Some of the most famous pianists in the world, including Van Cliburn and Vladimir Horowitz, relied on Franz Mohr, chief concert technician at Steinway & Sons in New York, to ensure that their concert pianos were ready for performances. A master piano tuner, Mohr was sought-after for his intricate knowledge of pianos and great skill developed over decades. Mohr believed his skills were an avenue to serve God, and he regularly shared his faith with pianists and performance staff.

When the nation of Israel was preparing to build the tent of meeting and other items necessary for worship (Exodus 31:7–11), they needed individuals with expert skills. God appointed two skilled artisans, Bezalel and Oholiab, to do the work and filled them with the “Spirit of God, with wisdom, with understanding, with knowledge and with all kinds of skills—to make artistic designs” (vv. 3–4). In addition to their specialized skills, God empowered them with His Spirit to guide their work. Their willingness to use their unique talents in service to God allowed the Israelites to appropriately worship Him.

Whether or not we consider ourselves artistic, each of us has unique, God-given gifts that we can use to serve others (Romans 12:6).  Empowered by the Spirit, we can serve and worship God through our work using the wisdom, understanding, and skills He’s given us.

During the annual National Football League Draft, professional football teams choose new players. Coaches spend thousands of hours evaluating prospective players’ skills and physical fitness. In 2022, Brock Purdy was the last—262nd—pick and labeled “Mr. Irrelevant,” the nickname given to the last football player selected. No one expected he would play in a game during the upcoming season. Just a few months later, however, Purdy led his team to two playoff wins. The reality is that team executives don’t always do an effective job identifying potential. And neither do we.

In a familiar Old Testament story, God sent the prophet Samuel to select the next king of Israel from among the sons of Jesse. When Samuel looked at the men, he was swayed by their physical appearance. But God said to him, “Do not consider his appearance or his height” (1 Samuel 16:7). Instead, God led him to choose not the oldest or tallest but the youngest and seemingly least relevant choice—David, who would be Israel’s greatest earthly king.

Why do we often do such a poor job evaluating people? Our passage reminds us that “people look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart” (v. 7). When we’re asked to select someone to be on a work team or serve on a volunteer committee, we can ask God to give us wisdom to make choices based on qualities valuable to Him.

The acclaimed painting Let My People Go by Aaron Douglas uses vibrant colors of lavender, green, and gold, along with traditional African imagery, to tell the biblical story of Moses and connect it with Black Americans’ struggle for freedom and justice.

The painting portrays God’s appearance to Moses in a burning bush when he revealed that He’d seen the plight of the Israelites in Egypt. The artist uses a beam of light to symbolize God and His message, “So now, go. I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt” (Exodus 3:10).

In Let My People Go, Moses kneels in obedient submission to God’s instructions, but the eye is drawn to the dark waves and horses trained for war surrounding him—reminding viewers of the struggles the Israelites would face as they left Egypt. But the beam of light shines brightly as a reminder that God would be with the Israelites in their struggle.

The emotions evoked by the painting resonate because the struggle against injustice continues; many use their power to oppress men, women, and children around the world. As those suffering cry out for God to be “a refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble” (Psalm 9:9), we can plead with God to respond to their cries for help. And, like Moses, we can be willing to act on behalf of the oppressed.

How might you pray for oppressed people? How might you learn more about caring for those suffering injustice?

It felt like we’d been waiting forever for news that our pregnant neighbor had welcomed her first baby. When a sign declaring “It’s a Girl!” finally appeared on their front lawn, we celebrated the birth of their daughter and texted friends who might not have seen the outdoor display.

There’s great excitement awaiting the arrival of a baby. Before Jesus’ birth, the Jewish people hadn’t just been waiting a few months, they’d longed for the birth of the messiah, Israel’s expected rescuer, for generations. I imagine that over the years faithful Jews wondered if during their lifetime they would see the fulfillment of this promise. 

One night the long-anticipated news was displayed in the heavens when an angel appeared to shepherds in Bethlehem announcing that the messiah had finally been born. He told them, “This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger” (Luke 2:12). After the shepherds saw Jesus, they praised God and “spread the word” (v. 17) about the baby.

 God wanted the shepherds to know that the long-awaited baby had arrived so they could tell others about Jesus’ birth. We still celebrate Jesus’ birth because His life provides rescue from the brokenness of the world to anyone who believes. We no longer have to wait to know peace and experience joy, which is good news worth announcing!

At a Christmas dinner held at our church to celebrate the cultures of the international guests, I joyfully clapped along to the sound of the darbuka (a type of drum) and the oud (a guitar-like instrument), as a band played the traditional Middle Eastern carol, “Laylat Al-Milad.” The band’s singer explained the title means “Nativity Night.” The lyrics remind hearers that the spirit of Christmas is found in serving others, in ways like offering a thirsty person water or comforting someone weeping.

This carol likely draws from a parable where Jesus commends His followers for deeds they’d done for Him: providing food when He was hungry, drink when He was thirsty, and companionship and care when He was sick and alone (Matthew 25:34—36). Instead of simply accepting Jesus’ commendation, the people in the parable are surprised—thinking they hadn’t actually done these things for Christ. He responded, “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (v. 40).

During the holiday season, the encouragement to get in the Christmas spirit is often a nudge toward expressing a festive attitude. “Laylat Al-Milad” reminds us that we can put into practice the true Christmas spirit by caring for others. And amazingly, when we do, we not only serve others but Jesus too.

Around the national Thanksgiving holiday, the U.S. president welcomes two turkeys to the White House before granting them a presidential pardon. Instead of being served as the main dish of the traditional Thanksgiving meal, the turkeys safely live out the rest of their lives on a farm. Although the turkeys can’t comprehend the freedom they’ve been granted, the unusual annual tradition highlights the life-giving power of a pardon.

The prophet Micah understood the significance of a pardon when he wrote a strong warning to the Israelites still in Jerusalem. Similar in form to a legal complaint, Micah recorded God bearing witness against the nation (Micah 1:2) for desiring evil and indulging in greed, dishonesty, and violence (6:10-14).

Despite these rebellious acts, Micah ends with hope rooted in the promise that God does not stay angry forever but instead “pardons sin and forgives” (7:18). As the Creator and Judge over all, God can authoritatively declare that He will not hold our actions against us because of His promise to Abraham (v. 20) that is ultimately fulfilled in Jesus’ death and resurrection.

Being pardoned from all the ways we fail to live up to God’s standards for holy living is an undeserved gift that brings immense blessings. As we grasp more and more of the benefits of God’s complete forgiveness, may we respond in praise and gratitude.

Nearly 107,000 people in the stadium stood in anticipation as Texas A&M college football kicker Seth Small took the field with only two seconds left in the game. With A&M tied 38-38 against the best team in the country—a perennial football powerhouse—a successful field goal would seal an epic upset victory. Looking calm, Small lined up to take the kick. The stadium erupted in pandemonium after the ball sailed through the uprights for the winning score.

When questioned by reporters how he prepared for such an intense moment, Small said he kept repeating to himself the first verse of Psalm 23, “The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.” When Small needed strength and reassurance, he drew on the deeply personal metaphor of God as shepherd.

Psalm 23 is a beloved psalm because it assures us that we can be at peace, or comforted, because we have a loving and trustworthy Shepherd who actively cares for us. David testified both to the reality of fear in intense or difficult situations as well as the comfort God provides (v. 4). The word translated “comfort” conveys assurance, or the confidence and courage to keep going because of God’s guiding presence.

When walking into challenging circumstances—not knowing what the outcome will be—we can take courage as we repeat the gentle reminder that the good Shepherd walks with us.

Rising among the red mountains of Sedona, Arizona, is the beautiful Chapel of the Holy Cross. Entering the small chapel, I was immediately drawn to an unusual sculpture of Jesus on the cross. Instead of a traditional cross, Jesus is shown crucified on the branches of a tree with two trunks. A severed, dead trunk represents the tribes of Israel in the Old Testament that rejected God. The other trunk grows and branches out to symbolize the flourishing tribe of Judah and the family line of King David.  

The symbolically significant art points to an important prophecy in the Old Testament about Jesus. Although the tribe of Judah was living in captivity, the prophet Jeremiah gave a hopeful message from God: “I will fulfill the good promise I made” (Jeremiah 33:14) to provide a rescuer who would “do what is just and right in the land” (v. 15). One way the people would know the identity of the rescuer was He would “sprout from David’s line” (v. 15), meaning the rescuer would be a physical descendant of King David.

The sculpture skillfully captured an important truth that in the details of Jesus’ family lineage, God was faithful to do all that He promised. Even more, it’s a reminder that His faithfulness in the past gives us reassurance that He’ll be faithful to fulfill His promises to us in the future.

Even as country music legend Johnny Cash was approaching death, he was determined to keep making music. His final album, American VI: Ain’t No Grave, was recorded in the final months of his life. The title song, Cash’s version of a hymn by Claude Ely, gives insight into his final thoughts as we hear him sing, “Ain’t no grave gonna hold my body down.”

To listen to Cash sing of his hope of the resurrection in his famously deep voice, weakened by his declining health, is to hear a powerful testimony of faith. His hope wasn’t simply in the fact that Jesus was resurrected on Easter Sunday morning, Cash believed that one day his own physical body would also be resurrected and he’d rise “out of the ground.”

It’s an important truth to affirm because even in the days of the apostle Paul people denied a future physical resurrection. Paul strongly critiqued their argument when he wrote, “If there is no resurrection of the dead, then not even Christ has been raised. And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith” (1 Corinthians 15:13–14).

Just as the grave couldn’t hold Jesus’ body, one day all those who have faith that He was resurrected “will be made alive” (v. 22). And in our resurrected bodies, we’ll enjoy all eternity with Him on a new earth. That’s reason to sing!

Joy was apparent in their voices as the high school choir sang the Argentinian song “El Cielo Canta Alegria.” I was enjoying the performance but couldn’t understand the lyrics because I don’t know Spanish. But it wasn’t long until I recognized a familiar word as the choir began to jubilantly declare “Aleluya!” Repeatedly, I heard “Aleluya,” a declaration of praise to God that sounds similar in most languages around the world. Eager to know the background of the song, I went online after the concert and discovered the title translates “Heaven is singing for joy.”

In a celebratory passage in Revelation 19, we are given a glimpse of the reality expressed in that choral song—all of heaven rejoicing. In the apostle John’s vision of the future in the last book of the New Testament, he saw an enormous gathering of people and angelic creatures in heaven declaring gratitude to God. John wrote that the chorus of voices celebrated God’s power that overcame evil and injustice, His reign over the whole earth, and eternal life with Him forever. Over and over again, all the inhabitants of heaven declare “Hallelujah!” (vv. 1, 3, 4, 6), or “Praise God!”

One day people “from every tribe and language and people and nation” (5:9) will declare God’s glory. And with joy all our voices in every different language will shout together, “Hallelujah!”