In our last post, we looked at the story of the woman caught in adultery. Jesus showed grace and love to this woman, outsmarting the self-righteous crowd that came to condemn her. At the end of the story in John 8, we find that she calls Him “Lord.”
Most of us have heard of the story of the woman caught in adultery in John 8. The religious leaders brought this woman before Jesus in an attempt to trap Him with a question: “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” Instead of humoring them, the Bible says, “Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, ‘Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.’”
The word that these men used to address Jesus— “Master” —is only used in Luke’s gospel. It was typically used for a commander, to emphasize the authority of the addressed person. The key to this miracle was that all ten men came completely under Jesus’s authority. You see, Jesus is only responsible for the parts of your life that you submit to Him. Only the parts of our lives that are under the umbrella of God’s covering are guaranteed not to get wet. But many of us live lives half-in and half-out; and then we’re surprised by the fact that the devil has taken hold. These men saw Jesus and asked for cover.
Have you ever been through a storm that caused you to see God in a different way? Often, we learn much about ourselves, and our God, in the midst of challenges—when we reach the end of our own strength. This was the case for Jesus’s disciples in Matthew 14.
If you’ve ever seen a child open his or her gifts at a birthday party, you know that it’s human nature to care more about the gift than the giver. So often, we unwrap the gifts and blessings in our lives with the sole intention of enjoying them—not of thanking the giver.
Most of us would answer this question in the affirmative. However, there’s a story in John 5 that deserves close examination, where Jesus asks a man this very same question and gets another response. The man at Bethesda, who has been sick for 38 years—paralyzed physically—dodges the question entirely. Let’s take a look...
Lately, we’ve been examining the story of Jairus, and how God’s timing is sometimes much different than our own. As we wrap up our look at Jairus’s miracle—the resurrection of his daughter—there’s one more important principle to make note of. Jairus didn’t only trust God’s timing—he was also willing to keep following Christ even when he didn’t understand how things would work out in the end.
If you’ve followed Christ for any amount of time, you’ve probably realized that God works according to His own timing—not ours. It’s easy to trust this when things are going well; however, when crisis strikes, we can become angry, hurt, confused, and even bitter. We can ask how God can possibly delay in fulfilling what we perceive as our desperate needs.
The story of Zacchaeus has many things to teach us, both about ourselves as followers of Jesus and about Jesus Himself. Perhaps the most amazing part of the story is found in Luke 19:6-10. Let’s take a look.
The story of Zacchaeus has something incredible to teach us about being in the place God has assigned to you. First, let’s look at how Zacchaeus comes to encounter Jesus: Luke 19 tells us, “He ran ahead and climbed a sycamore-fig tree beside the road, for Jesus was going to pass that way. When Jesus came by, he looked up at Zacchaeus and called him by name. ‘Zacchaeus!’ he said. ‘Quick, come down! I must be a guest in your home today.’”
In Mark 5, we meet a woman who had struggled for twelve years with an issue of blood. She had gone to doctors again and again, without relief. Finally, she heard that Jesus was nearby. Verses 27-29 tell us what she did...
I don’t care how close you are to Jesus; I don’t care if you’re an apostle, prophet, evangelist, preacher…people hurt people. Because that’s what we do. This is why, for believers, forgiveness is not about keeping score; it’s about God helping us lose count.