For many people Jesus Christ was a mystic healer who lived and taught on the shores of Galilee two thousand years ago. His growing appeal to the populace of a large province under Roman rule, led to his arrest and crucifixion as a subversive. His teachings, simple in form and rich in metaphor, were considered revolutionary, which in essence, they are.

Viewing Christ through the prism of history, transforms Him into someone who lived and died like any other human being. Such a view lodges Jesus in the remote, distant past.
   The Son of God is eternal; He stands beyond time. Assigning Him to temporality deprives Him of his divine nature. Christ is the truth of God and appears to all people in all ages. He has no preference to a specific period in history. He wants to save every single one of us from evil because He knows how easily we are misled.

Jesus Christ will lead us on the way of truth as long as we keep seeing Him as a real presence. The gaze of the Roman centurion at the Man dying peacefully on the cross granted him salvation. A mere gaze.

The Son of God is not expecting us to go through the martyrdom He suffered at the hands of those who ridiculed and mocked Him. He is not expecting us to go through the physical trials and torture that no human being could possibly sustain without breaking down, let alone finding the power to forgive his tormentors, nailed on the Cross.

Christ simply wants us to open our hearts to Him and let His light shine through. He is certain of the effect that His radiance will have once we surrender to Him. Is there a person on this Earth who would turn his or her back to the light of the Truth when it shines all around? But to put the Son of God in our hearts, and let him fill our dark corners with his mercy and forgiveness, we must, first and foremost, feel Him among us ― a contemporary, benevolent, selfless friend who stretches his hand to us, asking us to hold it. How can we hold the hand of someone who is far away?

To see Jesus Christ as our contemporary we must first become eyewitness in faith. The word “eyewitness” is the key term here. An eyewitness swears by his testimony because he was actually there, on the very spot. He saw the event with his own eyes. Likewise, the believer sees with the eyes of his faith, and does not for a moment doubt the truth and reality of what he sees or hears. Such was the faith of the twelve Apostles whom the Nazarene selected among the common lot and said: “Follow me and I will make you fishers of men” (Matthew 4:19).

They were His true contemporaries and became His devoted disciples, out of their own free will. They spread His word through peaceful open talks to gathered crowds in foreign lands. They captivated audiences simply by preaching love, charity, and forgiveness. There was no political motive in their speech, no scheme or intention other than the utter faith to their Teacher.
 
Only faith can erase two thousand years of arguments and doubts, and present the Son of God to each one of us today, as the Truth in the Present, the Eternal Now.

By becoming contemporary with Jesus Christ, we are rewarded with His grace. A reward that exceeds by far any human expectation, for as the Lord said to Paul: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

​by Costas Nisiotis
​Athens, Greece - info@grace-lines.net

The other day while searching for a specific photo among thousands, I came across one I had taken of a business card. The only piece of meaningful information to me was the image. It was that of my daughter. Maybe I should clarify. It was an image of my daughter’s skull and teeth. You see this card is for an imaging centre. All that time and money to straighten those teeth had finally paid off. More in fame than in the pocket. Still, having an image of your perfectly straight teeth published for the world to see, was quite the complement for a high school student.

I studied the image of her teeth and recalled how often my daughter had once been offended by cruel jokes and hurtful remarks about her teeth, from fellow students who would make fun at her expense.  Maybe you have been on the receiving end of similar distressing experiences and find it hard to let go of painful memories; or perhaps you have been one of the perpetrators and find yourself haunted by feelings of guilt and remorse.

Sometimes the shameful or embarrassing moments, be it our own doings or things done to us, are too embarrassing or painful to talk about. Even when we feel that we can’t possibly speak of these things to another person, we can be confident that God will listen. In fact, He already knows. You are much more to God than your mistakes or your feelings of anger and resentment! Our God, being a God of relationships, is more concerned about having a loving relationship with you.

In case you have forgotten, or didn’t know, when we bring our problems and confessions to God, we are lovingly embraced and forgiven. So, let go of the hurts or feelings of guilt! Bury them skeleton deep and forget them! To the hurting, Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30 NIV).  To those burdened with guilt, God says: “I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more” (Isaiah 43:25).

That’s wonderful news when we are feeling broken and torn-up inside for things we have suffered or for sins we have committed! The apostle Paul reminds us that, if God is for us, no one can stand against us! “He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all - how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?” (Romans 8:32 NIV).

You may know people who are against you, or who are quick to judge and tell you you’re no good. But that’s their business and their problem to be reckoned with, not yours. When we understand how God sees us, it no longer matters what others think. Seeing how much he loves us, even with our weaknesses and faults, makes us love him even more.

So, just as we must set aside those things from our past that continue to trouble us and cause us pain, so also, we must forgive those who have hurt us. When we refuse forgiveness, we not only hurt ourselves, but we fail to experience a closer relationship with God.

We need to drop this baggage at God’s feet, forgive those who have hurt us, and walk away. “It will be healing to your flesh and refreshment to your bones” (Proverbs 3:8). With a refreshed heart, it might even be possible for a healing of that relationship. Either way, this forgiveness is for you, not them.

Did you catch in the verse above where God himself says he forgets our sins for his own sake? He forgets for his sake, not ours.  So how do we put painful memories out of our mind and forget them? We must first forgive, just as God forgives us.  Next, we must forget those things others have done to hurt or disappointed us. This doesn’t mean those memories will never resurface. It means that when they do, we can choose to overlook them and avoid, once again, dwelling on troubles of the past.
​
Has God, the all-knowing, truly forgotten our sins? I think probably not, but, because we are now united in Christ (Galatians 3:27; Colossians 3:3), God no longer views us as wrong-doers, or holds our sins against us; having already “raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 2:6 NIV).

​Unlike us, God is not a ‘kitchen-sink fighter’, who hurls our past transgressions at us each time we seek forgiveness. So, forgive, forget, and bury the skeletons of the past. God has.

​The heating and air conditioning system needs to be replaced, the outside of the house needs some work, the furniture has seen better days, the floors need to be refurbished, the appliances are very dated, I probably need surgery number eight, my job is by necessity not by love, and…

I was dreaming about the previously mention items when I woke up swinging my arms. My angel of a wife quietly brought me to reality. Then I heard the voice,” So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” from Matthew 6:31-34.

Whether our income is small or large, the worry over making ends meet can literally suck the life from us. My father had a good saying, “The more you make, the more you spend.” We must keep in mind that high income does not equal no worry. Being a worrier, I used to let this happen to me. This worrier label is strange because I’m an extreme risk taker. I create my own pot of worry, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. The difference between past days and today is my faith.

For some reason, I seem to be at my best when taking risks. It makes me feel alive. My life has always been precarious, at best, when it is traveling along a smooth road. These past ten years, I have shut down to repair my body from earlier risky missions. My Lord has always travelled with me and steered me safely in these missions. Furthermore, I know he has directed me along this smooth road not just to do needed repairs, but also to strengthen my spirit, my faith. In recent days, I have begun to feel ready to leave the safety of the nest…once again to soar skyward. Once more, my wings are strong.

We tend to stay where we feel safe, secure. We feel we must do that to make ends meet when, most often, that security is a myth. Whether those ends are meeting or not, take a risk, try something new. Freshen up your life by taking a risk for our Lord. Occasionally, we need to move from our comfort zones and take risks. In particular, this applies to our faith. Take more risks for God, our Father. If he watches over us in everyday human tasks, how much more will he watch over us if we are attempting to glorify his name.

Have you a sense of adventure? Have you faith? When you find yourself worrying about making ends meet, try taking a risk for our Lord to whom there exists no end.

Trust in the LORD forever, for the LORD, the LORD himself, is the Rock eternal. (Isaiah 26:4 NIV)

by Jim Newton
​Oklahoma, USA -  info@grace-lines.net

My husband and I recently relocated (temporarily) from the East Coast to the West Coast in the USA. We both sensed this was a definite call from God due to a family member in crisis. For me, it’s been much like living in a foreign land, in a place I’m unfamiliar with away from family and friends. We were also suddenly faced with increasing financial need beyond what we could afford when forced to rent in one of the most expensive places in the country. Trusting God was all we could do.

It’s my belief in every season of adversity, our Lord utilizes the raw materials of our suffering with its attached frustrations, irritations, and exhaustion, so you and I draw upon Grace as a significant source of strength. When we find ourselves unable in these unexpected trials, we’ll discover a profound abiding place in our Lord's love.

In the pressure cooker of life, transformation will occur as we learn the art of ‘letting go’ of our self-reliance — our knowledge, beliefs, methods, ingenuity, security, comfort, and friends. Simultaneously, we’ll choose to permit the activity of the spirit of love to continue reorienting, redirecting, and renewing our minds nearer to becoming God’s image-bearers.

No matter what we’re experiencing — good or bad — our most essential 'need' is surrendering to Abba's loving voice. Discerning His voice and making holy choices while responding obediently to Him in spite of our circumstances is all part of the cost of our discipleship in our relationship with Him.

The transformation Abba desires may require suffering and pain. My response, your response, and our collective reaction is a lifestyle of responding, as Father, Jesus, and Holy Spirit reveal the vision of their love and galvanizing Grace within the community.

“Let us therefore draw near with boldness unto the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy, and may find grace to help us in time of need.” (Hebrews 4:16 ASV

“They had such a sharp disagreement that they parted company. Barnabas took Mark and sailed for Cyprus, but Paul chose Silas and left, commended by the brothers to the grace of the Lord.  He went through Syria and Cilicia, strengthening the churches.” (Acts 15:39-41 NIV).

Disagreement lies at the heart of much of this world’s trouble and yet the church of God, comprising members with vastly differing opinions and viewpoints, proudly and rightly boasts of ‘diversity in unity’.  A unity forged among communities of faith by the Holy Spirit (Acts 11:19-20). 

It is unfortunate that most readers of the above passage focus solely on the disagreement as it arose and not on the overall solidarity and unity of purpose that followed.
It should be noted that the sharp disagreement which arose between Paul and Barnabas was not over any doctrinal matter. Their difference of opinion revolved around conflicting viewpoints as to how best the immediate work of mission could be served.  To their credit, neither Paul nor Barnabas allowed their personal opinions, however strongly expressed, to distract them from their respective roles as missionary leaders and servants of the gospel and of the local church.

The young church at Antioch had grown out of social and cultural diversity where, for the first time, Jews and non Jews rejoiced together over the good news concerning Jesus.  Antioch soon became a vibrant missionary centre as a direct result of this oneness of faith and love, forged out of a diverse mix of social and cultural Christian expression. 

The gospel message was found to be strong enough to bind together such an unlikely assembly.  There remained differences, but to paraphrase a popular hymn, ‘their differences became one’.  They were united with a zeal for the gospel which had power to carry the message of the cross over many continents.

Even when a sharp disagreement arose between its two leading missionaries, this loving and spirit led community were quick to commend a solution (Acts 15:36-41 Barnabas and Mark retained their original commission) which resulted in a strengthening and an expansion of the missionary arm of the church, to the blessing and benefit of all (2 Timothy 2:11; Colossians. 4:10-11; I Corinthians 9:6).

In spite of strong differences of opinion, there remained a sense of mutual respect and an ongoing spirit of cooperation and selfless service (I Corinthians 9:6).  Paul and Barnabas were acutely aware that the church is a community that works together as one, a communion of faith where individual differences are forged in a way that serves to strengthen and provide new opportunities, new approaches and new incentives to develop in the common work of the gospel.  It is in this sense that our differences become one. 
​
We need to pray that, through the power of the Holy Spirit, our differences, however sharply expressed at times, may continue to ‘become one’ as we strive together for more effective service and outreach in our collective and local communities of faith. 

   We live under the everlasting sign of progress. Science and technology have elevated the notion of progress to a godhead. Progress, like time’s arrow, always points ahead. Whatever resists progress is branded primitive and archaic.

   Primitivism, in its pure and proper sense, is the essence of religion. The original teachings of Jesus and the Apostles are a soothing balsam to countless generations. Yet the concept of faith has been dealt severe blows by Church Dogmatics. ‘The Church is perfectly pure only when considered as guardian of the sacraments” writes French thinker Simone Weil in Letter to a Priest.

   Christianity does not lend itself to sects and states. It seeks what Søren Kierkegaard calls the Single Individual. The knighthood of faith, declares the Danish theologian, lies within everyone’s reach. Faith is neither a transferable title nor a membership to a club; there are no associates in faith. Political ideologies coalesce people into parties, but faith suffocates in crowds; it is fiercely non-conformist. “Christianity is only suitable for robust natures”, stresses Kierkegaard.  It seeks the individual who can bear its singular demand: humility, true and total; not a morose subservience or an obsequious servility, but a wilful surrender to God. “Humility is a rare virtue and an unfashionable one that is often hard to discern”, notes Iris Murdoch in The Sovereignty of Good. “The humble man, because he sees himself as nothing, can see other things as they are”.
   
  Are we willing to exit from our tower of arrogance? Can we admit our wrongs first to ourselves in sincere self-examination? We must have the humble courage to withdraw from the crowd’s conformity, be alone with ourselves, and turn our gaze inwards. The Kingdom of God is within you, says Luke (17:21). In moments of crisis, the inner voice that becomes audible is God’s love. Faith in God is what keeps love’s fountain flowing in our heart.
 
   The quintessence of faith is a paradox. Since we are not only made of matter our spiritual part enables us ―if we allow it ― to subdue our reason to the paradox of faith and accept God’s awesome mystery in our heart. We do not diminish in intellectual capacity by doing so. “The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious,” Albert Einstein writes. “It is the source of all true art and science.”  

   Thinkers and mystics across the ages keep reminding us that every person has the capacity to surpass himself, but few are willing. The same with faith; although every human being can move closer to God, few rise to the challenge. Rationalism airbrushes our religious spontaneity. Faith, having no worldly anchor, can lift us above our weakness.  Faith in the love of God.

   Oscar Wilde once claimed that “Culture is man’s most precious possession”. Yet in De Profundis, which he wrote in prison, he extols humility in Robin Ross’s silent salute as he walked handcuffed past him on his way to jail. “Men have gone to Heaven for lesser things than that” the contrite artist writes. “It was in this spirit and with this mode of love that the saints knelt down to wash the feet of the poor or stooped to kiss the leper on the cheek”. 
    As a divine blessing “Love can cover a multitude of sins”. Love of the neighbour, Christianity’s fundamental motto, stems from an overflowing love of oneself ― the love of the person who is at one with himself or herself, entirely transparent before God. Christian love is the most selfish and yet the most selfless love in existence. Jesus Christ founded his religion on an all-encompassing love ― not the sentimental mawkishness but the love that stands to embrace all those who suffer, showing no preference or bias, like the good shepherd does with his flock. Being divine, Christian love is completely unsentimental, otherwise it would be another form of human emotion. Love is God’s gift to every human being, a gift that every person ought to receive in humility and in gratitude.
​
   Yet we love in a state of angst; possessively, frantically, desperately. We love in order to be loved; we need to feel loved; we love to feel needed. “Love is the general name of the quality of attachment” writes Iris Murdoch, “but when it is even partially refined, it is the energy and passion of the soul in its search for Good, the force that joins us to the world through Good”.
   To resist the spectre of loneliness we need “strengthening in the Inner Being”, as Paul says to the Ephesians. Only faith can provide this strengthening because faith shapes our most precious and often neglected dimension ― our inwardness. Whoever is capable of genuine compassion towards any form of affliction, acts out of an inward impulse that sets him free. The passion of faith, the love of God, is a freeing passion.  

An old mulberry tree used to grow on my grandparents’ farm. It was the most crooked tree I’ve ever seen. It was tucked into a slope beside the small spring-fed pond and hidden behind the old log cabin that had been the original dwelling on the place. Rather than standing upright, the trunk followed the contour of the ground; only the treetop and a few sturdy branches reached toward the sky. Perhaps it was because it was out of sight of the house that it had escaped the fate of being reduced to firewood. Or perhaps it was because God knew that a dozen grandchildren would one day delight in it.

Years before, when it was a sapling, the tree must have weathered a powerful storm. The wind bent it to the ground and twisted its trunk while it was still tender and pliable. It was rooted in rich soil, always nourished by the pond water near its foot. It grew and grew until the horizontal trunk was as long as a room and wide enough for a child to stroll on. Even the youngest of the cousins could play there safely; one couldn’t fall far enough to get hurt.

The wide canopy of shiny green leaves protected us from the hot sun. In mid-summer, the hard green mulberries ripened to red, purple, and black and provided us with readymade snacks. The birds chattered impatiently as we filled our bellies with the darkest, sweetest berries. Our fingers would be stained with the juice until we were called inside at the end of the day.

There were plenty of other places to play: the broad porches on the white farmhouse, a big barn where we built forts out of hay bales, and pastures and woods with large rocks to climb. We took advantage of them all.

But to me, the mulberry tree was a special domain, my peaceful hideaway. From my perch in its sun-dappled shade, I’d listen for the throaty gunk-gunk-gunk of the frogs in the pond. I could hear the friendly, low honk of a duck and watch as it crisscrossed the dark water. I’d see it suddenly dip below the surface, leaving its white tail waving in the air, then hear the whoosh of the water as it emerged with a tiny squirming fish in its bill. The mulberry tree was a place for me to sit and dream in solitude.

But much of the time, it was a spot that rang with giggles and shouts. Together we cousins marched its length with childlike bravado. We played pretend games as we pondered its ancient secrets. That old tree held a special place in each of our hearts and memories.

The mulberry tree had little monetary value. Its gnarled, half-rotted, crooked trunk would never be hauled to a sawmill to be cut into the long straight boards necessary to build strong houses or fine furniture. It would never become a mighty mast for a ship or even a pole for electric wires.

After my grandparents died and the farm was sold, the old tree disappeared. It may have been used for firewood, or maybe it simply rotted away. It lives on in the memories of my cousins and me. That’s where its true value lies, as a beautiful remembrance of childhoods well-lived.

God works that way. He creates a myriad of things that are tall, straight, majestic, and valuable. He gives them to us to use for our good. But he values the humble and imperfect, too, whether they be trees or people. They are valued because he made them; they are his.

I find that I can be used by God even when I’m bent crooked by storms and am weathered, old, and past my prime. I am still of value to him. He promises to love me with an everlasting love. In turn, I will value those around me and do my best to demonstrate God’s love. It’s then that I can be used for his good purposes.

***
This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.
1 John 4: 10-11 (NIV

So they quickly left the tomb, terrified but also ecstatic, and ran to tell Jesus' disciples (Matthew 28:8 ISV)
 
It was as if a sudden wind of fortune broke upon the lake, driving waves of countless fishes to our barren boats, lying, listless and unready, in a workless bay, and we too wary to venture a catch, for fear our nets would break and all be lost.
 
So it was, when the news was carried to us, like a fragrant balm, on the sweet, enraptured breath of voices fair.  Our hearts were stirred, though, weighted by despair, we dared not trust, lest faith prove false and hope be quenched, so deepening distress.
 
If truly raised, the Lord would to the sons of Jonas and of Zebedee appear, who did his trust and confidence enjoy.  Yet women from the first supplied his needs and at his cross remained while others fled.  Their acts of love fore’er to be remembered and retold.
 
With yearning hearts, we ran the graveward path, the beloved disciple[6] fast on my hastening heels, till when this son of thunder, speeding past, halted at the tomb and looked inside, I raced on in and saw the wondrous sight.  The grave clothes, tightly bound, lay in their place, deflated now and emptied of all flesh.  This grave no longer held the dead and sleeping.  His body gone, just as the women had said.

​​​Mark 14:33; Matthew 26:37; Mark 15:41; Luke 8:1-5; Matthew 27:55-56; Mark 15:40; Luke23:49; John 19:25; Matthew 14:50; Mark 14:3-9; John 13:23; 21:20; Mark 3:17; John 20:4; John 20:6-7

“Today, if you will hear his voice, harden not your hearts,” (Hebrews 4:7b).

The ticking of the clock impresses upon us the urgency of time, of which God would not be our willing prisoner. He is not passively waiting, drumming his fingers while we remain undecided about what to do with Jesus.
As humans, we tend to lock ourselves up in time and duty. In the process, we imagine we must wait before we come to Jesus; wait until we are good enough to serve him, wait until we are strong enough to please him, wait until we are humble enough to move him.  In other words, wait until we are able to overcome our wretched selves by ourselves.

This is not the “waiting upon God” the Bible makes reference to, it is looking inward in unbelief instead of outward to God in faith. Meanwhile, the clock keeps ticking, and the task gets harder. Somehow, we manage to paralyze ourselves waiting for somebody, anybody (except Jesus) to show up with a set of jumper cables and spark us into action!  There is only one good thing that can come out of this spiritual conundrum if we are willing to recognize it. The bondage I describe can make us hate our condition and long for Jesus to deliver us. It can make us want to surrender to God today. If that’s the case, then the Spirit of God has done His work. 

Repentance toward God is turning away from ourselves and turning toward Christ in faith allowing Him to accomplish his will in us through the power of the gospel. It is a reliance on the Spirit of God in Christ and not ourselves.  It is a lifelong exercise empowered by Christ, not a one-time laurel to rest our self-confidence on.
​
Jesus calls us to come to him as we are Today, believing in his power to make us what we ought to be. Only then will we understand Christ is our reward, not because of all we do for him, but because of all He has done for us. We are the prize He died and rose again for. Be blessed to serve him freely, no longer a slave to sin.

"Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is Spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and truth" John 4:23-24.

"The Father seeks worshippers; our worship satisfies His loving heart and is a joy to Him. True worship is that which is in Spirit and truth." by Andrew Murray from 'Teach us to Pray.'

Begin today to lift your voice and raise your inner longing to God in singing praise and worshipping his mighty name.  There is a supernatural uplifting power from the Holy One when we lay aside our tasks and come to Him in adoration, appreciation, and thankfulness.

When I come to God early in the morning and spend this alone time in His most endearing presence, my attitude is adjusted and aligned in His as I go about my day.  It is even more vital now than ever that I remain abiding and nearly intertwined in the life source of Jesus, who is my Lord. His Spirit becomes strength, wisdom, and holiness as a fragrant breath enlightening insight.

Jesus moves, lives, and breathes life and opens my spiritual eyes to the truths of Father's kingdom. When Jesus's life worships God in Spirit and truth from my being, I am ushered into the holy of holies, where the Triune God makes his sacred home inside my human frame.

In this sacred dwelling place, worldly 'stuff' and issues grow dim in the light of his glory and grace. Beholding his majesty and wonder, I am stunned each day when I find myself immersed in this heavenly realm.  All else pairs as dim, and all else fades into the background as His glory manifests in the brilliant array of spectacular and amazing presence.

Go into your secluded space and begin to allow Jesus to praise and worship Father ---- passing through you as spirit-being.  We join in participating and partaking of the divine life of Jesus in touching upon this heavenly realm where God dwells - when we choose to praise and worship.

In this place, we can taste a glimpse of unimaginable, unspeakable, and unexplainable pure bliss and profound holiness.