love in action. That is on the road to assurance.

Your Service

When you and I became Christians, at that point we gave up every right. We are servants. As a Christian, you have privileges, but you shouldn’t presume on those privileges. If your Christian faith is used for the manipulation of other people, it’s not the real thing. If your Christian faith is a vehicle for being a master, it’s not the real thing.

Jesus said, “He who would be greatest among you must be your servant.”

When you see yourself willing to be a servant, willing not to get the credit, willing to just stand behind somebody else and make them great, then you are on the road to assurance.

Your Concern

If you’re looking for assurance of your salvation, check out your concern. “And we desire each one of you to show the same earnestness in realizing the full assurance of hope until the end…” (Hebrews 6:11).

When people asked Spurgeon how they could know if they were of the elect, he would answer, “If you are worried about it, then you are.” Now if you have been struggling with assurance, plagued with the constant thought of “I may not really belong to God,” the very fact that you thought about it is a good sign that you belong to him.

You may remember the demonstration of Solomon’s wisdom in 1 Kings. Two women were brought to him, both claiming to be the mother of one baby. Each of the mothers had had a baby, but one baby had died. One mother said to Solomon, “Her baby died and at night she came, switched the babies, and took mine.” The second mother made the same accusation. So they went to Solomon, asking him to determine to whom the live baby really belonged. Solomon had one of his servants take a sword and hold the baby up. Then Solomon said, “Split the baby in half. Give half to one mother and half to the other mother.” While one of the mothers agreed that his idea sounded reasonable, the other mother said, “No! Don’t do it. Give the baby to her.” Solomon, at that point, exercised a principle built into the very nature of things…

Concern is manifested in direct proportion to how much you care.

If you are concerned about your relationship with Christ, if you are earnest about it or diligent, it is an indication that you are on the road to assurance.

Your Longing

Check out your longing. The writer of Hebrews is saying, “I desire you to come to that point at which you know that you know that you know that you know.”

There are those who say that you can never know. They say that the only way you can get assurance is to die and find out whether or not your feet are cold. If you have heard or believed that, you have believed a lie. It is God’s desire that his people come into a relationship with the Father that is so close we know and feel secure with him.

I have a friend who adopted a teenager who had been moved around from foster home to foster home. When I first visited them, he was just jumping up to do everything. He made his bed. He dried the dishes. He vacuumed the house. (Whenever a teenager is that good, there is something wrong.) It finally dawned on me why. This boy had been kicked out of so many homes that he planned to hold on to this one by being good.

A year later, I went back to visit the family again. The teenage son was then one of the most secure young men I had ever seen. He was relaxed and normal. He had to be nudged to do the things he was supposed to do. What happened? He had achieved assurance…assurance that his new mom and dad weren’t going to kick him out.

We’re like that.

Maybe right now you’re working very hard at being obedient. Maybe right now you’re feeling scared inside that you really aren’t a Christian. What should you do? Persevere and keep on trucking. One day, you will become so tired of obedience, tired of holding on so long that your knuckles turn white, that you then let go. At that moment, you will make the wonderful discovery that God was holding you all along. You will know that you know him. And that is called assurance.

Time to Draw Away

Read John 10:28-29 & Romans 8:14-17

Do you struggle with assurance? How does “try-harder, do-more religion” help or hurt? God’s grace has you covered. God’s not mad at you. God holds you…not the other way around. Your salvation is safe and secure. So feel free to rest in that fact.

Erik Guzman

As the Day Begins

Mark 7:24-30 reads: From there he arose and went away to the region of Tyre and Sidon. And he entered a house and did not want anyone to know, yet he could not be hidden. But immediately a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit heard of him and came and fell down at his feet. The woman was a Gentile, a Syrophoenician by birth, and she begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. And he said to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” But she answered him, “Yes, Lord; yet even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” And he said to her, “For this statement you may go your way; the demon has left your daughter.” And she went home and found the child lying in bed and the demon gone.

Morning Meditation

In this passage, we witness a poignant encounter between Jesus and a Syrophoenician woman—a narrative rich with themes of faith, humility, and the inclusivity of God’s mercy. This woman, a Gentile, approaches Jesus in a state of desperation, seeking deliverance for her daughter. Her approach to Jesus, marked by both humility and persistent faith, underscores a   spiritual truth: the Kingdom of God is open to all who seek it earnestly, regardless of their background or status.

The dialogue between Jesus and the woman may initially appear harsh, but it reveals a deeper lesson about the nature of God’s grace. Jesus’ reference to the children’s bread and the subsequent response by the woman highlights an important spiritual insight: God’s blessings, though seemingly reserved for a chosen few, are abundantly available to all who show true faith. This woman’s faith was so strong that she believed even the smallest blessing from Jesus could heal her daughter. This passage invites us to reflect on the depth of our own faith. Are we willing to pursue Jesus with the same fervor and humility? It also reassures us that our faith, no matter how small it might seem, can lead to   healing and blessings.

Prayer

Heavenly Father, In the quiet of this morning, I draw near to You, reflecting on Your boundless grace as demonstrated in the interaction between Jesus and the Syrophoenician woman. You, O Lord, are the God of all nations, and You call all people to Your mercy. Instill in me a faith as persistent and humble as that of the woman who came to Jesus. Let me never be deterred by the seeming enormity of the barriers in my life, but with trustful prayer, let me seek Your face, believing that even the smallest of Your crumbs can restore and renew.

Dear Jesus, Son of the Most High, Your words and actions in the Gospel reveal the breadth of Your love and the inclusiveness of Your mission. Teach me to approach You with boldness, wrapped in the humility that recognizes my own unworthiness and yet trusts in Your mercy. As You commended the faith of the Gentile woman, help me to bring my needs and the pleas of others before You, confident that You hear and answer in Your perfect time and wisdom.

Holy Spirit, Divine Comforter, I pray that You would stir within me a spirit of courage and discernment, that I may see beyond the barriers of race, culture, and social standing, embracing the universality of Christ’s call. Guide me in my interactions, that I might reflect Christ’s love and compassion to all, never doubting the reach of Your transforming power. Empower me to be an instrument of Your peace and reconciliation in a divided world.

Thought for the Day

“Even the smallest crumb of grace is enough to transform a life.” Let this thought remind us today of the power of faith and the boundless reach of God’s mercy. As we go about our day, may we carry with us the lesson of the Syrophoenician woman: that our humble, persistent faith in Christ has the power to move mountains and transcend the boundaries we often perceive or experience.

As the Day Ends

An Evening Reflection Inspired by Matthew 8:1-3

As the day draws to a close, let us turn our hearts and minds to a passage that reveals the depth of Christ’s compassion and power—Matthew 8:1-3. In these verses, we encounter a  scene where a man with leprosy approaches Jesus with a mixture of hope and humility. He does not demand healing; instead, he presents a poignant plea: “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.” His approach encapsulates a  trust and reverence, recognizing Jesus’ authority while submitting to His divine will. Reflecting on this, consider the areas of your own life where you need healing—be it physical, emotional, or spiritual. How often do you approach God with the same acknowledgment of His sovereignty and the same submission to His will?

The response of Jesus in this passage is equally instructive and comforting. By touching the man, Jesus not only heals him but also breaks through the barriers of societal norms and religious restrictions that kept the leper isolated. “I am willing,” Jesus says, “Be clean.” This simple declaration is a powerful affirmation of God’s desire to restore and heal. It invites you to reflect on the nature of God’s will towards you. In moments of loneliness, despair, or uncertainty, do you sense His willing presence? This passage offers a soothing reminder that Jesus is always ready to reach out and touch our lives, to cleanse and to heal, regardless of the barriers we or society might erect.

Prayer of Reflection and Hope
Heavenly Father, as I reflect on this day and the message of Matthew 8:1-3, I come before You with a heart full of gratitude and need. Like the leper, I recognize Your power in my life and humbly ask for Your willing touch in the areas where I am wounded. Lord, Your readiness to heal the outcast reassures me that no part of my life is too marred by sin or pain to be restored by Your loving hands. Help me to always approach You with the faith that You are not only able, but willing to make me whole.

Jesus, Savior, in Your words, “I am willing,” I find the promise of Your endless grace and mercy. As I lay down tonight, I ask You to renew my spirit, to wash away the day’s worries and failures, and to refresh my soul with Your peace. May Your willing response to the leper inspire me to trust in Your readiness to intervene in my life. Strengthen my faith, Lord, to see beyond my circumstances, to envision my life cleansed and renewed by Your touch.

Holy Spirit, guide me in the quiet of this evening. Illuminate the dark corners of my heart with the light of Christ’s example. Teach me to be an agent of His compassion and healing in the world. As I rest tonight, let Your presence envelop me, guarding my heart and mind in Christ Jesus. Nurture my spirit with the assurance that no matter what tomorrow holds, You are with me, willing and able to make all things new.

Thought for the Night
May the peace of knowing Christ’s readiness to heal illuminate your night and soothe your soul as you rest in His compassionate embrace.

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

Almost six months ago, I had my first baby. Ever since, I’ve been thinking about sleep: how long; how deep; whether it’s happening in a car, on a walk, in a lap. And I’ve been thinking about how to achieve that sleep faithfully, honoring both the dignity of my baby and my duty as a mom.

For many new parents, sleep is a controversy, a series of choices that open you up to criticism. Some parents put their baby in bed with them. (Dangerous!) Others opt for a bassinet. (Cold-hearted!) Some use a pacifier. (Problematic.) Others don’t. (Equally problematic.)

In the newborn months, night feedings are necessary. The controversial faith-based program Baby Wise, promising full nights of sleep at only seven weeks, has therefore been condemned by pediatricians. But even as their babies grow, some parents continue to respond to every whimper. Loving, they proclaim. Unrealistic, say their opponents. And ultimately, not good for the baby!

Others choose to “sleep train,” putting their baby down awake so that they’ll learn to fall asleep on their own. This often involves crying. Worth it, parents insist. Selfish, say their critics. And ultimately, not good for the baby!

If you’ve cared for an infant in 2024 and successfully avoided sleep debates, I commend you. I have not. In part, because of Instagram. Also, because I needed information. My baby seemed tired all the time, and yet his eyes simply would not close. How could I help him rest?

I read some curriculum; I watched some videos; I browsed blogs; I talked to friends. Over time, I learned some strategies. We sang lullabies. We purchased blackout curtains and overnight diapers. We used a swaddle, then a “sleep suit,” then a “sleep sack.” Everything helped.

As for sleep training? Ultimately, we adopted a hybrid approach—putting the baby down “drowsy but awake,” tolerating some fussing but continuing to comfort. He took most of his naps in the crib. His eyes weren’t red anymore. Sometimes he slept the whole night through. For this blessed development, I had the sleep experts to thank.

And yet: Sometimes, sleep still made me anxious. When the baby went down for bed 30 minutes too late, or took another too-short nap, I worried I’d ruined his schedule. I wasn’t being disciplined enough. When the baby complained at 3 a.m., I lay in bed, watching the monitor, wondering if I was being too withholding, if I shouldn’t just gather him into my arms regardless of “the plan.”

Adopting the sleep techniques is one thing. But what hasn’t worked for me are the philosophies undergirding both sides of the debate: the regimented and strategized versus the freewheeling and improvised, and what they assume about human nature.

For the sleep training experts, kids are codes to be cracked. Put a baby down to bed at the same time each night—no more than 15 minutes too early or too late. Rocking or feeding to sleep can create a dreaded bad habit that can ruin a good sleeper in an instant. The science of REM and a table of nap times can tell us most everything we need to know about how to care for our children, they say.

It’s correct that infants respond well to routine, and that typically developing kids follow a certain predictable trajectory. But spend time with a baby and you’ll realize that they’re so much more than a machine, preset to roll, babble, and eat solid foods as the months progress. Each child has her own temperament. Each will buck the guidelines in his own way. Each is “fearfully and wonderfully made,” utterly distinct, not a prefab copy (Ps. 139:14).

The sleep training literature does offer caveats. Some babies don’t respond to the methods. Many babies experience temporary regressions. Babies get sick and grow teeth and sometimes get inexplicably cranky. The caveats feel more descriptive than the norms. Why did the baby wake up three times? Ultimately, explanations are futile, an attempt to understand a child’s needs within an adult rationale.

But what if adult rationale is getting in the way—in parenting and in the rest of my life as a Christian? Jesus asks us to come to him as children, guileless, lowly, utterly honest in our dependence on him.

I’ve Been a Prosperity Gospel Parent

As a young mom, I tried to do everything right. The longer I parent, the less I seek “success” and the more I rely on God’s grace.

Gretchen Ronnevik

The sleep trainers, with their charts and protocols, sometimes underemphasize the goodness of this kind of relationship, the beauty in pure, unruly, inexplicable need. When my baby wants me in the night, that’s not a failure of a system. It is the system.

Rather than trying to explain my baby—why he loves his fox toy, why he drinks bottles three ounces more than the guidelines, why he sticks his legs through the bars of the crib—what if I simply beheld him, content with a measure of mystery? What if I allowed my baby to come to me as Jesus invites us to come to him, through a Holy Spirit that understands groanings we ourselves can’t comprehend (Rom. 8:26)?

Yet I don’t think the “attachment” types have it all right either. For these moms—the co-sleepers and the snugglers—babies are ultimate authorities. Your child wants to suck for five minutes every half an hour? He’ll sleep only while touching you? Let him; he knows what’s best for himself. He’ll eat only until he’s full, and he’ll only cry when he has a need to be met.

But this doesn’t feel true either. “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do,” writes Paul to the Romans (7:15). He’s speaking about sin. In a fallen world, this tension—doing things that run counter to our best nature, wanting what’s bad for us—is present from our earliest days, willed or otherwise (Ps. 51:5).

Babies want to stick their hands in their diapers, then into their mouths. They hate car seats. They hate socks. My job as a mother isn’t just to let my child lead, even when he’s small. It’s to raise him up in the way he should go. It’s to set parameters, to lay some plans, even if they have to be adapted along the way.

Being a mother, I’m learning, isn’t so much about the strategies and techniques, after all, whether it comes to sleeping, or eating, or the more complicated tasks to come: discipline, education, spiritual formation.

This isn’t just a matter of eschewing two camps for some kind of “middle way.” It’s rethinking the very idea of “camps” at all, understanding parenting less as a philosophy we adapt and more as a calling we answer, at times full of confusion, inconsistency, and improvisation.

God, after all, doesn’t call us to be experts, to read one more product review or research study, or to know all the answers in advance. Instead, we’re simply called to be wise, which has more to do with attention than information, more to do with end goals than tactics.

Wise people are authorities who depend on the ultimate Authority, asking questions of God, depending on and submitting to him even as our children depend on and submit to us. That’s my prayer this Mother’s Day, my first with a baby in my arms: wisdom. And more sleep.

Kate Lucky

Am I a Godly Mom?

“Love them,” our wise pastor advised me. In all my reading about discipline, schedules and developmental stages, he pointed this new mom to what mattered most: love (1 Cor. 13:1). Over the decades, I have come to appreciate the wisdom of his advice. While keeping love at forefront, I offer moms twelve biblical principles on holiness.

1. Our holiness is God’s priority.

As Scottish pastor Robert Murray M’Cheyne (1813–1843) was known to have said, “My people’s greatest need is for my personal holiness.” The same is true for moms. We can humbly live in such a way that we can say to our children, “Follow me as I follow Christ” (1 Cor. 11:1). Through this pursuit, our children will learn more than we know.

2. Our holiness is in Christ alone.

When we sin, as we all do (Rom. 3:23, 1 John 1:8), we can also set an example of repentance. When you sin against your kids, ask your kids to forgive you. Don’t be like our first parents and hide your sin as if it were not there (Gen. 3:7–8). Teach your kids how to deal with their own sin by the way you deal with yours. As you confess your sin, your children will learn that God not only cares about our holiness, but He also provides the way to holiness through trusting Christ in the gospel (1 John 1:9).

3. Serving our children is a holy calling.

We may be tempted to think that there is something more valuable than changing a diaper, waiting at a checkout line, or playing a game with our toddler or teenager. Many parenting tasks are mundane, but when done in faith, they are glorious! When Jesus washed His disciples’ feet, He dignified humble service. What’s more, He said that whatever you did to the least of these, you did to Me (Matt. 25:40). Let us humbly serve our children a cup of cold water in His name (Matt. 10:42), knowing that this loving care reflects God’s care for His children (Matt. 7:9–11).

4. Our children belong to God.

They belong to Him first (Eph. 1:4). He is their heavenly Creator. He made them for His purposes, not our own. Parents are stewards called to point our children to their greatest need (Heb. 12:5–11). This means that we must always submit our plans for our children to God’s plan (Prov. 16:9)._ _God chooses where they will live (Acts 17:26), the good they will do (Eph. 2:10), and the course of their lives (Ps. 139:16).

5. God uses suffering for His holy purpose.

God even chooses suffering for our children. God is a good Father, who does not allow suffering without providing relief (Isa. 41:10; 1 Cor. 10:13; 1 Peter 4:19; Rev. 21:4). Naturally, our hearts break when we see our children suffer. But in His holy and wise providence, God gives our children trials to conform them (and us) to the character of His Son, Jesus Christ (Rom. 8:29). With this good purpose in view, we are called to rejoice in suffering, and over time, teach our children to as well (James 1:2–4).

6. Holiness requires discipline.

God disciplines those He loves and so should we (Heb. 12:6, Prov. 13:24, 23:13). No one, including moms, likes discipline at the time, but it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those trained by it (Heb. 12:11). Pray for wisdom to discipline your children well and fully expect God to give it (James 1:5, 1 John 5:14–15).

7. Holiness requires God’s vision.

Man looks at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart (1 Sam. 16:7). When our children misbehave, we may be tempted to judge by appearances. The Bible cautions us to “be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger” (James 1:19) and tells us, “The ear of the wise seeks knowledge” (Prov. 18:15). Sometimes we need to hold back from immediate discipline. In some cases, we should seek understanding first so that we can address the heart accurately (Prov. 14:29).

8. Holiness is a gift from God.

Sometimes we do not have because we do not ask God (James 4:2–3). Ask God for holiness for your children—along with every other good and perfect gift: love for His Word, a teachable heart, wisdom, health, friends, and more (James 1:17). Look past what you can give from your resources to what God can give from His (Matt. 14:13–21).

9. God gives children a holy promise.

**“**Honor your father and mother . . . that it may go well with you” (see Eph. 6:1–4). Set an example of honoring their father and all their authorities. Seek to settle disagreements in private and to be united in raising your children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord (Col. 3:18–25). If you must disagree in front of your children, do so respectfully (Eph. 6:33).

10. God is always at His holy work (John 5:17).

Pray to see God’s work in your children’s lives, thank Him for it, and point it out to them. A godly mom builds up her house (Prov. 14:1). Don’t wait for “perfection” before giving praise. God doesn’t! He commended many imperfect people in the Bible. Point your kids to God’s faithful work in their lives.

11. Jesus is our holy peace.

Jesus assures us: “In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). Expect trouble as a mom, but don’t despair; God is with you. Be strong and courageous as you take hold of the covenant promises God has for your children as you labor to consistently set God’s Word and Lord’s Day worship with God’s people before them (Josh. 1:9).

12. God’s holy Word is sufficient (2 Tim. 3:14–15).

Stay and pray in the Word and you will find many more truths to help you be a godly mom (John 17:17). As you study who God is and what He has done, the Holy Spirit will show you just what you need as a mom so that you can say with Paul, “I can do all things through him who strengthens me” (Phil. 4:13).

Emily Van Dixhoorn

By His Touch

Out of the Text of Matthew 8:1-3

In Matthew 8:1-3, the theme of divine compassion and boundary-crossing mercy is vividly portrayed as Jesus heals a man with leprosy by not only speaking healing into existence but by reaching out and touching him—a  defiance of contemporary religious and social norms. This theme of God’s willingness to transcend human barriers to offer healing and inclusion is echoed throughout the Scriptures.

In the Old Testament, we see God’s mercy in the story of Jonah, where God’s compassion extends even to the Assyrians of Nineveh, a people notorious for their cruelty and seen as enemies of Israel. Despite Jonah’s resistance, God insists on the offer of redemption and forgiveness to Nineveh, showcasing His universal compassion. Similarly, the story of Hosea uses the prophet’s marriage to a woman unfaithful as a symbol of God’s faithful love for Israel despite her spiritual unfaithfulness. These narratives emphasize that God’s mercy is not confined by human boundaries of ethnicity, moral purity, or social acceptability.

The New Testament continues and expands upon these themes, particularly in Jesus’ ministry. Stories such as the Good Samaritan, where Jesus uses a despised foreigner as the hero who exemplifies neighborly love (Luke 10:25-37), or His conversation with the Samaritan woman at the well (John 4:1-26), where He breaks cultural taboos to discuss life’s deepest truths, underscore the theme of boundary-crossing compassion. These stories from both Testaments provide a comprehensive view of a God who consistently reaches across human-imposed barriers to restore and heal.

Cultural and Faith Intersection
The radical inclusion demonstrated by Jesus in Matthew 8:1-3 challenges contemporary believers to reflect on the ‘lepers’ of today’s society—those marginalized due to race, economic status, or even lifestyle choices. This passage calls into question the boundaries we erect and invites us to act with Christ-like compassion and courage. In a world deeply fractured by divisions, the narrative pushes Christians to engage actively in societal reconciliation, mirroring Jesus’ actions by reaching out to those different from us.

For instance, consider the global refugee crisis—millions displaced by war, poverty, and persecution. How does the church respond to such overwhelming need? Do we, like Jesus, extend hands of healing and words of welcome, or do we retreat in fear and preservation? The church’s response to such crises can be a powerful testimony to the inclusive love of Christ. Another example is the church’s role in racial reconciliation in societies still deeply scarred by the legacy of racial injustice and discrimination. The narrative of Jesus healing the leper invites Christians to be agents of healing and reconciliation, actively working to dismantle the barriers of prejudice and hostility.

Biblical Conclusions
Engaging with Matthew 8:1-3 within the broader scriptural context and our contemporary world reveals a powerful directive for personal and communal faith. It compels us to question how we emulate Christ’s example of love and inclusion in our daily lives and communities. Are there groups or individuals we view as ‘untouchable’? How can we extend Christ’s healing and inclusion to them?

This passage encourages a faith that is not passive but actively seeks to transform society through radical love and mercy. It challenges believers to reflect deeply on the nature of our interactions with those on the margins of society. As you contemplate the barriers you encounter or even uphold, consider how you might be a conduit of Christ’s boundary-crossing compassion in your community. How can your faith community better reflect the inclusive heart of God, as demonstrated in Matthew 8:1-3? These reflections and questions not only deepen our understanding of Scripture but also enhance our engagement with the world, fostering a more compassionate and inclusive Christian witness.

Beyond the Words of Matthew 8:1-3
One insightful perspective comes from Craig Keener in his “IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament,” where he emphasizes the cultural and religious significance of Jesus touching the leper. Keener notes, “By touching the leper before saying the word that healed him, Jesus challenged the ritual norms that required purity separations.” This act not only defies societal norms but also demonstrates Jesus’ authority over the law and his commitment to restore those ostracized by society.

Another  commentary comes from R.T. France in his “The Gospel of Matthew.” France discusses the immediate context of this miracle following the Sermon on the Mount, suggesting that “Jesus’ healings are not just signs of compassion but also powerful declarations of the kingdom of God breaking into human brokenness.” France’s perspective highlights the theological depth of Jesus’ actions, portraying them as foundational to the in-breaking of God’s kingdom on earth.

These insights enrich our understanding of Matthew 8:1-3 by providing cultural and theological contexts. Keener’s focus on Jesus’ radical act of touching the leper underlines the depth of divine compassion that transcends human legalistic boundaries. France, on the other hand, connects this act of healing to a larger cosmic narrative of redemption and kingdom realization, reminding us that Jesus’ miracles are not isolated events but are deeply embedded in the narrative of God’s saving work.

Expanding the Conversation
Building on Keener’s observations, we can explore how Jesus’ willingness to touch the leper not only challenges but reconstructs societal norms about purity. In a contemporary context, this act encourages believers to reconsider how they view and interact with those considered ‘untouchable’ in society—be it due to illness, social status, or sin. Jesus’ example pushes us to engage in acts of mercy that may defy societal expectations but reflect the kingdom values.

Reflecting further on France’s commentary, we see that Jesus’ healings are indeed eschatological signs pointing to the ultimate restoration promised in Scripture. This connection between Jesus’ miracles and the proclamation of the kingdom invites a deeper exploration of how miracles serve not merely as proof of divine power but as invitations to witness and participate in the unfolding kingdom. This understanding calls believers to a hopeful engagement with the world, anticipating and contributing to God’s redemptive plans through acts of justice, mercy, and compassion.

Personal and Communal Reflections
The insights from Keener and France provide a robust framework for understanding the  implications of Jesus’ healing of the leper in Matthew 8:1-3. These commentaries challenge us to view Jesus’ actions as paradigmatic for Christian practice—encouraging a faith that actively seeks to break down barriers of exclusion and to manifest the inclusivity of the kingdom of God.

For individuals, this passage challenges us to reflect on our own responses to those who are marginalized or considered outsiders by mainstream society. Are we willing to extend ‘touch’—whether literally or metaphorically—to those in need? For communities, this reflection deepens into an evaluation of our collective actions: how are we as a church or community being a place of healing and acceptance?

These reflections invite readers to consider the practical outworking of Jesus’ kingdom proclamation in their daily lives. How might embracing Jesus’ example of radical love and inclusion change our interactions and transform our communities? Each believer’s response to these questions not only shapes personal faith but also impacts the broader witness of the church in the world.

Facing the Storms with Faith via Matthew 8:1-3
A biblical narrative that resonates deeply with the themes of faith and divine intervention found in Matthew 8:1-3 is the story of Jesus calming the storm on the Sea of Galilee, as recounted in Mark 4:35-41. In this account, Jesus and His disciples are caught in a sudden and fierce storm while crossing the lake. The disciples, terrified by the wind and the waves threatening to engulf their boat, awaken Jesus in desperation. His response, “Peace! Be still!” (Mark 4:39), not only stills the storm but also reveals His divine authority over the natural elements, paralleling His dominion over illness and societal boundaries demonstrated in Matthew 8:1-3.

Both stories showcase Jesus’ supreme power over chaos, whether it be a physical ailment or a natural disaster, highlighting His role as the sovereign Lord over all creation. The key themes these narratives share include the disciples’ struggle with fear and doubt juxtaposed against the demonstration of Jesus’ divine power. The calming of the storm and the healing of the leper both serve as powerful metaphors for God’s ability to bring peace and restoration amidst the turbulent ‘storms’ of life. These accounts collectively reinforce the message of God’s faithful presence and His readiness to intervene when His followers call upon Him in faith.

Questions of Faith
One question that contemporary Christians might wrestle with from this scripture is: “How can I trust God’s willingness to help me when I face personal crises or societal exclusion?” This question is essential as it probes the nature of God’s character and His concern for individual suffering. Matthew 8:1-3 offers a  insight into this query; Jesus’ immediate and compassionate response to the leper underscores His readiness and willingness to intervene and restore those who seek Him in faith, despite societal norms or barriers.

Another question could be, “What does Jesus’ healing of the leper teach us about responding to those who are marginalized in our communities?” This question invites believers to reflect on the inclusivity of Jesus’ ministry. His example challenges us to extend mercy and compassion towards those often overlooked or shunned by society. Understanding Jesus’ actions helps believers appreciate the depth of God’s love and the breadth of His kingdom, which encompasses all, regardless of their societal status or ailments.

Spiritual Warfare Application
The teachings in Matthew 8:1-3, alongside the narrative of Jesus calming the storm, provide powerful metaphors for spiritual warfare. These passages reveal that believers are not left defenseless against the spiritual darkness that often manifests as fear, illness, or chaos. Just as Jesus demonstrated His power over physical and natural disorders, He also equips His followers to stand firm against spiritual oppression.

Practical ways believers can apply these teachings include embracing prayer as a means of invoking God’s power and presence, much like the leper did. Maintaining strong community ties within the body of Christ ensures support and collective faith, which are crucial for withstanding spiritual trials. Regular engagement with Scripture fortifies the believer’s understanding of God’s character and promises, serving as both weapon and shield in spiritual battles.

Reflecting on these narratives, believers are encouraged to remain vigilant and resilient, trusting in Jesus’ power and presence to still the storms of life. This approach not only strengthens individual faith but also unites the community in a shared commitment to live out the gospel, exemplifying Christ’s love and power in a world often characterized by turbulence and despair.

Make Me Clean

Into the Text of Matthew 8:1-3
The passage in Matthew 8:1-3 is set in a period of intense socio-political and religious complexity. This text was likely written in the late first century AD, a time when the early Christian community was under Roman rule and often at odds with both the Roman authorities and the established Jewish religious leadership. The society was hierarchically structured, and leprosy, as depicted in the passage, symbolized ultimate impurity and social exclusion. Lepers were marginalized not only medically but also socially and religiously, required to live apart from society and to announce their impurity.

Understanding this setting is crucial for interpreting the narrative. The actions of Jesus, as described in Matthew, often directly confront these societal and religious boundaries. His willingness to touch a leper not only challenges the Levitical laws (which mandated separation for lepers) but also acts as a powerful counter-narrative to the prevailing views of purity and impurity. This bold move by Jesus can be seen as a declaration of a new order where compassion overrides ritualistic separation. It highlights the radical inclusivity of Jesus’ ministry, which is a central theme in Matthew’s Gospel. This historical backdrop thus offers a clearer lens through which to view Jesus’ transformative actions, emphasizing his role as a social and religious revolutionary who came to redefine the boundaries of community and fellowship.

Is there a cultural context for the text?
The cultural context of Matthew 8:1-3 is deeply embedded in the Jewish traditions and beliefs of the time. Leprosy was seen as not just a physical ailment but a divine punishment, reflecting moral and ceremonial impurity. The cultural norms dictated that lepers be isolated to prevent the ritual contamination of others, highlighting a culture that was deeply concerned with purity laws as outlined in the Torah. This context is essential to understanding the gravity of Jesus’ actions when he chooses to touch the leper, an act that defied conventional norms and could have rendered him ritually unclean.

By recognizing these cultural elements, we can better appreciate the radical nature of Jesus’ ministry. His actions in the passage signal a departure from traditional Jewish law and suggest a new kind of community where purity is defined not by adherence to ritual law but by the ethos of mercy and compassion. This cultural understanding enriches our reading of the text, allowing us to see Jesus’ miracles not just as supernatural events but as profound challenges to the social and religious status quo.

What statements does the text make about our faith?
Matthew 8:1-3 makes profound statements about the nature of faith, particularly highlighting trust in divine will and the power of personal supplication. The leper’s approach to Jesus with the words, “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean,” reflects a deep faith in Jesus’ power and a respectful submission to His divine authority. This interaction underscores the belief in Jesus’ ability to heal not just physical ailments but also societal and religious alienation.

For modern believers, this passage challenges us to reflect on the nature of our own faith, especially in contexts of despair or social isolation. It invites us to consider how faith can guide us through trials, encouraging a trust in divine power that goes beyond conventional boundaries and societal expectations. The text suggests that faith involves both acknowledgment of God’s supreme power and an active engagement in seeking His grace, as demonstrated by the leper’s boldness in approaching Jesus despite societal norms.

How does understanding the historical background enhance our interpretation of the passage?
Integrating the historical and cultural insights discussed offers a richer interpretation of Matthew 8:1-3. Knowing the societal and religious implications of leprosy in Jesus’ time, and the radical inclusivity of Jesus’ response, adds layers of meaning to the narrative. It becomes clear that this passage is not only about physical healing but also about challenging and transforming social norms and religious exclusivity. This perspective influences how we view our own faith journeys, encouraging us to act with compassion and courage, regardless of societal barriers.

This enhanced understanding urges believers today to reflect on how they can embody the inclusivity and love demonstrated by Jesus. It calls for a faith that is active in challenging injustices and extending the boundaries of community, much like Jesus did. This passage, therefore, not only deepens our understanding of Scripture but also compels us to live out our faith in transformative ways that reflect the heart of Jesus’ teachings.

In the Word of Matthew 8:1-3

The central exegetical idea of Matthew 8:1-3 revolves around the divine authority and compassion of Jesus Christ as He interacts with and heals a man suffering from leprosy. This passage serves as a powerful theological assertion of Christ’s willingness to break societal boundaries and offer healing and inclusion to those marginalized. The dialogue, “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean,” followed by Jesus’ response, “I am willing; be clean,” encapsulates the core of this spiritual exchange. The original Greek phrases used here are crucial for a deeper theological understanding. The term katharizō translated as “be clean” not only refers to physical cleansing but also to ritual and spiritual purification, emphasizing the comprehensive nature of Jesus’ healing power.

The use of thelō (“I am willing”) in Greek underscores the volition and deliberate intent of Jesus, affirming His active choice to heal and purify, which is central to understanding His divine mercy and sovereignty. This interaction is not passive; it is a deliberate engagement with and transformation of the existing norms surrounding impurity.

Analyzing how Matthew 8:1-3 fits within its broader narrative context, the passage precedes a series of miracles that establish Jesus’ authority over disease, nature, and spiritual realms. Following the Sermon on the Mount, these acts of healing further illustrate His teaching about the Kingdom of Heaven and His role as the Messiah. The healing of the leper immediately transitions to the healing of the centurion’s servant and Peter’s mother-in-law, forming a triptych of miracles that underscore His authority and the breadth of His mission across different social and ethnic groups. This sequencing reinforces themes of faith and authority, showing Jesus’ power not only over physical ailments but also societal barriers.

The literary techniques in Matthew 8:1-3, such as direct dialogue and dramatic action (Jesus stretching out His hand), enhance the emotional and theological impact of the narrative. The physical act of touching the leper, which defied contemporary Jewish norms that regarded lepers as untouchable, serves as a potent symbol of Jesus’ rejection of societal prejudices and His embodiment of divine love and purity. This action, paired with the dialogue, uses physicality and speech to deepen the spiritual truths of inclusion and the power of faith.

Furthermore, the immediate and complete healing of the leper showcases a motif common in the Gospels: the instantaneous nature of Jesus’ miracles as signs of divine authority and the breaking in of the Kingdom of God. This miracle, by virtue of its position at the beginning of a series of miraculous events, sets the tone for understanding Jesus’ ministry as one characterized by compassion, authority, and the fulfillment of prophetic expectations regarding the Messiah.

The passage’s integration of these elements—direct dialogue, symbolic action, and thematic continuity—contributes significantly to the reader’s understanding of the broader message of the Gospel according to Matthew. It not only illustrates Jesus’ divine authority and compassion but also challenges the reader to reflect on the inclusivity of the Kingdom of Heaven and the transformative power of faith in action.

Comparing Matthew 8:1-3
For a comparative analysis with Matthew 8:1-3, Mark 1:40-45 presents a resonant narrative that provides  thematic and narrative linkages. Both passages describe an encounter between Jesus and a leper, focusing on themes of purification, divine authority, and societal reintegration. While Matthew succinctly captures the event, Mark’s account provides additional details that enrich the theological dialogue between these texts.

Both narratives emphasize the  act of Jesus touching the leper, which breaks significant cultural and religious taboos associated with impurity. This act symbolizes not only physical healing but also spiritual cleansing and social restoration. The lepers’ approach to Jesus, marked by  humility and faith, underscores a mutual theme: the recognition of Jesus’ divine authority and power. The request, “If you are willing, you can make me clean,” present in both accounts, highlights a deep personal faith in Jesus’ ability to heal and purify, setting a thematic resonance on faith and divine willingness to respond.

Linguistic and Exegetical Insights
In Matthew 8:1-3, the Greek term katharizō, meaning “to cleanse,” holds significant theological weight. It implies not just physical healing but also a return to ritual purity, allowing the individual to re-enter the community. This term is pivotal in understanding the depth of Jesus’ actions, as it reflects the societal and spiritual implications of the miracle. In Mark’s narrative, the emphasis is also on cleansing, but with added narrative elements that expand on the leper’s societal exclusion and subsequent inclusion.

Another key term is thelō, “I am willing,” used by Jesus in both accounts, which is crucial for understanding the nature of Jesus’ ministry as proactive and compassionate. This linguistic choice underscores His autonomy and authority over Jewish law and societal norms, emphasizing His role as the Messiah who redefines purity and community boundaries.

The narrative techniques in both passages also enhance their theological messaging. Mark uses an inclusio structure, which frames the story of the leper with Jesus’ public ministry, highlighting the transformative impact of the healing. Matthew’s account, while more concise, is strategically placed to set the stage for a series of miracles that establish Jesus’ authority over all realms of existence—physical, spiritual, and natural.

Thematic Expansion and Spiritual Implications
Reading these two passages in conjunction highlights broader theological themes about the nature of God, the role of faith, and the dynamics of divine-human interaction. Both texts illustrate God’s nature as inherently compassionate and willing to engage with human impurity and marginalization, challenging existing religious and social paradigms.

This comparative analysis enhances our understanding of faith as not merely belief in power but trust in divine willingness and timing. It also broadens our perspective on how divine actions in scriptural times continue to resonate with modern challenges of exclusion and marginalization. Understanding Jesus’ willingness to touch and cleanse the leper invites believers today to reflect on how they, too, might act as agents of healing and inclusion within their own contexts.

These insights have significant implications for contemporary faith practice. They encourage a more inclusive and compassionate approach to ministry and community life, reflecting Jesus’ model of breaking societal barriers to extend God’s kingdom. This intertextual dialogue between Matthew and Mark not only enriches our spiritual understanding but also challenges us to embody these divine qualities in our interactions and ministry, promoting a faith that actively engages with and transforms the world around us.

We Shouldn’t Run

Rarely does an essay cause such a stir as Aaron Renn’s “The Three Worlds of Evangelicalism.” Published in First Things in 2022, Renn’s framework for describing Christianity’s fall into cultural disfavor since the 1960s elicited a wide range of responses, from wholehearted agreement to sympathetic skepticism to vociferous disagreement, and seemingly everything in between.

Renn’s essay categorizes the recent history of evangelicalism in the United States into three periods, or worlds. In the positive world, Christianity was in a position of cultural dominance; most Americans, even those who were not particularly religious, recognized the importance of Christianity to the country’s collective moral fabric. In the neutral world, the broader culture came to see Christianity not as uniquely good, but still as a belief system and worldview doing more good than harm.

Since the early 2010s—the dates themselves, Renn admits, are not binding—evangelicalism has been in the negative world. Here, culture and its elites are inherently suspicious of evangelical Christianity, especially when it challenges or conflicts with emerging, more attractive ideologies. Christians in the negative world, according to Renn, will encounter resistance to previously acceptable beliefs and behaviors. This resistance could take many forms, from simple yet pronounced disagreement all the way to the dreaded C-word: cancellation.

Less than two years after his essay, Renn’s book, Life in the Negative World: Confronting Challenges in an Anti-Christian Culture, updates and elaborates on his framework and provides tangible resources for Christians concerned about this cultural transformation. Renn’s work, he admits, is not pastoral, nor is it necessarily prescriptive. Rather, drawing on his experience in the world of management consulting, he proposes a way forward for American evangelicals wanting to adapt to the new normal in faithful and prophetic ways—that is, to be in the negative world while refusing to be of the negative world.

After briefly recapping his “three worlds” framework, Renn pivots to strategies for theologically conservative evangelicals finding themselves gradually alone in and at odds with the negative world. Renn organizes these strategies around three elements of evangelical identity: the personal, the institutional, and the missional. In the three chapters for each element—Renn is apparently a fan of trios—he advises Christians in a variety of contexts, from individual choices to organizational decision making.

In his section on personal living, for example, Renn exhorts Christians to remain obedient to Christian orthodoxy in the years and decades ahead, even as the larger culture continues to disincentivize such obedience. This sort of obedience, he believes, could bring real consequences to Christians in particular industries, including loss of work. This is why, Renn later argues, Christians should also seek to become less dependent on the world around them, shrewdly managing finances and networks to provide a sort of “cancellation insurance.”

Directing his attention to evangelical institutions, like churches and businesses, Renn warns Christians that there may come a time to “rethink their relationship with mainstream institutions, adopting a less transformational approach with less investment in them.”

Renn is adamant that he is not arguing for a “head for the hills” strategy in response to the negative world, but rather, as Rod Dreher proposes in The Benedict Option, a reorientation toward local, thick communities. Not only does this approach insulate orthodox Christians from prevailing cultural pressures, but it also encourages investment in congregations, neighborhoods, and communities, traditional incubators of the social capital necessary for a flourishing civil society.

Concluding with words on mission, Renn encourages Christians to boldly stand for truth. In this context, he spends a lot of time critiquing some evangelicals’ inordinate attention to gender and sexuality. He is skeptical of the wisdom of debating complementarianism and egalitarianism, even as he applauds thinkers who speak clearly and simply on these questions. (Canadian psychologist Jordan Peterson, Renn notes, “has attracted millions of followers” for his brand of “folk wisdom.”) Evangelicals, Renn believes, should develop thicker skin when making claims that were taken for granted as recently as the last 30 years, lovingly yet boldly being people of the truth in a progressively post-truth environment.

Reasons for optimism

When I read his First Things essay two years ago, I was skeptical of Renn’s “three worlds” framework. I thought it was a blunt instrument that ascribed questionable motives to leaders embracing an engagement model for Christian political and cultural participation. But in reading Life in the Negative World, I found myself nodding along far more than I had anticipated. Renn does not write as someone who has an axe to grind against Christian actors with whom he disagrees. He is, at the very least, trying to make sense of our undoubtedly changing cultural environment, and generally does so graciously and humbly.

In response to Renn’s original essay, critics pointed out that his framework seems to ignore the long history of prejudice and suffering among other elements of the American church—most notably, of course, our Black brothers and sisters. To claim that conservative Christians are at an especially perilous period in American history is, for these critics, shortsighted and obtuse.

To be fair, Renn confronts this criticism head on, claiming that Black Protestants faced discrimination and violence not because of their religion but because of their race. Renn does not discount the struggles of the Black church for most of American history, but he doesn’t think that comparison to today’s challenges for conservative evangelicals is exactly fair.

Still, there are reasons American Christians may be more optimistic than Renn about our futures in a changing cultural environment. Consider, for example, today’s legal and constitutional landscape. While Renn points to the same-sex marriage decision in Obergefell v. Hodges as indicative of an emerging negative world, he doesn’t acknowledge other Supreme Court decisions, before and since, more favorable to Renn’s conservative evangelical audience. These cases, which have strengthened personal and institutional religious freedom protections, include 2012’s Hosanna-Tabor v. EEOC, 2018’s Masterpiece Cakeshop Ltd. v. Colorado Civil Rights Commission, 2020’s Our Lady of Guadalupe School v. Morrissey-Berru, 2021’s Fulton v. City of Philadelphia, and 2022’s Carson v. Makin, to name just a few.

Now, Supreme Court decisions do not necessarily follow the broader cultural trajectory; conservative evangelicals may be protected from legal discrimination and government persecution and still face social costs for adhering to Christian orthodoxy. And Renn’s book is certainly not a legal analysis of the state of First Amendment jurisprudence pertaining to religious freedom. But considering the Supreme Court’s solid 6–3 conservative majority and years-long trend toward accommodating religious exercise, evangelical Christians might have more reason for optimism in the negative world than Renn lets on.

There is a lack of empirical rigor in Life in the Negative World that is at times frustrating. For example, some of Renn’s claims are questionable without supporting evidence—he calls Donald Trump’s Access Hollywood controversy “a forty-eight hour blip of scandal,” argues that a holistic pro-life position is evidence of a “softened” cultural engagement, and claims that “evangelicals especially hold few top positions in important institutions.” Renn may be advancing his own opinions throughout his book, but they are too often presented as matters of fact. And if they are bolstered by evidence, Renn does not often support them as such.

Additionally, as a political scientist, I was discouraged to see just one short chapter focused on Renn’s proposal for Christian political engagement in the negative world. The crux of Renn’s advice in this area is that “evangelicals must remain prudentially engaged,” demonstrating “expertise and wisdom.” But what this means in practice is not specified. Coming after chapters rife with practical recommendations, I was disappointed to see such a comparatively light chapter on how Christians should consider their political engagement amid an increasingly suspicious culture.

New models for new challenges

Despite these criticisms, I am convinced that Life in the Negative World is an important book at an important time. It should age well, as American culture—and evangelical Christianity’s place in it—continues to evolve, either deeper into the negative world or into something else entirely. For my money, Renn’s positive-neutral-negative world framework is among the most thought-provoking ideas pertaining to American evangelicalism this century. You don’t have to be convinced by every element of Renn’s framework to appreciate it.

Crucially, Renn’s book is not a jeremiad against models of Christian political and cultural engagement with which he disagrees. To be sure, he does think these models are going to be ineffective in the years and decades ahead, singling out the culture-war and cultural-engagement models of the 1980s and 2000s, respectively, as popular but ill-suited to our present challenges.

The negative world, Renn predicts, will require more (and different) ideas from evangelicals than can be found in earlier models.

But Renn’s negative world strategies are not condescending or tinged with superiority. Instead, he approaches the negative world with an eye for creativity and fresh ideas to match the seriousness of this moment. Indeed, his advice seems to be offered with sincerity and a desire to help his fellow Christians. And whatever you think of Renn’s three-worlds framing, I think it’s fair to say that evangelicals need all the help we can get.

Daniel Bennett

A Godly Mother’s Prayer

We see throughout Scripture the high value God places on mothers.

The first woman in history was named Eve, which means “the mother of all the living.” Adam gave her this name because, of all the significant things about her, the one thing that most captured his attention was that Eve was created by God to be the mother of humanity.

When we skip ahead to Exodus, we meet Moses’ mother. She made the unbearable sacrifice of nursing her baby boy until he was weaned, knowing he would then be taken as one of the royal babies in Pharoah’s court. Her actions show the importance of a mother giving birth to and protecting her children, sacrificing herself for their good.

And who could forget Mary, the mother of Jesus our Lord? She believed the Word of God – although it was impossible to understand from a human point of view – and she had the highest privilege of any mother who ever lived, giving birth to the Son of God and being His mother. 

Another mother in Scripture who was a model of godly character is Hannah. Her story is brief, but her impact on the divine significance of motherhood is massive. 

Hannah’s exemplary character is displayed clearly in 1 Samuel 2, with her prayer of praise after God had answered her request for a son. In this prayer, we find the heart every godly mother should imitate as they seek to honor the Lord in raising their children. There are four truths in Hannah’s prayer about the character of a godly mother.

First, the godly mother extols the holiness of God.

God’s holiness is the reason Hannah exults in the Lord and rejoices in His salvation (1 Sam 2:2). Hannah, through her pain of experiencing infertility, was sustained by her knowledge of God’s holiness, which assured her of His faithful goodness to all who trust in Him. No matter what she faced in her life, she knew God was her immovable rock.

As Hannah reflects on God’s answer to her prayer, she recognizes God’s glory and majesty. Those who believe in the Lord’s promise exult, not primarily in the answer, but in the One who answered their prayers, as Hannah did. She understood the answer to her prayer was not the result of her strength but that God gave her victory amid distress.

Christians are called to follow Hannah’s example as she extols God’s holiness. Godly mothers will extol God’s holiness so everything in their life is determined by God’s character.

Second, the godly mother explains the mysteries of God.

God often ordains experiences that seem to contradict His promise so that we might exercise faith in what is unseen. These mysterious trials test our faith and prove its reality because we believe God will reverse these circumstances by His own sovereign power without human explanation.

Hannah explains three divine mysteries in her prayer: the mighty are shattered while the weak become strong, the rich become poor while the poor enjoy abundance, and the woman with many children languishes while the barren gives birth. These mysteries completely reverse historical expectations through events that are seemingly impossible to the human mind.

Hannah expresses faith in the exclusive power of God to reverse all human circumstances that seem contrary to His will but which the godly are powerless to change. These mysteries can only be explained by words of faith, even in Hannah’s situation. She saw, in Samuel’s birth, God’s work to deliver His people from sin and death. Hannah did not know of Mary and her song, or of Christ’s death and resurrection, but she believed God would be faithful to all His promises to His people and deliver them from evil because He answered her prayer.

So, it is with godly mothers in every generation, explaining to their children the mysteries of the faith, that what is seen is temporal, but what is unseen is eternal. Godly mothers walk by faith, knowing trials are given to them to see within them the divine mystery God brings about His promises in the most unexpected ways, for His glory alone.

Third, the godly mother exclaims the salvation of God.

Hannah speaks of God bringing about the salvation of His people. She had firsthand experience that God’s deliverance came through suffering, not without it.

This salvation is so marvelous that no human can accomplish it, which is why Hannah notes God Himself established the world and exercises authority over it. God created the world in such a way that the power of men is useless to prevail. Like Hannah, we must depend wholly on God through every circumstance of life for our deliverance; and no matter how painful the situation, God will exalt His people and deliver them by His own power.

Hannah’s once-barren womb is a powerful picture of this helplessness. She clearly saw God’s providence through her heart-breaking situation. She recognized that her deliverance could only come to her by the Almighty’s power, leading her to glory in the ways of God rescuing His people. 

Godly mothers must have a palpable dependence on God in their life, recognizing they are at the mercy of divine providence, not only for eternal salvation, but for their every breath. All believers should also exhibit that attitude. It is not by our own strength we will prevail in our battle against sin or come into God’s kingdom. It is only by the great saving work of God in Christ, and we should exclaim that work.

Finally, the godly mother expects the supremacy of God.

Because the world hates God’s design for women, it misses how much God honors women and womanhood as He has created it to be. In Michelle Obama’s documentary “Becoming,” she said being a mom was a “concession” she had to make as a woman, forcing her to give up her dreams and aspirations. How contrary this is to the picture God wants us to have of the beauty and glory of womanhood and motherhood! God honors women and motherhood. We see this reality many times in Scripture, but Hannah’s story is one of the clearest examples of it.

Hannah’s prayer to become a mother is answered, and God blesses her to be the first person in Scripture to use the word we call Christ (1 Sam 2:10)– even though we previously knew about a promised deliverer. Being a mother was not a concession, nor did it cost Hannah her dreams and aspirations. Rather, it bestowed on her the incomparable honor of introducing the world to the truth that God would send His people the Messiah. 

In looking to the future, Hannah sees God reigning supreme over the earth through His Anointed King. She understood God’s promise and pointed forward to Messiah’s coming and His glorious reign. Her testimony shows that no one should manifest hope more than a mother, and that mothers should lead their children with an example defined by hope because a godly woman knows Christ will reign supreme.

These truths meant so much to Hannah because ultimately she knew she was a sinner in need of a saving God who would conquer Satan, sin, and death. Godly mothers can sing with hope like Hannah when they are profoundly impacted by gospel truths.

We must acknowledge these truths are not just for moms, but for all of us. We are all sinners in need of salvation – a salvation we can never secure by our own strength, and God fulfilled this promise in His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. Those who know Christ by faith know the salvation of our God. I pray our lives might be marked by a singing hope to the glory of His grace.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Robb Brunansky

As the Day Begins

Matthew 8:1-3
“When Jesus came down from the mountainside, large crowds followed him. A man with leprosy came and knelt before him and said, ‘Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.’ Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. ‘I am willing,’ he said. ‘Be clean!’ Immediately he was cleansed of his leprosy.”

Morning Meditation

As the dawn breaks and we step into the light of a new day, the passage from Matthew 8:1-3 invites us into a profound encounter with the compassion of Jesus Christ. Here, we see Jesus descending from the mountain, a place of solitude and communion with the Father, into the bustling reality of human need and suffering. The image of the man with leprosy approaching Jesus is a powerful one. In those times, leprosy was not just a physical ailment but a condition that rendered individuals socially and religiously outcast. The leper’s plea, “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean,” reflects a deep faith but also a humble submission to Christ’s will. This interaction is a touching reminder of the Lord’s readiness to engage with our vulnerabilities.

The response of Jesus to the leper’s request, “I am willing, be clean,” and His act of reaching out and touching the man, speaks volumes about His character. In a society where lepers were untouchable, Jesus broke barriers and demonstrated that His love knows no bounds. This gesture was not only an act of healing but also an act of reintegration, restoring the man not just physically but also socially and spiritually. As you reflect on this passage, consider your own areas of spiritual or emotional leprosy—those parts of your life that feel isolated or hidden away. Imagine Jesus, with the same compassion He showed the leper, reaching out to touch and cleanse every wounded part of your life, declaring His willingness to make you whole.

Prayer

Heavenly Father, as I come before You in the quiet of this morning, I am reminded of Your boundless compassion through the encounter of Your Son, Jesus, with the leper. Like the mountainside from which Christ descended to meet the needs of the crowd, Your love is high and lifted up, yet so close and accessible. Father, help me to embody this same compassion in my interactions today. May I not shy away from reaching out to those who are marginalized and considered untouchable by society. Strengthen my faith to believe, as the leper did, that Your power and willingness can change the most desperate situations.

Lord Jesus, Your touch transformed the life of the leper, not only healing him but also restoring his dignity and place in the community. Teach me to extend my hands in service and love, breaking the barriers of fear and prejudice. As You declared, “I am willing,” let these words echo in my heart and guide my actions. Help me to trust in Your willingness to work through me, even when challenges arise.

Holy Spirit, breathe into me the freshness of this day, as I meditate on the purity of Christ’s love. Empower me to act boldly and lovingly, inspired by the example of Jesus. As the Spirit who animates and renews, stir in me a passion for bringing healing and wholeness to those I encounter. Guide my thoughts and deeds, and let me be a conduit of Your grace and mercy in every moment.

Thought for the Day

Today, as you carry the image of Jesus’ compassionate touch in your heart, remember His words: “I am willing.” Let this affirmation shape your interactions and decisions, knowing that Christ’s willingness to heal and restore is as relevant today as it was for the leper. Carry this assurance into your day, and let it inspire a generous and open-hearted approach to the needs around you. May this thought remind you of the depth of Jesus’ love and His readiness to make all things new.