Introduce People To God For Salvation

I. The vineyard belongs to God

John chapter 4

34   Jesus explained, “My food is to do the will of Him who sent Me and to finish His work. 35   Do you not say, ‘There are still four months until the harvest’? I tell you, lift up your eyes and look at the fields, for they are ripe for harvest.

36   Already the reaper draws his wages and gathers a crop for eternal life, so that the sower and the reaper may rejoice together. 37   For in this case the saying ‘One sows and another reaps’ is true. 38   I sent you to reap what you have not worked for; others have done the hard work, and now you have taken up their labor.”

There is no mistaking this principle. Jesus said, “I am the vine, you are the branches.” … At the very beginning of the passage, he says, “I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener.” My Father is the vine dresser. He is the owner of the vineyard.

Illustration

It seems all of us are born with selfish instincts. It doesn’t take long for a toddler to learn a couple of powerful, one-word sentences.

“NO!” “MINE!”

Have you been amazed at the feelings of ownership a toddler can have? If he gets his grubby little hands on an empty, plastic butter dish, it won’t matter what Mom intended for the dish. “MINE!!!” screams the selfish little man, and the battle is on. It wouldn’t matter if the object were a piece of trash, or a priceless work of art. Once his hands are on it, it’s “MINE!”

How ridiculous. Little children can’t comprehend the value of things, or that someone worked hard to buy a work of art. Children can’t understand responsibility, time, earnings, or value. But they immediately understand the concept of possessions.

We don’t grow out of it just because we have a third birthday. By the time a person is 30, or 50, or 70, he has usually had a chance to look up to the heavens, curl his grubby little fingers into a tiny fist, and say, “But God, it was MINE!”

“But God, that was my good health. It was mine. I want it back. I don’t want the disease. I’m tired of the way I feel. I’m scared of the surgery. I’m sick of the treatments. It’s not fair that it costs this much. God it was my health … it was MINE!”

“But God, I earned that money … why did the stock market have to do that, now? That was my retirement … It was MINE!”

“But God,” says the man by the fresh grave … “she was mine.”

“But God,” says the mother staring at the empty room of her 18-year-old son. “He was just a little boy, and I liked him that way … he was mine.”

“But God,” says the young adult, “this was my future. I planned it. I worked for it. I went to school for it. I’ve made the promotions. This was all mine. I don’t want to change in midstream.”

“But God,” says the church member, “I gave years of my time to that church. I gave thousands of dollars, and more sweat than I could count. Now it’s changing. It’s not what it was. God, this was my church, and I want it back.”

“No,” says God to the 2-year-old in all of us, “it wasn’t yours at all. She wasn’t. He wasn’t. The church wasn’t yours. You’re not even yours! It all belongs to me, for I am God.”

From the moment God issued the first of his Ten Commandments, he told us that he was a jealous God, that he would tolerate no other gods, that he would never relinquish his right to be God. In the vineyard, we find another opportunity to realize that God is in control, God is in charge, and we are not. We cannot find our purpose without realizing our place.

Obviously, in a garden, the branch doesn’t tell the vine what to do. On a farm, the plants don’t tell the farmer how to get the job done. Can you imagine a plant telling the gardener, “NO! I’ll do it my way!” No, the gardener knows best for the plants, and cultivates, works, cuts, removes, fertilizes, waters, covers, sprays … for very good reasons. And a good plant simply trusts the gardener.

There may be no harder principle to put into practice for many believers than this first one. We all tend to be control freaks. We feel better if we’re in control. If four adults are in the car, usually at least three people are thinking: “I should be driving.”

When it comes to this spiritual notion of bearing fruit, the bad news is that the Lord demands that you release control. There is no option. You and I have no more right to tell God how to do His business than a plant has a right to give us instructions. It just doesn’t work that way. So that’s the bad news. You have to give up control.

The good news? That means you don’t have to carry the weight of being in control! You don’t have to carry the weight of the branch! Your only job is to bear fruit.

Loving Much

Luke 7

Jesus Anointed by a Sinful Woman

36 When one of the Pharisees invited Jesus to have dinner with him, he went to the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table. 37 A woman in that town who lived a sinful life learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, so she came there with an alabaster jar of perfume.38 As she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.

39 When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner.”

40 Jesus answered him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.”

“Tell me, teacher,” he said.

41 “Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii,[c] and the other fifty. 42 Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?”

43 Simon replied, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.”

“You have judged correctly,” Jesus said.

44 Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. 45 You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. 46 You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. 47 Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.”

48 Then Jesus said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”

Article by:   Loving much  

Jon Bloom

 

Staff writer, desiringGod.org

The most loving thing we can do for others is love God more than we love them. For if we love God most, we will love others best.

I know this sounds like preposterous gobbledygook to an unbeliever. How can you love someone best by loving someone else most? But those who have encountered the living Christ understand what I mean. They know the depth of love and breadth of grace that flows out from them toward others when they themselves are filled with love for God and all he is for them and means to them in Jesus. And they know the comparatively shallow and narrow love they feel toward others when their affection for God is ebbing.

There’s a reason why Jesus said the second greatest commandment is like the first: if we love God with all our heart, we will love our neighbor as ourselves (Matthew 22:37–39). It functions like faith and works; if we truly have the first, the second naturally follows.

But if God is not the love of our life, there is no way that we will truly love our neighbor as ourselves. For we will love ourselves supremely.

You are Chosen and Loved

Jennifer Rothschild, proverbs31.org

  “I will show my love to the one I called ‘Not my loved one.’ I will say to those called ‘Not my people,’ ‘You are my people’; and they will say, ‘You are my God.'” Hosea 2:23b (NIV)

Growing up, I was an uncoordinated kid.

One of the ones who was often chosen last for the kickball team in gym class. And even then, only because there was no one else left to pick.

If you, too, have ever been picked last, the idea of being chosen by God might sound rather foreign. Some of us might even need to rethink what it means to be chosen. 

To be chosen by God means we are His first choice and His best choice. Unlike the kids in the gym, He didn’t shrug His shoulders and say, “Well, I guess I’ll take her if no one else will.”

Not at all.

When Jesus’ hands were nailed to a cross, His fingers pointed to you and me – He intentionally chose to die for us. He chose you and He chose me and He chooses us every day. 

Isn’t that amazing?

The book of Hosea in the Bible beautifully illustrates this concept for us. Hosea was a prophet whom God told to marry a prostitute and thereby show the nation of Israel how she’d been unfaithful by worshipping false gods. Hosea chose Gomer, a woman who would birth his children, yet leave him time and again for another lover. (For more, see Hosea chapters 1 and 2.) 

All through the book of Hosea, we see both judgment and hope, destruction and restoration. Hosea proclaims both sides of God, which reflect His one heart – God’s faithful love for His people, warning them for their good. 

Just like God chose the nation of Israel and Hosea the prophet chose Gomer to reveal His love, God chose you. In fact, you are a chosen woman of God.

It’s so easy to look in the foggy mirror that is my life and see all the reasons why I shouldn’t be chosen and loved: I’m selfish, I wander from God, I have mixed motives, I’m not good enough – oh, the reasons are unending! 

However, the more accurate mirror of God’s Word reflects the truth that I am chosen and loved. And, that my friend, includes you. 

In today’s key verse, God’s Word to Israel reminds us that even though we have made mistakes and might feel rejected and unworthy of love, God still pursues us. The message of Hosea is still God’s message to us.

In other words, Israel’s identity was a chosen and loved people of God. Our identity is chosen and loved women of God. 

Thankfully, I’ve learned God doesn’t love me because I am cleaned up, religious or even because I am a Christian. He loves me because He is love. We didn’t earn His love and we can’t lose His love either. 

The Bible says, “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8b, ESV). He didn’t choose to love you because you were lovely, He loved you and then you became lovely. Your value comes from His inherit value. 

Look into the mirror of your soul and see Gomer reflected back at you. She was the beloved bride and so are you. Embrace your true identity as a chosen and loved woman of God!

Are You Gentle Like Jesus?

 By: Dan Doriani , the gospelcoalition

 

Not long ago, I was asked to help with a series of devotionals on the fruit of the Spirit for our seminary’s day of prayer. I chose gentleness since I want to be more gentle and hope to learn what that means. I had limited time to prepare, and so reminded myself to avoid the mistakes born of haste (or ignorance). I would not search for quotations or stories about gentleness, since the first assumes my culture has a valid concept of gentleness and the second assumes I do. Nor would I be content to simply list a string of verses that mention gentleness. Again it would be too easy to pour personal or Western definitions into the term.

Reading cultural or preferred definitions into a term is a common error. For example, my two-year-old granddaughter came into my home office as I worked on the devotional and said, “Papa read me a story?” I replied, “I can’t right now honey, I’m working.” She paused to think and asked, “Danny and the Dinosaur?” This, she sensed, was the book most likely to elicit “Okay, bring it to me.” Thirty seconds later, we were reading. It’s important to reward ingenuity.

I shared this with some friends and someone replied, “That’s sweet. You’re getting gentler, Dan.” Maybe. Or maybe I’m getting lazier. Or maybe I was stuck and needed a diversion. It’s easy to confuse style and personality with character. Yet gentleness is not an accident of disposition or relational style. Whether loud or quiet, male or female, powerful or powerless, every disciple should be gentle.

Beyond the Lexicon

A study of gentleness in the New Testament may begin in a Greek lexicon, looking up praus (gentle) and prautes (gentleness). Somewhat surprisingly, the classic lexicon defines praus as “not being overly impressed by a sense of one’s self-importance.” It’s a good definition, but to see what it means, we need to examine Scripture’s use of the term.

Since the fruit of the Spirit is found in Galatians 5:22–23, we begin in Galatians. Though Paul simply lists the term in 5:23, he uses it again just four verses later: “Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness” (Gal. 6:1).

Rough and Gentle

Fortunately, Paul shows what he means, since he addresses transgressors several times in Galatians. In chapter 1, he says that anyone preaching a gospel contrary to his is “accursed” (1:8–9). This doesn’t sound gentle to us. Nor does he sound gentle when he says he “opposed [Peter] to his face because he stood condemned” for withdrawing from Gentiles who didn’t follow Jewish food laws (Gal. 2:11).

In Galatians 3, Paul calls his readers bewitched fools (3:1–3). There are tender moments in Galatians 4:12–20 and 5:7–10, and in 1 Corinthians 4:21 and 2 Timothy 2:25, but he sounds rough indeed in Galatians 5:11. Someone will object, not without merit, that Paul advocates gentleness for those who get “caught” in sin (6:1), whereas his foes were hardened. But it seems Peter got caught in sin (2:12), and he got rough treatment too.

Gentle Jesus, Meek and Mild?

Jesus’s version of gentleness looks a lot like Paul’s. First of all, Jesus commends gentleness in the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3–12). In the first three, he blesses the poor in spirit, those who mourn, and the “meek” (praus again). These go together. The poor in spirit know their need of God’s grace. When they take their poverty to God, he gives them his kingdom. Further, the poor in spirit mourn their spiritual poverty—their sinfulness. When they mourn their sin, they become meek or gentle. The poor in spirit, the mourners, are gentle in this sense: their awareness of their sin keeps them from asserting themselves and their rights.

Jesus is called “gentle” in Matthew 21:5, and while we see that he arrives on a donkey rather than a warhorse, he immediately starts upending temple furniture (21:12). And though he is called gentle, he doesn’t sound gentle. He calls the scribes and Pharisees hypocrites, snakes, sons of hell, fools, whitewashed tombs, and murderers, among other things (Matt. 23:12–35).

Taking Paul and Jesus together, then, it’s clear that gentleness is entirely compatible with blunt language and direct action.

Now notice how Jesus describes himself:

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you . . . for I am gentle. . . . For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. (Matt. 11:28–30)

The reference to his “yoke” probably means his teaching is neither burdensome nor stringent. The very next passage shows Pharisees making legalistic demands—the sort Jesus doesn’t make (Matt. 12:1–14; cf. 23:4).

Yet Jesus certainly asks much of his disciples. He sends them into persecution, arrests, floggings, then tells them to take their crosses and follow him (Matt. 10:16–38). So Jesus is gentle not because he makes no demands, but because he makes proper demands. He is meek because he gives us rest from bad laws and forgives us when we break good ones. But again, gentleness isn’t quite what we assume; it comes with high demands.