My thoughts (David Squire):

Poor Thomas! It seems he’s remembered only as “Doubting Thomas”, and held up as a bad example. But I admire him.

It would have been so much easier for him to just follow the crowd. All his friends were saying they had seen Jesus, and it must have been so tempting to go along, not make waves, say and do the “right” things, even if he didn’t believe it. Church community can be that way, sometimes.

But he couldn’t do it. He dared to be honest with himself, and with his faith community. He refused to be silent and pretend to believe something he didn’t.

That’s a hard thing to do.

I was raised in a faith tradition that practically worshiped the Bible. Using terms like “verbal plenary inspiration” and a handful of proof-texts, they claimed that the Bible is the literal “Word of God.” They taught that it is infallible in its teachings on spiritual matters, and accurate in history and science, as well. But there was always a part of me, a voice in my soul, that said, “I think you’re wrong about that.” All of their carefully-crafted reasoning felt like a house of cards.

Forcing myself to believe what is unbelievable to me doesn’t just make me a phony, it wastes my capacity for faith.

I think of it this way: I’m not sure what unit we can use to measure faith, but let’s say it’s quarts. And assume God has given me the capacity for two quarts of faith. Often in my past, it felt like it took a quart-and-a-half just to convince myself that what they said about the Bible was really true. So I had very little spiritual energy left for what really mattered — the tough stuff that life throws at us, and working out my relationship with God. Once I was able to jettison what wasn’t true — once I was able to be honest about what I could and couldn’t believe — I found reserves of faith I didn’t know were possible.

And look at what “doubting” got for Thomas: a personal appearance by Jesus Christ, just for him, to give him the assurance that his belief was not in vain.

That’s what I found, too. Once I was able to say, “Jesus, I won’t believe this unless you show me,” I found that Jesus was quite willing to lead me in my search for truth.

Thought for the day: What areas of your faith feel forced or dishonest? It’s safe to say to God, just like Thomas did, “I won’t believe it unless you show me.”

We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. If you need help getting started, consider the guidelines on the How to Pray page.

My thoughts (David Squire):

When I was 18 years old, about six months after I graduated from high school, my kidneys failed. (If this isn’t news to you, it may be because I’ve written about it before.) That experience is probably the most defining “loss” I’ve yet to experience.

As I pondered this scripture, that experience came back to me. I can relate to Mary as she struggles with something that has ripped her world apart. Mary’s reaction (v 32-33) is where I found myself sometimes. She’s sobbing, and says to Jesus, “…if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

I’ve heard that explained as simply her statement of faith in Jesus’ power. Really? Words on the page can be so flat sometimes — if you’ve tried to tell a joke or express sarcasm in an email, you know what I mean. When I read Mary’s words, I hear red-hot anger in her voice: If you had been here, like you were supposed to be, Jesus, my brother would not have died!

Jesus had received word of Lazarus’ illness in plenty of time to do something, but he didn’t. God, why are you doing this to me? Why are You letting this happen to me?

The book of John makes the point, over and over again, that when we look at Jesus, we see God. So if we take a look at Jesus as he experienced this loss, maybe we can get a glimpse into the heart of God in our times of loss. I see three things we can learn that may bring some understanding and comfort:

• God sees the big picture, and we don’t. Jesus wasn’t in a hurry to get to Lazarus — he knows that it’s all in God’s hands, come what may. But imagine Mary and Martha’s anguish — and wounded faith — when they send word to Jesus, but Jesus doesn’t respond. It must have felt like Jesus didn’t care. Ever been there?
• “Jesus wept.” He feels the pain, just as we do. God understands, and is there with us. (I definitely don’t understand why God doesn’t just fix it more often, though.)
• Whatever happens, it’s for God’s purpose. Mary’s reaction was a perfectly normal, human response to great loss — blind anger that lashed out. But if our purpose in life is to follow God, why do we react with anger when we experience loss? Every loss we face is another situation where God’s will can be revealed, and where we can learn more of God’s purpose. (That sounds holier-than-thou and pie-in-the-sky to me, even as I type it, but something in me tells me it’s true.)

Here’s a song that has meant a lot to me. It’s Casting Crowns’ Praise You in This Storm.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Thought and prayer for the day: When I face loss, large or small, I can either look inward, or upward. God, help me look to you, and know that you are with me in this.

We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. Use the item above as a starting point, or consider the guidelines on the How to Pray page.

My thoughts (David Squire):

Today’s reading is a “repeat”, but it seems to me it’s worth looking at in a little more depth. Jesus really lays some serious things on the line. In this passage he claimed that his words are the way to life, and that has to be one of the most important claims we’ll ever consider.

It appears he was talking to people who were followers, but had ceased to follow. I guess I see them as “fans” of Jesus. He was cool to be around — he said thought-provoking things, and you never know when a miracle would break out! — but they hadn’t made any fundamental shift in their way of thinking or living.

I know that I struggle with some of the things Jesus taught. Earlier this year, the Indiana General Assembly passed the first round of the process that will add an amendment to the state constitution to ban marriage for gay people. The wording of the amendment also bans any other form of recognition, like civil unions, and could jeopardize company-provided benefits or even private contracts like wills or powers of attorney.

As I watched the debate surrounding this process (as much as I could stomach), I was sometimes seething with anger over how the House and Senate will pander to the meanest, most narrow-minded subset of their constituency, and use my family as a target and scapegoat. But even when I’m so angry it’s making me ill and I want to strike back, I still can’t forget the call from Jesus to a way that is higher. For me, that often takes me to Matthew 5:

But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; That you may be the children of your Father which is in heaven…. Matthew 5:44-45

I remember these words of Jesus, and I think, “But I don’t want to love them, or bless them, or do good to them.” The best I’ve been able to do, so far, is half-heartedly pray for them.

And that’s just one example. I’m sure you can think of plenty of other ways we all marginalize the magnitude of change Jesus asks of us.

Thought and prayer for the day: Am I a follower of Jesus, or just a fan?

We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. Use the item above as a starting point, or consider the guidelines on the How to Pray page.

As you read, consider: What might God be saying to me? Summarize your thoughts in a sentence or two.

My thoughts (David Squire):

This is one of those passages that might not really register on first reading. It’s dense and complicated. For me, it’s sort of like reading a big block of Shakespeare, when my brain is accustomed to Facebook updates and YouTube clips. Give me sound bites and bullet points, Jesus!

When we dig in, though, we see some incredible, life-shaping stuff.

Jesus is continuing His conversation with “almost believers.” And he makes several bold claims that go to the heart of his work and mission:

• Jesus claims to know God, to have been sent from God, and that he is doing the work of God. (v 42, 55)
• He states, “Before Abraham was, I am.” (v 58) Interesting that he uses the same name/description for himself that God used at the burning bush to reveal Godself to Moses.
• Jesus challenges us to accept his word as the revelation of God. (v 38)
• Jesus’ claims that his words are the way to life. (v 51)

Jesus says that those who don’t believe His message “are from your father, the devil.” Kind of harsh, don’t you think?

After all, He was speaking to people who were interested in spiritual things. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t have bothered listening to Jesus at all. They “had believed in him” (v 31) at some point, but apparently couldn’t accept some part of Jesus’ message. Perhaps his teachings were just too different from the religion they knew. Maybe they were afraid of where they would end up — or what they’d have to give up — if they took following Jesus seriously.

So if Jesus had these words of rebuke for good, observant, religious people, what would he say to us?

Thought and prayer for the day: Which of Jesus’ truths am I not finding a place for in my life? In what ways am I still living as a slave (or a child of the devil) instead of as a child of God? God, help me with the difficult work of knowing the truth, so the truth will make me free, so I may be your child.

We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. Use the item above as a starting point, or consider the guidelines on the How to Pray page.

My thoughts (David Squire):

We’re beginning a new segment in Be Still and Know on the Gospel of John. It kicked off yesterday with Keith’s entry, I Like Light and I Like Life.

It’s an amazing idea presented here in the opening verses of this gospel — that the creator of the universe would condescend to be in the world and live as one of us.

Here are a few thoughts as we start this new study:

• Doesn’t it seem incredible that “He was in the world. . . .and yet the world didn’t even notice.” John describes Jesus as God’s creative, life-giving, light-giving Word that came to earth in human form. I picture that Word like a benevolent nuclear blast, blowing apart my world-view, and I have little choice but to respond. How can it be that the world didn’t take notice? I guess we’re all creatures of inertia — it’s human nature to remain on the path we’re on — but I don’t want to be oblivious when that creative force is at work around me.
• The book ends by telling us its purpose, but let’s look ahead:

“Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.” John 20:30-31.

That. . .you may have life. The Message describes having that life as being, “…made to be their true selves, their child-of-God selves.” Keep that in mind as we continue.

• As Keith mentioned yesterday, the other gospels almost read as travelogues compared to John, which is much more “abstract.” If it’s hard to wrap your brain around what John is saying, try to let the words just wash over you, let them sink in. Try a different translation for other insights. This gospel is an excellent candidate for lectio divina, or praying the scriptures. Pastor Jeff talked about that ancient prayer practice in this sermon, and there’s even a worksheet.
• John says “No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made God known.” Would you like to see God? Then look to Jesus. That’s what we’ll be doing over the next few weeks.
• The author says that Jesus is the source of grace and truth. I don’t know about you, but I could certainly use more of both.

Thought and prayer for the day: God, show me Your truth. Fill me with Your grace. Lead me closer to You as we explore the gospel of John.

We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. Use the item above as a starting point, or consider the guidelines on the How to Pray page.

My thoughts (David Squire):

Pastor Jeff once wrote about finding a favorite scripture and “growing into” it. This passage is one I’ve been growing into — even when I didn’t know that’s what I was doing.

I grew up in a conservative Christian home. My parents (who have been married 50 years) sacrificed to send their children (all six of us) to a Christian school, where we had Bible classes every day and chapel three times a week. I was a good kid — and pretty sure I was heading on the right path, spiritually speaking.

But about six months after I graduated from that Christian high school, my kidneys failed. Something like that can really throw a monkey wrench in your plans — and make you have questions about your faith. Why would God let something like this happen? I was angry, and confused, and scared.

I probably prayed more in the first six months after my kidneys failed than I had in all the chapel services of the past six years. I found several passages of scripture that gave me hope. Most of them were promises of healing — and I grasped at them and claimed that God would give me physical healing, too. But then there was this one, Isaiah 40:31. At first I thought it was telling me I just needed to wait on God for the renewal of my physical strength. But God was up to something else.

I waited — thinking that a miracle was just around the corner. But in all this “down” time, with all the prayer, I was drawing closer to God. (Funny how that can happen, huh?) My body wasn’t renewing its strength (dialysis really leaves a body dragging, let me tell you) but my soul was starting to learn what it meant to “run and not be weary, walk and not faint.”

It’s fascinating to me how often God has to tell us to cool our jets. Even in the scripture we named this devotional resource after (Psalm 46:10, another of my favorites) God starts by telling us, “Be still…” It’s almost like God sometimes wants to say, “Shut up! Sit down! Stop running around like a crazy person, and just listen!”

A successful transplant a few years later helped the body to catch up to the soul. But this little “detour” I went through helped me to see a few things.

My life really does run on God’s timetable — and I can either understand that and go with the flow, or I can live with the illusion that I set my own agenda, and wonder why I’m always fighting the current. And while I thought I was waiting for my body to be made strong again, God wanted to work on my heart — and that’s vastly more important. They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength…

Thought for the day: Being still — waiting — is a holy act.

We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. If you need a place to start, consider the guidelines on the How to Pray page.