When soccer star Sadio Mané from Senegal was playing for Liverpool in the English Premier League, he was one of the world’s highest paid African players, making millions of dollars per year. Fans spotted a picture of Mané carrying an iPhone with a cracked screen and joked about him using the damaged device. His response was unflustered. "Why would I want ten Ferraris, twenty diamond watches, and two jet planes?” he asked. “I starved, I worked in the fields, played barefoot, and didn't go to school. Now I can help people. I prefer to build schools and give poor people food or clothing. . . . [Give] some of what life has given me."
Mané knew how selfish it would be to hoard all his prosperity when so many of his neighbors back home struggled under crushing conditions. Hebrews reminds us that this generous way of life is for all of us, not only for those who are wealthy. “Do not forget to do good and to share with others,” Scripture says, “for with such sacrifices God is pleased” (13:16). Nurturing a generous heart isn’t only the right thing to do, but according to Hebrews, generosity also makes God smile. Who doesn’t want to make God pleased?
Generosity isn’t defined simply by how much we give. Instead, generosity refers to the posture of our heart. One thing we can do that’s “pleasing to [God]” (v. 21) is to simply open our hands and share what we have.
William Temple, a nineteenth-century English bishop, once concluded a sermon to Oxford students with the words of the hymn “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross.” But he cautioned against taking the song lightly. “If you mean [the words] with all your hearts, sing them as loud as you can,” Temple said. “If you don’t mean them at all, keep silent. If you mean them even a little, and want to mean them more, sing them very softly.” The crowd went quiet as everyone eyed the lyrics. Slowly, thousands of voices began to sing in a whisper, mouthing the final lines with gravity: “Love so amazing, so divine / Demands my soul, my life, my all.”
Those Oxford students understood the reality that believing in and following Jesus is a serious choice, because it means saying yes to a radical love that demands everything from us. Following Christ requires our entire life, our whole being. He plainly told His disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me” (Matthew 16:24). No one should make this choice flippantly.
Yet, following Jesus is also the way to our deepest joy. Life with Him, we’ll discover, is the life we truly desire. It appears a great paradox. However, if we respond to God’s love, believe in Christ, and relinquish our selfish, shortsighted demands, we’ll find the life our soul craves (v. 25).
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.
The US Department of Transportation reported that in 2021, US airlines mishandled two million bags. Thankfully, many pieces were delayed or lost for only a short period. Thousands of bags were lost for good, however. No wonder there’s a surging market for GPS devices that attach to gear, allowing you to track bags when airlines have given up. We’re all afraid that those in charge can’t be trusted to keep track of what’s important.
Israel had a similar fear about God, only they feared that He was going to lose them. As the people prepared to enter their new homeland, Moses shared the unsettling news that he wouldn’t be guiding them. He explained that he was old and “no longer able to lead [them]” (Deuteronomy 31:2). The people were likely stunned. Moses represented God’s presence and offered His words. Would He forget about them now? Would God lose them in this wilderness?
“Do not be afraid or terrified,” Moses said, “for the
A Finnish soldier in the three-month Winter War with Russia (1939–1940) lay wounded on the battlefield. A Russian soldier walked his way, pointing his rifle. The Finn was certain he’d met his end. However, the Russian handed him a medic kit, then kept moving. Remarkably, the Finn later found himself in a similar situation, only the roles were reversed—a Russian soldier lay wounded and helpless on the battlefield. The Finn handed him medical supplies and walked on.
Jesus gave us a central, guiding principle for our lives: “In everything, do to others what you would have them do to you” (Matthew 7:12) Can you imagine how different our world would be if believers kept this one simple principle? Can we calculate how much oppression would end if we collectively obeyed Jesus’ wisdom? If only, as He guides us, we would give others the same compassion and mercy we’d hope to receive ourselves. As we “give good gifts” to others we reflect the heart of our “Father in heaven [who gives] good gifts to” those He loves (v. 11).
It’s vital that we see others as not merely enemies or strangers or people with whom we compete for resources or opportunities. Instead, we should see their need for mercy and kindness just as we need it. And as we do, our posture and perspective will change. Then, as God provides, we can freely offer them the love He’s freely offered to us.
I flew to India, a land I’d never visited, and arrived at the Bengaluru airport after midnight. Though there’d been a flurry of emails, I didn’t know who was picking me up or where I should meet him. I followed the streaming mass of humanity to the baggage claim and customs, then out into the sticky night where I tried to spot a pair of friendly eyes among the sea of faces. For an hour, I walked back and forth in front of the crowd, hoping someone would recognize me. A kind man finally approached. “Are you Winn?” he asked. “I’m so sorry. I thought I’d recognize you, and you kept walking in front of me—but you didn’t look how I expected.”
We regularly get confused and fail to recognize people or places we should know. God provides an unmistakable way of recognizing Him, however. He arrived in our world as Jesus, who “is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of [God’s] being” (Hebrews 1:3). Christ is God’s exact representation. When we see Him, we have complete confidence that we are seeing God.
If we want to know what God is like—what He would say, how He would love—then we need only look and listen to Jesus. Are we truly hearing what “he has spoken” (v. 2) through Him? Are we actually following His truth? To be sure that we know how to recognize God, we fix our gaze on the Son and learn from Him.
As Hurricane Laura raged toward Louisiana’s coast in the US, the warnings were dire. One sheriff, noting the 150-mile-per-hour winds, issued this jolting message: “Please evacuate. But if you choose to stay and we can't get to you, write your name, address, social security number and next of kin and put it in a Ziploc bag in your pocket. Praying that it does not come to this.” Rescue crews knew that once Laura hit land, there was little they could do. They could only watch the storm’s destructive path—helpless in its wake.
Whenever God’s people faced calamity in the Old Testament, however, His words were much different, far more certain and hopeful. Whether they faced natural disasters or the effects of her own rebellion, God promised His presence in the midst of their destruction. He said that He would “look with compassion on all her ruins; [and] will make her deserts like Eden, her wastelands like the garden of the Lord” (Isaiah 51:3). And more, God always assured His people of the rescue and healing that would certainly follow if they would only trust Him. Even though “the heavens [would] vanish like smoke,” God said, His “salvation [would] last forever” (v. 6). Whatever the damage, His ultimate goodness toward them would not be thwarted, ever.
God doesn’t safeguard us from hardship, but He does promise to never leave us alone, not even in the wildest storm. His restorative healing extends far beyond the ruins.
If you were to stroll along the old brick wall stretching between the Protestant and Catholic graveyards in Roermond, Netherlands, you’d discover a curious site. On each side, flush against the wall stands two identical towering headstones: one for a Protestant husband and one for his Catholic wife. Cultural rules required they be buried in separate cemeteries. They wouldn’t accept their fate, however. Their unusual headstones are high enough to reach above the fenced obstruction so that at the top there’s maybe only a foot or two of air separating them. Atop each, a sculptured arm reaches out to the other, each clasping the other’s hand. The couple refused to be separated, not even in death.
The Song of Songs explains love’s power. “Love is as strong as death,” Solomon says, “its jealousy unyielding as the grave” (8:6). True love is powerful, ferocious. “It burns like a blazing fire” (v. 6). True love never surrenders, won’t be silenced, and can’t be destroyed. “Many waters cannot quench love,” writes Solomon. “Rivers cannot sweep it away” (v. 7).
“God is love” (1 John 4:16). Our strongest love is only a fractured reflection of His ferocious love for us. He’s the ultimate source of any love that’s genuine, any love that holds fast.
On March 14, 2019, NASA rockets ignited, catapulting astronaut Christina Koch toward the International Space Station. Koch wouldn’t return to earth for 328 days, giving her the record for the longest continuous space flight by a woman. Every day, living roughly 254 miles above the earth, a screen kept track of Koch’s time in five-minute increments. She had a myriad of daily tasks to complete (from meals to experiments), and—hour after hour—a red line inched along the display, constantly showing whether Koch was ahead or behind schedule. Not a moment to waste.
While certainly not recommending anything so intrusive as a red line ruling over our life, the apostle Paul did encourage us to carefully use our precious, limited resource of time. “Be very careful then, how you live,” Paul wrote, “not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil” (Ephesians 5:15–16). God’s wisdom instructs us to fill our days with intention and care, employing them to practice obedience to Him, to love our neighbor, and to participate in Jesus’ ongoing redemption in the world. Sadly, it’s entirely possible to ignore wisdom’s instruction and instead use our time foolishly (v. 17), frittering away our years in selfish or destructive pursuits.
The point isn’t to obsessively fret about time but simply to follow God in obedience and trust. He will help us make the most of our days.
