Three young Jewish men were once confronted with a momentous decision: worship a golden idol or face the murderous rage of the king. With the benefit of hindsight, we know how their story ends. But when they made that crucial decision, they did not know how it would end. These three young men were some of the first to be taken as exiles from the conquered Jerusalem (Daniel 1:3-4). Ripped from their home country, they were taken to the far-away city of Babylon where they were trained in all the customs of that nation. Their indoctrination included new identities; their Jewish names (Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah) were discarded and they were forced to adopt new Babylonian names, the names we usually know them by: Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. 

In this foreign land, surrounded by all the pressures and influences of a pagan culture, these young men would have had every reason to give up their faith in the God of Israel and completely assimilate to the ways of the polytheists around them. But against all odds, these three young men clung to their faith in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God who performed amazing signs when he led his people out of the land of Egypt and into the promised land all those hundreds of years before.

The test of their faith came when the King commanded all his subjects to worship the golden image that he made (Daniel 3:1-12). For loyal Jews, it was unthinkable to worship anything or anyone other than God himself. Knowing the penalty that disobedience to the King’s command would bring, the three young men resolved that they would not worship the image. They were promptly summoned before the king and given one more chance: worship the image or be thrown into a furnace. These men had the faith to reply to the King, “…we have no need to answer you in this matter. If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O King. But if not, be it known to you, O King, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up” (Daniel 3:16-18). The young men trusted that God was able to save them from the anger of the king and the power of the fire, but regardless of whether or not he would choose to save them, they refused to betray their God, come what may. This extraordinary faith was rewarded by God, who did in fact save them from the fire. Their faith became a powerful witness in their own day and an incredible example for us. These were men who by their faith “quenched the power of fire” (Heb. 11:34). Christian, there is nothing that your God cannot do! Resolve to have the faith these men had, and remain faithful to God, come what may.

It is very important for parents raising children to follow through with their promises, both of punishment for wrong behavior and reward for right behavior. Empty words without action destroy a child’s confidence that his father and mother mean what they say. God, like a good father, never made empty promises to the Israelites. God was faithful to his word to reward obedience and faithful to his word to punish disobedience. He was consistent in giving them what they deserved according to the terms of the covenant that he made with them.

Thus, given their repeated and blatant disregard for the covenant, it was only right that God should punish his people with exile, as he had promised he would do (Deut. 28:64). But in their culture, the welfare of a nation was thought to reflect the power of its god; thus for the nation of Judah to be conquered and exiled was all the evidence the foreign nations needed to conclude that their gods were more powerful than Yahweh, the God of Judah. To address this issue and vindicate his name in the eyes of the nations, God promised to act once again on behalf of his people. 

While they were in exile, the Lord told his people through the prophet Ezekiel, “It is not for your sake, O house of Israel, that I am about to act, but for the sake of my holy name, which you have profaned among the nations to which you came. And I will vindicate the holiness of my great name… And the nations will know that I am the LORD… I will take you from the nations and gather you from all the countries and bring you into your own land… And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules” (Ezekiel 36:22-27).

In this passage, God promised to bring his people back from exile. This promise was fulfilled when King Cyrus allowed the Jews to return to their land and rebuild Jerusalem (Ezra 1). God also promised to begin a marvelous renewal among his people, described as giving them new hearts and putting his Spirit within them. This promise was fulfilled in the coming of Jesus Christ, who inaugurated a new covenant that began in Jerusalem and then spread throughout the entire world. It is one of the greatest blessings of the new covenant that we now have the Spirit of God within us! God’s Spirit is with us to strengthen, comfort, and empower us. And as Ezekiel said, Spirit-filled people walk in God’s statutes and carefully keep his word. The question for you and I, then, is this: Does my life bear the fruit (i.e. evidence) of the Spirit?

In the days before radar and Ring video doorbells, the job of the watchman of a city was critical. It was his job to be alert and constantly on the lookout for any dangers that could threaten the city, especially dangers that come in the form of enemy forces marching on the city in time of war. If he saw an approaching threat, he was to raise the alarm immediately. Time was of the essence. The sooner the inhabitants of the city were alerted, the better chances they had of being prepared to meet the danger and respond appropriately. The job was a stewardship of trust on behalf of the people, whose welfare depended on the watchman doing his job properly. Falling asleep while on watch has always been treated as a serious crime, since it could lead to devastating consequences for many others.

You can guess exactly what this has to do with us. We don’t have watchmen any more who patrol the physical walls of the city, but you and I are watchmen with a spiritual job description. Our job is to warn other people—our family, neighbors, co-workers—of coming spiritual danger. And falling asleep while on duty is no less serious for us than it was for watchmen back in the day. God made this point abundantly clear to the prophet Ezekiel. He said, “So you, son of man, I have made a watchman for the house of Israel. Whenever you hear a word from my mouth, you shall give them warning from me. If I say to the wicked, O wicked one, you shall surely die, and you do not speak to them to warn the wicked to turn from his way, that wicked person shall die in his iniquity, but his blood I will require at your hand. But if you warn the wicked to turn from his way, and he does not turn from his way, that person shall die in his iniquity, but you will have delivered your soul” (Ezekiel 33:7-9).

The reality is that if Ezekiel failed to faithfully discharge his duties as a watchman for the house of Israel and people died in their sin, Ezekiel was partially responsible for their demise. Though not guilty for their sins, by failing to warn them he becomes complicit in their condition. On the flip side, Ezekiel was not responsible for their demise if they refused to hear his warning. In that case, they alone would bear the consequences for their actions. As the recipients of God’s greatest and final revelation through Jesus Christ (Heb. 1:1-2), this ought to be a sobering passage. We know the answer to people’s greatest need. We know the standard by which all people will be judged. We know the God who loves all people and longs for them to be in a relationship with him. If we know all this and do nothing to share it with others, then whose is the greater guilt, theirs or ours?

Most people who get a taste of power, popularity, and influence have a very hard time letting go. This fact is what makes the ancient story about the Roman politician Lucius Cincinnatus (c. 519–c. 430 BC) so remarkable. In times of great crisis, the Roman senate could elect a dictator who was given absolute power in a last-ditch effort to handle the crisis. He was expected to lay aside his powers after resolving the threat. It was impossible that giving one man such great power didn’t also bring with it the temptation to misuse that power and to hold on to it after the crisis was over. Some dictators did indeed abuse that power, but Cincinnatus was so highly respected by his fellow state officials that not once but twice he was made dictator by the senate. On both occasions, he used his power to quickly resolve the threat and then promptly resigned, turning his power back over to the senate. He was long remembered by the Romans as a model of selflessness and service to his people.

This story about Cincinnatus reminds me of a story in the Bible about another man who knew his place and was strong enough and humble enough to let go of his influence and position—John the Baptist. Before Jesus even began his ministry, John was leading a wildly successful campaign in the wilderness, teaching the people about the kingdom of God and baptizing crowds of people (Matt. 3: 5-6). John was called by God for this moment in time. His job was to prepare the people for Jesus. But how tempting would it have been for John to make it all about himself when he saw how popular his message was and how many scores of people were following him? But John didn’t make it about himself. He knew his place in the story and he stuck to it. Then Jesus began his own ministry, which would quickly begin to eclipse John’s ministry (John 4:1-2), and John’s response shows us exactly where his loyalties were. 

Some of John’s followers came to him and said “Rabbi, he who was with you across the Jordan (i.e. Jesus)—look, he is baptizing, and all are going to him” (John 3:26). John could have been disgruntled that the success of Jesus’ ministry was taking away from John’s ministry. Instead, he said, “A person cannot receive even one thing unless it is given him from heaven. …I said, ‘I am not the Christ, but I have been sent before him.’ …The friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom’s voice. Therefore this joy of mine is now complete. He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:28-30). He couldn’t have said it any better. Like John, we have a role to play in God’s story. But it’s God’s story. It’s not about us—it’s all about Jesus. Don’t try to make it about you. Make it about Jesus.

There is a song I grew up singing in church that takes its lyrics nearly word-for-word from the book of Lamentations: “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases. His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning. Great is thy faithfulness. ‘The Lord is my portion’ says my soul. Therefore, I will hope in him. Therefore I will hope in him” (Compare Lamentations 3:22-24). These words are meaningful at face value—a declaration of God’s unending love and faithfulness and a resolve to trust in him. But the words of this song are even more impactful when understood in their context. Jeremiah did not write these words from a place of security, comfort, or ease. In fact, quite the opposite.

First, we have to remind ourselves that Lamentations is a lament (a cry of weeping and mourning) about the destruction of God’s temple and the city of Jerusalem. And we get a vivid description of that event in Jeremiah 51-52. “In the fifth month, on the tenth day of the month… Nebuzaradan the captain of the bodyguard, who served the king of Babylon, entered Jerusalem. And he burned the house of the Lord, and the king’s house and all the houses of Jerusalem; every great house he burned down. And all the army of the Chaldeans, who were with the captain of the guard, broke down all the walls around Jerusalem” (Jer. 52:12-14). What a devastating sight it would have been to see the temple of the Lord desecrated, its gold and silver stripped and hauled off, and what was left torched.

How could this happen? How could the house of the Lord be trampled by the foreigners, the very enemies of God and his people? Where was God and why was he allowing the pagans to boast in their victory over Judah and the god of the Jews? This was a dark and bitter time for the Jews as they watched their capital city burn before their eyes.

Although it would have been easy for the people to blame or question God in the face of this destruction, it was the very character of God which gave Jeremiah confidence and hope in the midst of such unspeakable defeat. Near the very center of the book of Lamentations is Jeremiah’s confident expression of hope in God: “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: the steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness” (Lam. 3:21-23). And Jeremiah is exactly right. God is faithful to reward the obedient, and faithful to punish the disobedient. He’s always loving, and always faithful. Jeremiah’s declaration and focus on God is all the more remarkable when we recognize the defeat and destruction he was surrounded by. At a time like that, only God’s faithfulness and loyal love could bring Jeremiah hope.

There is just something about mountains that calls my name. I love being around mountains and hiking on them. One of my dreams is to one day summit a snow-capped mountain out in the western states. I’ve had the opportunity to be near several major mountains, including Mt. Hood, Mt. St. Helens, Mt. Adams, and Mt. Blue Sky (formerly Mt. Evans). Each mountain is different and beautiful in its own way. There’s just something special about being around mountains like these or climbing up their slopes and looking up at the peak above you and down at the valleys below.

In the Bible, there are many “mountain-top” experiences. Noah’s ark rested on the mountains of Ararat (Genesis 8:4), Abraham sacrificed on Mt. Moriah (Genesis 20:2), Moses received the law on Mt. Sinai (Exodus 19:3), and Elijah defeated the prophets of Baal on Mt. Carmel (1 Kings 18:20). But certainly one of the most unique “mountain-top” experiences has to be the transfiguration of Jesus. Mark records it for us in Mark 9:2-13. For Jesus’ inner circle of disciples—Peter, James and John—it was a crucial point in their understanding of Jesus’ role in God’s plan. 

Jesus was on a mountain with these three men when his appearance was dramatically changed. His glory shone through in a moment of splendor, dazzling his disciples and terrifying them. Suddenly, the disciples saw that Jesus was accompanied by Elijah and Moses, two of the greatest figures from the history of the Jewish people. Peter, always one to speak up, suggested that they build three tabernacles, one for each of the men before them. Peter no doubt meant this as a high compliment to Jesus, to suggest that he ought to be honored alongside the greatest prophet and law-giver from history. But this is a teaching moment for the disciples. A cloud overshadowed them and a voice from heaven said, “This is my beloved Son; listen to him” (Mark 9:7). After these words, Moses and Elijah were nowhere to be seen. Clearly, God used this mountain-top experience to single out Jesus and show the disciples that Jesus is greater than Moses and Elijah. But right on the heels of this glorious scene, Jesus had a further message for his disciples: they were to tell no one of the vision until after Jesus had risen from the dead. Jesus’ disciples were confused by this. They understood that he was the glorious Son of God, but they did not know what he meant by rising from the dead.

The lesson is that Jesus is not only the highly exalted Son of God in glory on the mountain top, he is also the suffering Son of Man, who descends the mountain to return to Jerusalem where he will die for the sins of his people; but not only will he die, he will rise from the dead, conquering sin and death, and be exalted to the right hand of God for all eternity to make intercession for us. 

The prophet Daniel in the Old Testament is famous for his godliness. Even when he knew that it was illegal to pray to anyone but the king of Babylon, he nevertheless continued to pray to the LORD, the One True God. We’re familiar with that example of Daniel’s godliness and courage, but there’s another way that he is exemplary: Daniel read his “Bible.” I put “Bible” in quotes because, of course, Daniel didn’t have the entire Bible that we have today. But we know that while Daniel was in exile, he read the Scriptures that were available to him. We know this because Daniel himself tells us about an example of this very thing.

Daniel tells us that when he was old, “In the first year of Darius the son of Ahasuerus… in the first year of his reign, I, Daniel, perceived in the books the number of years that, according to the word of the LORD to Jeremiah the prophet, must pass before the end of the desolations of Jerusalem, namely, seventy years” (Dan. 9:1-2). By opening the Scriptures, Daniel gained an understanding of the timeline of what God was doing with the kingdom of Judah. Daniel looked back to these words given to Jeremiah years before and understood that the captivity of Judah was coming to an end.

The passage that Daniel references is found in Jeremiah 25. God rebuked the people of Jerusalem for their continued rebellion and for continually breaking the covenant, even though God had persistently warned them with prophet after prophet. As punishment for their stubborn rebelliousness, God promised to destroy their land and send Judah and her neighboring countries into exile. “This whole land shall become a ruin and a waste, and these nations shall serve the king of Babylon seventy years” (Jer. 25:11). Not long after, Jerusalem was indeed conquered and its people—including a young man named Daniel—were taken captive to Babylon.

Isn’t it amazing that Daniel read the same words of Jeremiah that we have in our Bibles today? When we read the Bible, we’re reading the same Scriptures that God’s people have read and loved and obeyed for hundreds and even thousands of years. It should give us a strong sense of solidarity with all of God’s people throughout the centuries. As those who live after the first coming of Christ, we have the blessing of having the complete Bible. Like Daniel, we can read the writings of Jeremiah, but we can also read the rest of the Old Testament and the whole New Testament, too. God has blessed us by giving us his word. Are you reading it? Are you growing in your understanding of it? It will not do us any good if it’s just sitting on the bookshelf, but if we open it up and read it and pray for God’s guidance, then like Daniel, we will gain understanding of what God is doing in the world. 

For years now there is something I’ve really wanted to do but never attempted. Since I learned about it, I’ve always wanted to graft a tree branch onto another tree. Horticulturalists can do this to improve the quality of their produce or to grow more fruit on a hardy, disease-resistant tree. With some care and skill, the gardener can cut a branch from its own tree and splice it into a branch on another tree, where it will grow and produce its fruit. Of course, there are some limits to grafting—you cannot graft a branch onto just any tree—but when working within the same family of plants, an arborist can use grafting to achieve a healthier, stronger crop on his fruit trees.

Paul used an analogy from grafting to encourage the Christians in Rome to keep the faith and continue believing in Christ Jesus. Paul’s analogy uses an olive tree to represent God’s chosen people. His analogy describes the change that came with the dawn of the New Covenant. Under the New Covenant, being a descendant of Abraham has nothing to do with belonging to God’s covenant; but having the same kind of faith that Abraham exhibited has everything to do with being a member of God’s covenant. Thus, when Jesus was rejected by the majority of the Jews, God rejected them for their unbelief. They were like branches broken off from the tree, symbolizing that they no longer belonged among God’s people. And Gentile Christians who put their faith in Jesus were welcomed into God’s people, even though they were not descended from Abraham.

“But if some of the branches were broken off, and you, although a wild olive shoot, were grafted in among the others and now share in the nourishing root of the olive tree, do not be arrogant toward the branches… They were broken off because of their unbelief, but you stand fast though faith. So do not become proud, but fear. For if God did not spare the natural branches, neither will he spare you. Note then the kindness and severity of God: severity toward those who have fallen, but God’s kindness to you, provided you continue in his kindness. Otherwise you too will be cut off” (Romans 11:17-22).

The point Paul is making is that none of us deserve a spot on the olive tree. The Jews who refused to believe in Jesus were cut off, and Gentile Christians who did believe in Jesus were graciously grafted into the tree. We belong to God’s people not because of how good we are, but because of how good God is. Only when we put our trust in Christ can we receive God’s gracious gift and belong to his people. Christian, resolve to never let your identity as a child of God lead you to be prideful or arrogant. You’re not in God’s family because you deserve it, but because God is gracious. Praise God, who was gracious enough to graft us into his family.

In the eighth grade, my class at school participated in a mock trial. This was the biggest event of the entire eighth grade program and something that we looked forward to for years. Our trial was based on a real criminal trial from South Carolina and included witness statements, maps, and expert testimony. Each student was to be assigned a role to play in the mock trial, either as an attorney or a witness. But our class of six students was so small that we all had to double up. For example, I was both a defense attorney and a prosecution witness. What this meant was that we all had to know both sides of the case really well. What could go wrong, right?

The week finally came for us to face off two nights in a row against teams from nearby schools. The trial was held in the Charlotte Federal Courthouse and overseen by a real federal judge. We were all as nervous as could be. The first night was a success. Heading into night two, we were confident. While we were on the prosecution side that night, I took the witness stand. During the cross-examination, the other team’s attorney threw some tough questions at me. I got a little frazzled. At one point, I made some long-winded statements, then paused, and to my horror realized that I had slipped back into my defense attorney arguments. I was on the witness stand as a prosecution witness but I had said the exact opposite of what I should have said, playing right to the other team’s advantage. The questions ended shortly and I got down from the stand feeling crushed. I had failed my team. I feared that my mistake would cost the whole team any chance we had of winning.

While the jury recessed, I whispered to my teammates how bad I felt for messing things up. They were kind and didn’t seem bothered. And you know what? We still won that night. Despite my mistake, we still won because it was a fantastic team that had worked really hard to be prepared. One mistake didn’t undercut all the work of preparation.

Sometimes in life we feel like a failure. And when we’ve messed up, it’s good to acknowledge where we went wrong and own up to our mistakes. But it’s not okay to get stuck in the past. The moments when you feel like you’re a failure are the times when it’s most important to be surrounded by a winning team that has got your back. And that’s exactly what the church is. Because of God’s transformative power at work in us, we are a winning team. Don’t try to go through life on your own. It’s much better to be part of a family—because you will fail; you will mess up; we all do. But when you do, someone’s there to catch you.

“Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.” 1 Thess. 5:11.

How often do you lie awake at night thinking about someone who has wronged you? How often do you know you need forgiveness from another person, but you’re scared to ask for it? How often do you wonder if God can forgive what you’ve done? Giving and asking for forgiveness can be some of the most difficult things we ever do, but if we are going to thrive in our personal relationships—especially in marriage—we have to learn how to do both. What is a two-way street in marriage, however, is a one-way street when it comes to our relationship with God. God, who never sins and is perfect in every conceivable way, never needs our forgiveness; but we need his forgiveness for our rebellion against him.

Many of the Psalms speak to this very need. Take Psalm 85 for example. This Psalm begins with a reflection on God’s forgiveness and restoration of his people. “LORD, you were favorable to your land; you restored the fortunes of Jacob. You forgave the iniquity of your people; you covered all their sin. You withdrew all your wrath; you turned from your anger” (Ps. 85:1–3). Based on instances of God’s forgiveness in the past, the psalmist then pleads for that same forgiveness and restoration in his day: “Restore us again, O God of our salvation… Show us your steadfast love, O LORD, and grant us your salvation” (4, 7). You and I are in the same position as the psalmist. We look back through the pages of Scripture and we see God’s mercy and patience with his wayward people. And we, like this psalmist, ask God to pour out the same forgiveness and restoration in our days and in our lives. But sometimes we still have a nagging question in the back of our minds, “Can God really forgive me?”

But Psalm 85 doesn’t leave us wondering about how God will respond to our pleas for forgiveness. “Let me hear what God the LORD will speak, for he will speak peace to his people, his saints… Surely his salvation is near to those who fear him…” (8–9). Looking back on Psalm 85 from this side of the cross, we now know why God’s people can have this confidence in his forgiveness. Jesus died on the cross and endured the punishment that you and I deserved. He paid the debt that we owed! He washes us clean from our sins and forgives us over and over again! The cross shows us the depths of God’s love and the heights of his mercy. We can be confident in God’s forgiveness, not because we deserve it (we don’t and we never will!) but because in the act of giving his Son as the sacrifice for our sins, he showed just how great his love is for us. So if you ever wonder, “Can God forgive me?” just remember that he has already given his Son to die for you. And chances are, someone you know needs to hear that God can forgive them of their sins and free them from the guilt they live in. So this week, tell them about our forgiving and gracious God.