For years, and regrettably far too many of them, I was overwhelmed by the magnitude of human need. “It is unfixable,” I pondered, “There will always be poverty, exploitation, oppression, and abuse. No matter how I help today, there will certainly be as much need tomorrow, and likely more.” I was dispirited to the point of paralysis, donating here and there, yes, but always with a sense of resignation to a problem unsolved and the futility of my pittance. Didn’t Jesus say, “The poor you will always have with you”?1 “What’s the use?” I thought. “I can give them everything I have and change nothing but to join their ranks.”
Over time, it occurred to me the poor and oppressed might see things differently. Take the church in Macedonia, for instance. Despite their own “severe affliction” and “extreme poverty,” they “overflowed in a wealth of generosity”2 toward others in need. Paul marvels at the heartfelt zeal of this humble people, “For they gave according to their means, as I can testify, and beyond their means, of their own accord, begging us earnestly for the favor of taking part in the relief of the saints . . .”3 To these eager believers, poverty was not a point to ponder but a reality to relieve. Now. No need to overthink it.
We all live in our little corner of the world, and it is here that Jesus, through His Spirit, stirs us, calls us, and leads us into action. Were we to let the enormity of global need paralyze us into inaction, need itself might be unmet in our so-called “sphere of influence.” So this is the lesson I’ve learned: Don’t worry about the big picture — God’s got that — but just act wherever and however He calls me today. That’s all He asks.
“Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter— when you see the naked, to clothe them, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood? Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.” — Isaiah 58:6-8 NIV
Father, You are good and Your ways are right. Keep me mindful of the need around me today — be it physical or spiritual — and show me what You want me to do. Move in and through me by Your Spirit. In Christ I pray. Amen.
1 Mark 14:7 NIV
2 2 Corinthians 8:2 ESV
3 2 Corinthians 8:3-4 ESV
Tag: Paul Nordman
Confidence for Prayer
For we do not present our pleas before you because of our righteousness, but because of your great mercy. — Daniel 9:18 ESV
Do you ever approach God timidly, wondering if He fully accepts you? Do you let guilt or shame distance you from the one and only God, who would draw you near? Then perhaps this verse, Daniel’s confession, will stir in you as it has in me. In fact, stop for a moment and reread this verse, noting its truth, its promise, and its rest.
Now let’s unpack it together.
Truth. Implicit in Daniel’s prayer is the fact that we are not by nature righteous, and we cannot approach God with a righteousness we do not inherently have. Quoting from Psalm 14, Paul writes “There is no one righteous, not even one.”1 Daniel’s confession likewise aligns us with this essential truth, putting God and us on the same page: our relationship with Him is not based on our insufficient merit, but God’s essential goodness. And aren’t we glad!
Promise. Inherent in Daniel’s prayer is the promise of God’s “great mercy.” God is merciful by nature, and it is in mercy that He hears our prayers and answers them. God “delights in mercy,”2 proclaims Micah, and this is His heart toward us. How reassuring!
Rest. Inferred in Daniel’s prayer is our need for a righteousness we cannot earn through our effort. The good news is that we have such a right standing with God “through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God on the basis of faith.”3 Paul writes, “For as by [Adam’s] disobedience the many were made sinners, so by [Jesus’] obedience the many will be made righteous.”4 Our right standing before God is not earned through toil and seized by merit; it is given in love and received in gratitude. God has done what we could not; and we find peace in the assurance of His provision. What a relief.
Then standing firmly on truth of God’s righteousness and in the promise of His mercy, “Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”5 And in His presence, we rest.
Hear me as I pray, O Lord. Be merciful and answer me! My heart has heard you say, “Come and talk with me.” And my heart responds, “Lord, I am coming.” — Psalm 27:7-8 NLT
1 Romans 3:10 NIV
2 Micah 7:18 NASB
3 Philippians 3:9 NIV
4 Romans 5:19 ESV
5 Hebrews 4:16 ESV
The Heart of the Matter
“When they came to the place called the Skull, they crucified him there. . . Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” — Luke 23:33-34 NIV
Did you ever notice?
Amid the extreme chaos of the most pivotal day in human history — the Son of God betrayed, mocked, misrepresented, beaten, surrendered in appeasement, and now suffering an excruciating death — Jesus interceded to His Father on behalf of His tormentors: “Father, forgive them.” But did you ever notice that they never asked? His enemies never asked Jesus for forgiveness, yet He pleaded it on their behalf anyway. How opposite our natural tendency to release a grudge only at the fickle price of a suitable apology.
We could say, “Well, Jesus is God; mere mortals are not built that way.” True, we are not; our self-will demands we live life on our terms and not God’s. But let us witness another execution, the stoning of Stephen. His capital crime? Declaring Jesus to be standing at the right hand of God. Listen to Luke’s historic account of this believer’s last words. “As they stoned him, Stephen prayed, ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.’ He fell to his knees, shouting, ‘Lord, don’t charge them with this sin!’ And with that, he died.”1 Had his self-appointed executioners asked for forgiveness? No. But Stephen forgave them anyway and he petitioned Jesus to do the same. Instead of appealing for justice, he cried out for mercy.
How do we reach such a point where harbored animosity ebbs and the tide of charity floods its place? Consider Luke’s description of Stephen — “a man full of God’s grace and power.”2 Therein lies the spiritual means for the naturally impossible: As we realize the depth of our sin and the divine price at which it is expunged, we grow in our embrace of God’s grace. This grace overflows its human reservoirs, pouring over in its many forms to others. When the scorned woman anointed Jesus’ feet and wiped them with her tears, for instance, Jesus said to her antagonists, “She was forgiven many, many sins, and so she is very, very grateful.”3 The grace of forgiveness liberates us this way.
Spend some time today considering and appreciating God’s undeserved, yet limitless favor toward you. In humility before Him, think also of those who need to experience your forgiveness, even if they haven’t asked for it. Then, in God’s grace and power, release them for good.
“Be kind to one another, compassionate, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you.” — Ephesians 4:32 NASB
Father, Your goodness and faithfulness toward me, a sinner, is humbling. Indwell me through Your Spirit of grace and power, that I would be a vessel of grace and forgiveness to others. In Christ I pray. Amen.
1 Acts 7:59-60 NLT, emphasis added
2 Acts 6:8 ESV, emphasis added
3 Luke 7:47 The Message