Luke 18 presents a series of teachings that emphasize faith, humility, and total dependence on God for salvation and life in His kingdom. It begins with a parable about persistent prayer (vv. 1–8), showing that faith is not passive but steadfastly cries out to the Lord, trusting His justice and mercy. Unlike the unjust judge, God is not reluctant to respond to His people—He delights in answering those who trust Him.

E. Stanley Jones unfolds the progression of truth-telling in the Christian life, moving from simply stating facts to speaking the truth in love, and ultimately, to speaking the truth in Christ. This final stage is where truth is infused with His divine love, reflecting His own heart.

Many misunderstand Paul’s exhortation to “work out your salvation with fear and trembling,” interpreting it as a call to self-effort. But Paul isn’t suggesting that believers strive to maintain or earn their salvation. Instead, he is urging them to actively engage in the process of living out the reality of Christ in them—allowing God to express His life through them, even as they navigate life’s challenges.

The psalmist describes a wandering people, searching for a city but finding none—a picture of those who look to human approval for security rather than resting in God alone. The writer of today’s devotional reminds us that those who truly fight the Lord’s battles must be willing to die to the opinions and praise of others, even from fellow believers. The enemy is subtle, often making such approval seem harmless or even necessary. But when we rely on the approval of others, it subtly weakens our ability to bring glory to God alone.

The Holy Spirit and grace are inseparably linked in the life of a believer. Zechariah 12:10 speaks of "the Spirit of grace and supplication" being poured out upon Israel in the last days, leading them to recognize their Messiah. This same Spirit has been given to us now, shaping how we live, serve, and relate to God under the new covenant.

Oswald Chambers confronts the tendency to approach God with a self-seeking spirit, subtly making our abandonment to Him conditional on what we gain in return. Too often, we surrender to God because we want to be freed from sin, made holy, or given a spiritual platform to showcase transformation—yet true abandonment does not consider any of these things. The essence of Christianity is not about what we get but about the Person of Christ Himself.

Many believers seek victory over sin by pruning away external habits or suppressing self-effort in certain areas, only to find that self resurfaces elsewhere. This approach only strengthens the root of the old life rather than removing it. The truth is, we were crucified with Christ, and the only way to experience true freedom from sin’s dominion is to reckon upon His death as our own.

The opening chapter of Ezra marks a pivotal moment in biblical history—the fulfillment of God’s promise to restore His people after seventy years of exile. The Persian king, Cyrus II, issues a decree allowing the Jewish exiles to return to Jerusalem to rebuild the temple. Though Cyrus appears to act of his own volition, Scripture reveals that it was the Lordwho stirred his spirit, orchestrating events to accomplish His divine purpose. This decree aligns precisely with the prophecy given through Isaiah two centuries earlier (Isaiah 44:28; 45:1) and the words of Jeremiah, who declared that the exile would last seventy years (Jeremiah 25:11; 29:10).

The book of Ezra unfolds against the backdrop of exile, revealing that history is ultimately God’s story. The rise and fall of empires, the shifting of kings and nations, all move at His command. Though the people of Israel had been exiled for generations, God’s covenant faithfulness remained unshaken. He stirred the heart of a pagan king, Cyrus of Persia, to fulfill what He had prophesied centuries earlier through Isaiah. The return from exile marked not only a physical restoration but also a spiritual renewal—a return to worship, to obedience, and to God’s Word.

The Lord speaks to Ezekiel again, charging him with confronting Jerusalem’s sins. The indictment is severe—bloodshed and idolatry have defiled the city, leading the people into widespread rebellion. The leaders have violated the very commandments meant to set them apart as God’s people. From dishonoring parents to perverting justice, from oppressing the vulnerable to practicing extortion, they have abandoned the ways of righteousness for selfish gain.

Job wrestles with a reality that is all too familiar—wickedness flourishes while the innocent suffer. He acknowledges his friends' assertion that God’s judgment must come, for injustice is rampant. He paints a vivid picture of cruelty: the needy are exploited, the poor are cast aside, and the wicked thrive in darkness, reversing the moral order God intended. Murderers and adulterers operate under cover of night, embracing darkness as their ally, while those who suffer cry out for justice.

E. Stanley Jones reveals the deep security believers have in Christ, emphasizing that our invincibility lies in abiding in Him. He draws on the ancient legend of Antaeus, who remained undefeated as long as he stayed in contact with the earth. In the same way, we are strong when we abide in Christ, drawing from His inexhaustible resources. Our security is not the absence of trials, but the transformation of trials through Christ’s love. The enemy may come against us, but his attacks only serve God’s greater purpose. Jesus declared that the ruler of this world had no power over Him, and even the cross—the enemy’s greatest weapon—became the instrument of redemption. Likewise, when we remain in Christ, adversity serves only to reveal His glory in us.

The exaltation of Christ is absolute—His name is above every name, and every knee will bow before Him in recognition of His Lordship. But this isn't just a future reality; it is a present invitation. Paul reminds us in Philippians that we already have the mind of Christ. It is not something we must strive for, achieve, or imitate—it is already ours in Him.

God has always called a people to Himself, and within that larger group, He selects a remnant—a specially prepared company set apart for His purpose. The word ecclesia means "the called-out ones," yet even within the church, the Lord is refining and drawing an even more dedicated group, His bride, those who are wholly His in heart and will. This truth is reflected in the story of Gideon. Initially, thirty thousand men responded to his call, yet God reduced their number to a mere three hundred—those who remained were the ones truly fit for His purpose.

It is the will of God that we walk in daily dependence upon the Holy Spirit, yet Scripture warns of three ways we can hinder His work in our lives: resisting, grieving, and quenching.

Stephen, standing before the religious leaders of Israel, rebuked them for resisting the Spirit. Their hardened hearts, self-righteousness, and unwillingness to yield to God's voice made them stiff-necked and unreceptive. They refused to let God strip away their self-sufficiency and pride, preferring their own way over His.

Oswald Chambers speaks of the necessity of keeping God's vision before us at all times, as Paul did when he responded immediately and wholeheartedly to Christ's commission (Acts 26:19). The danger is that we might grow careless or impatient, letting work or distractions take precedence over the vision itself. When God gives a vision, He also prepares the conditions for its fulfillment. Our role is not to rush ahead or force its realization but to live in its light, trusting that He will bring it to pass in His time. This waiting is a test of our loyalty, for only those who remain yielded and ready can be sown where He intends.

Many begin their Christian walk content with the knowledge that their sins are forgiven, relieved that they have escaped condemnation. At this stage, faith is passive—a quiet trust in Christ’s finished work but with little engagement in the trials and battles that come with following Him. However, as we grow in grace, God calls us deeper, beyond the safety of the spectator’s bench into the arena of faith.

In 2 Corinthians 8, Paul shifts the focus to the grace of giving, recounting the remarkable generosity of the Macedonian believers. Their giving was not from abundance but from deep poverty, yet it was marked by joy and eagerness. Paul attributes this to the grace of God at work in them.

In Luke 17, Jesus continues His teaching on faith, forgiveness, and the nature of the kingdom of God. He warns of the seriousness of leading others into sin, emphasizing that it would be better to suffer a violent death than to cause another believer to stumble (vv. 1–2). He then commands His disciples to rebuke sin and extend ongoing forgiveness to a repentant brother, reinforcing that even mustard-seed-sized faith is enough to accomplish seemingly impossible acts—such as continual forgiveness (vv. 3–6).

E. Stanley Jones presents a paradox: true Christian life is a quietism that leads to dynamism. The world chases activity, striving, and exhaustion, yet in Christ, we find a stillness that is filled with power. Like an electrical plug resting in its socket, or a dam that harnesses a river’s force, our abiding in Christ is not inactivity but the source of all true activity. Outside of Christ, we are caught in cycles of restless striving, wearing ourselves out. But inside Christ, His grace flows through us, empowering our labor and fruitfulness. Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 15:10 capture this reality—he worked harder than anyone, but it was not him; it was the grace of God within him.