Category: Devotional

Rites, Rituals, or Relationship?

The vision given to Peter in Acts 10 was a pivotal moment that fundamentally changed the understanding of righteousness within the early Christian community. Peter’s vision didn’t just signal a shift in dietary laws or the inclusion of Gentiles; it marked a transformative shift in what it means to be right with God. No longer was righteousness about a series of rites and rituals or strict adherence to cleanliness laws. Instead, it became about redemption—a new covenant founded on grace, received through faith, and evidenced by the overflow of good deeds as a response to God’s love.

Peter’s initial reaction in Acts 10, where he recoils from the idea of eating anything “impure,” represents his ingrained adherence to the Law as the means to holiness. But God responds by shifting his perspective: “Do not call anything impure that God has made clean” (Acts 10:15). This response encapsulates the gospel’s transformative power, a shift from “do this to be clean” to “you are clean; go and live it.” The moment Peter understood that no external act of cleanliness or ritual was needed to enter into right standing with God, it opened the door to something remarkable—a new motivation for good works rooted in gratitude rather than obligation.

Under the old covenant, a person’s deeds were often driven by a sense of duty. Rites and rituals maintained a relationship with God, but it was a relationship heavily weighted by the need to maintain purity and fulfill ceremonial obligations. In Christ, however, we’re given a different foundation: the righteousness of Christ. Our standing is secure because Jesus accomplished what we could not; He was the “once for all” sacrifice (Hebrews 10:10). This assurance allows us to perform good works as an act of devotion and gratitude, rather than as a duty imposed by law.

The beauty of this reversal lies in the order: we’re not working our way to holiness, but rather, we’re invited to let holiness work in us and through us. Paul writes about this transformation in Ephesians 2:10, saying, “We are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” In other words, good works are the fruit of our relationship with God, not the root.

Peter’s encounter led him to a new way of seeing both God and people. The call to holiness was no longer an isolated adherence to the rules, but an invitation to reflect God’s love to all people, Jew and Gentile alike. When he declares in Acts 10:34-35, “God does not show favoritism but accepts from every nation the one who fears him and does what is right,” it’s a revelation: holiness has been redefined. Relationship—not ritual—takes precedence, and our lives become expressions of this connection.

Today, it’s easy to slip into a mindset where we still feel that “being right with God” is something we have to maintain by doing enough, serving enough, or sacrificing enough. But Jesus already accomplished the “enough.” Instead, we’re called to let His redemption flow outward, so that our deeds become acts of gratitude. This order reversal isn’t just freeing; it’s empowering. We no longer need to strive to make ourselves right with God but are free to let His righteousness transform us and touch the lives of others.

The gospel has always been about a journey from ritual to relationship, from rule-following to redemption. Through Peter’s vision, we’re reminded that in Christ, our acts of love and service are not attempts to earn God’s favor; they’re joyful responses to a favor already given. As we live out our faith, may we remember that we are free to serve, free to love, and free to walk in holiness—not as a way to reach God but as the beautiful outworking of having already been reached by His grace.

The Power of the Ask

In Acts 8, we encounter the story of Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch, a passage that highlights the remarkable power of asking questions. Here, Philip receives a prompting from the Holy Spirit to go to a specific road where he encounters an Ethiopian official reading aloud from Isaiah. Rather than diving straight into a sermon or explanation, Philip begins with a simple question: “Do you understand what you are reading?” (Acts 8:30). This question opens the door to a life-changing conversation, as the eunuch’s curiosity and Philip’s obedience intersect at just the right moment.

Philip’s willingness to ask a straightforward question gives the eunuch an opportunity to express his need: “How can I [understand], unless someone guides me?” (Acts 8:31). From there, Philip shares the Gospel, leading the eunuch to faith in Jesus and immediate baptism. This story reminds us that sometimes the most profound ministry happens not through grand speeches, but through simple, Spirit-led questions that show a genuine interest in the other person.

In our own lives, we often underestimate the value of a question. A gentle, open-ended inquiry can open doors we didn’t even know were there. Philip’s example teaches us to be observant and sensitive to the Spirit’s prompting, looking for moments to engage with those around us. We don’t need to have every answer or a well-rehearsed speech; sometimes, a single question—one that shows care and sparks curiosity—is all that’s needed to start a transformative conversation.

Wherever we find ourselves, whether it’s in a coffee shop, workplace, or even on a casual walk, we are not there by accident. God places us in specific situations and brings us into contact with certain people for a reason. Like Philip, we’re called to be obedient to His leading, staying open to opportunities to ask the right questions. As we ask, listen, and respond, God can work through us in powerful ways to share His love and truth.

If We Want to SEE Jesus, We Need to NEED Jesus

The account of Stephen in Acts 7 stands as one of the most powerful examples of faith under fire. Known for his wisdom and filled with the Holy Spirit, Stephen is brought before the Sanhedrin on false charges. As he boldly shares the truth, he faces increasing hostility, yet instead of shrinking back, he experiences something extraordinary. Scripture tells us that “Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit, looked up to heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God” (Acts 7:55). Even in the face of death, Stephen’s unwavering focus on Jesus fills him with a peace that goes beyond understanding.

What happens next is equally incredible. While the crowd stones him, Stephen echoes Jesus’ own words on the cross: “Lord, do not hold this sin against them” (Acts 7:60). It is a remarkable picture of forgiveness and love toward those who were killing him. This ability to forgive so profoundly did not come from a position of self-sufficiency or inner strength but rather from a deep, desperate dependence on Christ. In Stephen’s darkest hour, his need for Jesus led him to an encounter with Jesus, even allowing him to reflect Christ’s love in his final breaths.

Stephen’s story teaches us that when we truly recognize our need for Jesus, we open ourselves to see Him at work in ways that transform us. If we want to experience the peace that passes understanding, the courage that stands firm, and the love that forgives even the deepest wrongs, we must admit our need. Our need creates space for God to fill us with His strength, His peace, and His love. Just as Jesus appeared to Stephen in that moment, He draws near to those who call on Him with a humble heart.

If we want to see Jesus, we must need Him—our deep dependence on Him is not a sign of weakness but the pathway to true strength and peace. Just like Stephen, our need for Jesus can enable us to love and forgive even when it seems impossible, reflecting the One who forgave us.

Are You Worthy of Suffering?

In Acts 5, we see an astonishing response from the apostles. After being arrested and ordered not to speak in the name of Jesus, they remain steadfast, and the authorities have them flogged to intimidate and discourage them. But instead of leaving in pain and discouragement, they leave rejoicing, “because they had been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name” (Acts 5:41). The apostles’ attitude is counterintuitive and deeply inspiring, revealing how they embraced suffering as a sign of faithfulness to Jesus. This response invites us to consider the transformative power of viewing hardship through a Kingdom lens.

When we see suffering for the sake of Christ as a privilege, it shifts our focus. First, it strengthens our resolve. The apostles understood that suffering was part of following Jesus — who Himself was mocked, beaten, and crucified. By identifying with Him in their hardship, they were bolstered rather than broken. This outlook not only encouraged them but reinforced the very core of their message: that Jesus is worth everything, even suffering.

Second, their response affected their persecutors. Joy in suffering defies human logic, especially for those expecting fear and submission. The apostles’ reaction must have confounded the authorities, showing that their faith could not be crushed by physical threats. This boldness makes the Gospel even more compelling, illustrating that God’s love gives a strength that can’t be explained away or easily suppressed.

Finally, this courage impacts those who are watching. Others in the early church would have witnessed the apostles’ joy amid suffering, likely feeling both inspired and emboldened to live with similar dedication. Today, our response to trials can serve as a powerful testimony, inviting others to see that Christ’s worth far surpasses any hardship.

Embracing suffering for Christ reveals the strength of our commitment and provides a powerful witness to others. When we respond with joy, we join the apostles in demonstrating that true life is found in following Jesus, whatever the cost.

Not All the Answers

At the beginning of Acts, Jesus’ disciples ask Him, “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?” (Acts 1:6). In their minds, this was the right question. After all, they had walked with Jesus through His ministry, His death, and His resurrection, and the natural next step seemed to be the re-establishment of God’s kingdom. But Jesus, instead of providing a direct answer, redirects their focus. “It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority,” He replies, “but you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses…” (Acts 1:7-8).

The disciples’ question highlights our common desire for clarity and control. Like them, we often want answers about God’s timeline or specifics of His plan. But Jesus reminds us that some things simply aren’t for us to know. Instead of giving a detailed roadmap, He offers us something better: the Holy Spirit’s guidance and empowerment.

In our own lives, the Holy Spirit continues to guide us through uncertainties. God knows that we, like the disciples, will not always have all the answers, and He encourages us to lean into His presence rather than our understanding. The Spirit’s role is not just to give us information but to transform us into people of faith and trust. As we surrender our need for control, we can grow in faith that God, who holds all knowledge and power, is directing our path.

God asks us to trust Him even when we don’t have all the answers. As Proverbs 3:5-6 says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.” Our focus is not meant to be on securing every answer, but on becoming more responsive to the Spirit, following Him as He leads us forward with wisdom, patience, and courage.

Got Questions? Good!

Thomas, one of Jesus’ twelve disciples, is often remembered as “Doubting Thomas” — but this label fails to capture the depth of his character or the significance of his encounter with the risen Christ. Far from rebuking him, Jesus invites Thomas to bring his questions forward and see for himself. This moment shows us that faith isn’t about ignoring our questions; it’s about seeking God honestly, even in doubt.

In John 20:24-29, Thomas’ response to Jesus’ resurrection is straightforward: he needs evidence. Instead of shaming him, Jesus appears to Thomas, knowing the disciple’s need to understand personally. This demonstrates that asking questions is not a flaw in our faith; it’s part of a genuine, engaged relationship with God. God, who created our minds, doesn’t ask for “blind faith” — instead, He invites us to know Him fully. Jesus even says that those who have not seen but still believe are blessed, highlighting that God values a thoughtful faith over unquestioning compliance.

Faith, after all, is not about the absence of questions but about where those questions lead us. When we encounter doubts or curiosity, these moments are opportunities to grow. Proverbs 4:7 encourages, “Though it cost all you have, get understanding.” Questions open doors to a deeper knowledge of God and often lead us to a more mature, lasting faith. They are part of loving God with our minds (Mark 12:30), engaging all of our intellect in pursuit of the truth.

If you have questions, talk with pastors, mentors, or trusted friends, and bring these to God in prayer. Remember, every question is an opportunity for growth.

Heralds of Redemption: How Women Reversed Eve’s Fall

The resurrection story holds an often-overlooked moment of redemption that goes all the way back to Eden. On that early morning, while the men hid in fear, a small group of women went to the tomb of Jesus, carrying spices and love for their crucified Teacher. What they found was earth-shattering: the stone was rolled away, the tomb was empty, and the angel of the Lord declared, “He is not here; He has risen!” They were entrusted with a message to share with the world—the first proclamation of the resurrection.

This moment is particularly significant in light of the creation account. In Genesis, Eve was deceived and led humanity into sin. Now, at the resurrection, it is women who are first to bring news of life, reversing the direction of the Fall and symbolizing a new beginning. While Eve’s decision led to separation from God, the women at the tomb brought news of a restored relationship with Him. Here we see God, in His redemptive power, choose women to be His first witnesses—an act that shattered cultural norms and spoke volumes about His value for each person, regardless of status or gender.

This account also calls us to be bold. Just as the women did not let fear or societal expectations silence them, we are encouraged to carry the message of Jesus’ victory over death, trusting that God equips the unlikely and gives voice to the humble. And just as Eve’s mistake didn’t define humanity’s end, our past does not define us. Christ’s resurrection offers a new beginning, calling us to proclaim the life we have received.

Today, may we walk in the steps of those first women, bold in our message, transformed by His victory, and unafraid to carry the truth of the resurrection wherever we go.

The Wounded Healer

During college, I first encountered The Wounded Healer by Henri Nouwen. My program director — Dr. Carl Strutt — put it on the reading list for one of his classes. At the time, I didn’t fully connect with it. Despite my relative poverty growing up in a broken family, I didn’t really understand “wounded-ness” per se. Other than the death of my grandfather when I was in Grade 3, I had never experienced anything that “grieved” me. But as the years went by, I found myself returning to the ideas in Nouwen’s book, especially as I experienced struggles of my own and walked alongside others in theirs. I began to understand the power in acknowledging our own pain and the way it allows us to empathize deeply with those who are hurting. Now, I have come to appreciate The Wounded Healer as a valuable perspective on how God’s love works through us, especially in our weaknesses.

In his account of Jesus’ suffering, John shows us how Christ embodied this idea of the wounded healer in its fullest form. Jesus wasn’t only a wounded healer; He became the very suffering that would ultimately redeem. On the cross, bearing the agony of the physical, emotional, and spiritual wounds inflicted on Him, He extended Himself entirely to meet our deepest needs for healing. The wounds of Christ were no minor affliction; they were wounds that reached to the depths of His being, and by them, we are healed (Isaiah 53:5). Jesus took on the ultimate brokenness to bring us wholeness.

In Nouwen’s language, we might say that Jesus embraced the full weight of human suffering, making His brokenness a bridge of healing for us. Just as Jesus bore the punishment we deserved, we can follow Him by recognizing that our own wounds, while painful, can also be avenues of compassion. Instead of masking our brokenness, we can choose to allow God to work through it to reach others.

So if today finds you carrying wounds — whether from past hurts, recent disappointments, or anything in between — consider how God might be inviting you to use those places of pain to bring comfort to others. Christ took on wounds for us, and He invites us to participate in His ministry by reaching out to others, not in spite of our wounds, but through them.

Real Justice

In the trials of Jesus, we witness a profound failure of justice. Jesus, innocent in every sense, is passed between leaders who recognize His innocence yet bow to the pressure of an angry mob. Human justice, whether in the hands of Pilate, Herod, or the Sanhedrin, fails Him utterly. Jesus stands silent before men who twist their authority, and in doing so, He knows intimately the depths of injustice that can plague our world. For anyone who has suffered from unfair treatment, false accusation, or a corrupt system, this moment in Jesus’ life reveals a Savior who has felt the same.

Despite the failings of human justice, Jesus’ response shows us a vital lesson: He didn’t place His hope in these earthly systems, and neither should we. Instead, He entrusted Himself to God, the ultimate Judge, who sees all things rightly and promises perfect justice. Jesus knew the Father’s justice was a surer foundation than any human court, and so He endured the trials set before Him, holding fast to the knowledge that God’s justice would ultimately prevail.

When we face injustice, it’s tempting to pin our hopes on human institutions, to believe that with enough advocacy, attention, or influence, things will be set right. But while we work to seek justice where we can, we’re reminded that ultimate justice belongs to God alone. Human systems, as important as they may be, will always have flaws and limitations. They are imperfect reflections of the justice that only God Himself can deliver.

In our lives, the challenge is to trust that God sees and knows our situation fully, even when justice seems delayed. Psalm 89:14 tells us, “Righteousness and justice are the foundation of Your throne; steadfast love and faithfulness go before You.” This assurance means that no wrong will go unaddressed in God’s time and plan. He is the Judge who will not let evil win, who hears every cry, and who will make all things right. Until then, we are called to follow Jesus’ example, trusting God in our own experiences of injustice, keeping our eyes on the One whose justice is flawless.

Zeal Gone Awry

The trial of Jesus before the Sanhedrin is one of the most tragic displays of religious zeal gone wrong. Convinced of their duty to protect God’s honor, the religious leaders allowed their passions and mob mentality to override justice, mercy, and reason. What should have been a trial became a forum for slander, manipulation, and violence, with many of the leaders and bystanders becoming part of a vicious cycle. Jesus, the very person they were supposed to recognize as the Messiah, was instead labeled a blasphemer and beaten in their outrage.

We all have passions and causes we care deeply about. In fact, a righteous zeal can be powerful when we’re moved by a godly cause. But zeal without humility and discernment can lead us to the same dangers faced by the Sanhedrin. Their unwavering conviction left no room for compassion or introspection. How often do we see, even in ourselves, that good intentions and passionate defense of our beliefs can devolve into defensiveness, anger, or even cruelty when we feel challenged?

The actions of the Sanhedrin remind us to remain humble, recognizing that zeal for truth or righteousness must be tempered with God’s Spirit. Jesus taught us to turn the other cheek, to walk with humility, and to love even our enemies. When we lose sight of these teachings, our own zeal can go awry, blinding us to the heart of God’s message and turning us into people we would later be ashamed to recognize.

We’re called to balance conviction with compassion, courage with humility, and action with prayer. May we be passionate for God’s kingdom and its values, but may we also be vigilant, that we never sacrifice our character in the process. When our hearts are governed by the love of Christ, we can stand firm in the truth without losing our way to the passions that seek to rule us.