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- Written by: Don Goulding
For just as the body without the spirit is dead, so also faith without works is dead. (James 2:26)
The few Christians surviving in Pakistan are unpretentious souls. Beige and brown clothes, mud colored houses, food cooked over a dried cow dung fire—it’s one of the simplest and most beautiful lives I’ve encountered. And these humble children of God gave me a sublime lesson about a complex doctrine.
A brother sat in a chair in front of everyone, posing as one of the many donkey cart drivers of the village. Another brother played the part of the donkey, but he pushed the cart with his head. Rolling laughter told us the Pakistanis saw the problem and understood the analogy to a Biblical truth.
The Apostle Paul speaks definitively on faith when he says, “For by grace you are saved through faith, and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God; it is not from works, so that no one can boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9). Likewise, James is accurate in claiming faith without works is dead. Paul is speaking of the donkey, and James talks about the cart. Both parts working together carry me to salvation and must come in the correct order. Good deeds cannot push faith. Faith must pull good deeds.
God paid the full price on the cross for grace out of his own resources, and now he only requires that we not treat his colossal gift cheaply. Only a donkey of faith pulling a cart of works demonstrates our grasp of how much God spent. Good works by themselves accomplish nothing because our charitable deeds will never remove the sin that holds us apart from God. Likewise, an unburdened donkey of belief, frolicking about, is so insincere as to be pointless. I need a donkey pulling a cart—faith in the blood of Jesus that is reflected in my works.
Prayer: God, my Savior, may my life demonstrate my faith in your provision.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
If you have known me, you will know my Father too. And from now on you do know him and have seen him. (John 14:7)
I wondered if a guy I knew in college would be interested in our friendship after thirty years. Oceans of life had pushed our continents apart. Did we even know each other anymore?
When I reached out, I heard the same cheerful voice I knew in college. Of course, I knew this guy—my old friend, Dave. We’d both changed, but I recognized his one-of-a-kind heart within seconds.
In Luke 13, Jesus said admission to God’s feast will be conditional on knowing the master. He warned us that many will knock and the banquet master will reply, “I don't know you or where you come from.”
Do I truly know Jesus?
The Lord told his apostles that they did know him and, therefore, knew his Father, too. But they ate and lived with Jesus. Me, not so much.
Judas, the betrayer, touched and spoke with Jesus, yet he never truly knew him, not the true essence of who he was. That lost soul didn’t understand Jesus’s heart. It doesn’t matter that I live in a different place on history’s timeline. I still have a chance to know the real Jesus, unlike Judas, who never did.
To know Jesus, I must go past my five senses, past my intellect, and press my heart into union with him. I must exchange my pettiness for his love. I have to hunger for his righteousness and seek to assimilate his teachings into my life.
By engaging Jesus in my inmost being, I come to know him more profoundly than any physical experience. I recognize his one-of-a-kind heart, full of love, humility, and joy.
Prayer: Awesome Jesus, thank you for allowing me to know you truly.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Therefore, so that I would not become arrogant, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, a messenger of Satan to trouble me - so that I would not become arrogant. I asked the Lord three times about this, that it would depart from me. But he said to me, “My grace is enough for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:7-9)
I have a gorilla on my back. I can never turn far enough to see it, but I stagger under its weight. Primal grunts come from behind, and people give me strange looks. They must be shocked at the size of my gorilla.
My ape is noisy and rude. Everywhere I go, he interrupts with inappropriate habits and offensive banter. He is to blame for the temptations in my life, my ailing body, and soured relationships.
My gorilla whispers dark thoughts and tricks me into thinking they are my own. Depression, anger, apathy—he has a long repertoire of weedy ideas to plant.
I slap my back, but my gorilla only laughs and digs in. Try as I may, I can’t shake off this exhausting weight.
I asked Jesus to get rid of the beast, to lift it from my back and set me free. He said no, because I don’t hold his hand tightly when there’s no gorilla. He would do anything to ensure I never let go of his hand. He even allows the hated ape on my back.
If Jesus said this is the way it is, then that’s how it will stay. I have to keep the gorilla until I die. So I’ll cling to the hand of Jesus and ask him to correct each whisper from my gorilla. There will be a lot of hand-squeezing and much correcting.
Prayer: Be close, Jesus, and help me with the weight of my temptations.