Devotions

In the animated movie Toy Story, a child’s toys come to life whenever he leaves the room or falls asleep. One character, a space ranger named Buzz Lightyear, shouts his signature catchphrase while demonstrating his ability to fly about the bedroom. “To infinity and beyond!”

It’s a phrase that has confused many. Isn’t infinity as far as you can go? How can there be anything “beyond” infinity? Drawing on wisdom from ancient Greek philosophers, mathematician Ian Stewart suggests that what is beyond infinity are yet bigger infinities. On and on and on.

Jesus seems to employ such exponential effort in the realm of forgiveness. When Peter asked Jesus, “How many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?” Jesus answered, “I tell you, you must forgive him more than seven times. You must forgive him even if he wrongs you seventy times seven” (Matthew 18:22). Jesus goes on to tell a parable comparing a merciful and unmerciful servant, making the point that when someone truly regrets their error, there is no limit to the number of times we are to forgive. We are to forgive others the way God forgives us (v. 33). Over and over, on and on.

That may seem impossible to us. That’s why we constantly need to ask God for His help.

Only in His strength can we do this. Forgiven people forgive people. To infinity and beyond!

The people of Le Chambon, France risked everything to help save the lives of as many as 5,000 individuals, many of them Jewish children, during the Nazi occupation. The refugees fleeing their homes were hidden in the community’s homes and farms. The townspeople were inspired by pastor André Trocmé, who called on his congregation to help by referencing the words of Deuteronomy 10:19, “You are to love those who are foreigners, for you yourselves were foreigners in Egypt.”

This command given to the Israelites comes in a passage that begins with the reminder that the whole earth belongs to God, who is “mighty and awesome” (v. 17). Yet God chose to love the Israelites (v. 15). He also cares for people in vulnerable or unfamiliar situations (v. 18), including foreigners who weren’t part of the nation of Israel. As the Israelites settled in their new home, they were to imitate God’s love and care for those needing help, especially because they knew the unique struggles of being a foreigner (v. 19).

If we’ve been at a job a long time or lived in the same home for several years, God may give us the opportunity to show kindness to someone who feels like a “foreigner,” perhaps by providing helpful advice to a new coworker or assistance to a recently relocated family. When we do, we demonstrate God’s love to those in unfamiliar, and often vulnerable, situations.

On a frigid November day, our church hoped to fill two hundred backpacks to distribute to the homeless. Preparing to help fill them, I sorted through the items donated, praying to find new gloves, hats, socks, blankets. Bowls of chili and sandwiches would also be shared with those who were to receive the gifts. Then I noticed an item that surprised me: washcloths. I’d been focusing on helping people stay warm and get fed. Someone had remembered to help our recipients feel clean.

The Bible speaks about another kind of “clean”—cleanliness of heart and spirit. Jesus pointed this out as He decried the hypocrisy of the teachers of the law and the Pharisees. They kept the smallest requirements of the law, but “neglected the more important matters of the law—justice, mercy and faithfulness” (Matthew 23:23). Christ told them, “You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean” (vv. 25-26).

Acting as if we are spiritually spotless is just a show if we don’t seek the cleansing found only in Christ. “What can wash away my sin?” asks an old gospel song. “Nothing but the blood of Jesus.” A new washcloth can be a gift to wash us on the outside. Jesus cleans us on the inside, washing away even the worst of our sins.

Lee didn’t believe in God, and he didn’t believe in the resurrection of Jesus. But Lee was a journalist with an analytical mind. When his wife believed in Jesus, he decided to study her new faith for himself. After two years of research, he gave in—to God, to the resurrection, to faith in Christ.

The change in him was noticeable. After a few months, his five-year-old daughter said to his wife, “Mommy, I want God to do for me what he’s done for Daddy.” And the daughter of Lee Strobel put her faith in Jesus too.

Many people refuse to believe in the resurrection. But reputable eyewitnesses saw the risen Jesus. One of those eyewitnesses, the disciple Peter, told a large crowd that King David was certainly dead and buried (Acts 2:29). Then Peter pointed to a prophecy David had made. “[David] spoke of the resurrection of the Messiah,” he said (v. 31). Peter concluded, “God has raised this Jesus to life, and we are all witnesses of it” (v. 32).

The best evidence for the resurrection is the changed lives of the eyewitnesses, including Peter. At the crucifixion, the disciples had gone into hiding. Peter actually denied Christ (John 18:15-17; 25-27). Once they saw Jesus alive, everything changed. Filled with courage, they began to share the truth of the one great hope of the world—the risen Christ.

Rose Turner, a fashion psychologist at the London College of Fashion, studies the impact clothing has on how people think, how they behave, and even how clothes affect their mood. As the closest thing to our bodies, clothing forms a type of “second skin” and girds us for whatever the day might hold. For example, donning professional attire can “help with motivation and concentration” at work, and wearing vintage pieces with sentimental value can bring comfort during stressful situations.

This psychological phenomenon offers an insight into Isaiah’s prophetic words about Jesus’ sacrificial act. He records the future deliverance of the Jews from their captivity in Babylon, assuring them they would one day “rebuild the ancient ruins and restore the places long devastated” in their absence (Isaiah 61:4). In that day, they would wear “a robe of his righteousness” (v. 10).

Isaiah’s prophecy was fulfilled first in the nation’s return to Jerusalem and then fully when “God made [Jesus] . . . sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21). Righteousness describes our right relationship with God when we trust in Christ’s sacrifice. God doesn’t see someone outfitted in shame or disgrace because of our sin; instead, He sees us clothed in Jesus’ enduring righteousness—a “second skin” that girds us with joy today and for eternity.

Several legends surround the naming of the beautiful five-petaled flower the Forget-Me-Not. Among those stories is one from a German legend. According to the story, as God named all the plants He’d created, one little flower worried that it would be overlooked. So the flower called out “Forget-me-not, O Lord.’ And that’s the name God gave to it.

Though this is only a story, the Forget-Me-Not has become a symbol of love and remembrance. Yet all of us have experienced what it feels like to be forgotten. To be remembered—especially to be remembered by our God—is our heart’s true desire. We find just such a story in the account of the crucifixion of Jesus. Luke tells us, “Two other men, both criminals, were also led out with [Jesus] to be executed” (23:32). As they were being crucified, one criminal next to Christ suddenly understood. He said, “Jesus, remember me when you come in your kingdom” (v. 42). Christ’s response was unforgettable: “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise” (v. 43).

What an amazing moment! In his darkest hour, that criminal learned what it meant to be remembered by the Son of God.

We too are remembered in our hour of need. The God who loved us enough to die for us will never forget us.

Fyodor Dostoevsky was facing a firing squad. He quietly counted the last moments of his life. Dostoevsky, a believer in Jesus, is considered one of the greatest writers in all of literature. His monumental novel, The Brothers Karamazov, explored themes about God, life, and death. It was said of Dostoevsky, “He spoke about Christ ecstatically.” The rifles raised. “Ready! . . . Aim . . .”

Jesus, alluding to His own execution, speaks to His disciples and to us of the eternal value of life and death when He said, “The hour has come” (John 12:23). The image is a seed (our life), which produces a great harvest through its own sacrifice (v. 24). Jesus tells us not to love this life too much, for it is those who are willing to sacrifice this present life who will find “eternal life” (v. 25).

These are hard words—we cherish our life on earth. But Jesus is saying that being His disciple requires sacrifice. We’re counseled to hold life loosely, to embrace the joy of the life to come, and to find our hope in His words, “My Father will honor the one who serves me” (v. 26).

Fyodor looked death in the face. But a letter from the Czar was delivered at the last second. A reprieve. Dostoevsky’s life was spared, yet this experience would infuse all of his later works. Indeed, the epigraph of The Brothers Karamazov is this verse, John 12:24: “Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”

Of all the foolish things that have led to nations going to war, could a pastry be the worst of all? In 1832, amid tensions between France and Mexico, a group of Mexican army officers visited a French pastry shop in Mexico City and sampled all the baker’s goods without paying. Though the details get complicated (and other provocations compounded the troubles), the result was the first Franco-Mexican War (1838-39)—known as the Pastry War—in which more than three-hundred soldiers died. It’s sad what a moment of anger can incite.

Most human conflicts—shattered marriages and ruined friendships—are likely rooted in some form of unmanaged anger. Selfishness and power plays, unresolved misunderstandings, slights and counter-aggression—it’s all foolishness. So often, our ill-advised perceptions or reactions lead to destructive anger. Yet Ecclesiastes offers wisdom: “Do not be quickly provoked in your spirit, for anger resides in the lap of fools” (7:9).

It’s foolish to have a short fuse and be easily provoked to anger, especially when God offers a better way—perhaps through “the rebuke of a wise person” (v. 5). Pursuing wisdom, we can allow “the peace of God to rule in [our] hearts” (Colossians 3:15). We can live in wisdom and forgiveness as He helps us.

In The Courier, a film inspired by true events, the main character Greville is confronted with a difficult decision. He learns that a close friend is going to be arrested and will likely face a grueling imprisonment. Greville can save himself from the same fate if he flees the country immediately and denies association with his friend. Moved with compassion, Greville loyally refuses to leave and is imprisoned suffering the same agony as his friend. Neither man betrays the other. In the end he’s released a broken, but true and faithful companion.

Naomi needed a friend like that. When her husband and sons died, Naomi faced destitution and a long journey. Naomi told her widowed daughter-in-law Ruth to remain in Moab and find a new life for herself (Ruth 1:8–9). Ruth responded, “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go” (v. 16). Ruth loyally accompanied Naomi to a foreign land and helped provide for their family. Ruth’s faithfulness transformed their broken family into an incredible legacy. Much later, her great-great-grandson David would become king of Israel and was called a man after God’s own heart.

Facing suffering with others is daunting. But if we surrender our own will and seek God’s strength, He enables us to love people in extraordinary ways. In His power, we can choose to say, “Where you go, I will go.”