 The Urgency We’ve Lost
You’re sitting in a coffee shop, catching up with an old college friend. You haven’t seen him in years. The conversation flows easily: work, family, hobbies, the usual catching up. He mentions he’s going through a rough patch. His marriage is struggling. He’s questioning a lot of things he used to be certain about. He’s searching. And there it is. The opening. The moment when you could say something about Jesus, about the hope you have, about the Gospel that’s changed everything for you. But you don’t. You sympathize. You offer some generic encouragement. You tell him you hope things get better. And then you change the subject, relieved that the awkward moment passed without you having to “go there.” Later, driving home, you feel it. That nagging sense that you missed something. That maybe God orchestrated that whole conversation to give you an opportunity to share Christ. But you let fear win. Fear of being weird. Fear of damaging the friendship. Fear of not having the right words. And then you rationalize it: He knows I’m a Christian. If he wanted to talk about faith, he would have brought it up. I don’t want to be pushy. There will be other opportunities. But what if there aren’t? This is the question that haunted Richard Baxter, the 17th-century English pastor whose urgency in evangelism shaped generations of Christians after him. And it’s the question that should haunt us: What if people are perishing while we stay silent? The Line That Changed Everything Richard Baxter is best known for a single, searing sentence that has echoed through church history for over three centuries: “I preached as never sure to preach again, and as a dying man to dying men.” Read that slowly. Let it sink in. As never sure to preach again. Every sermon might be his last. Every conversation might be the final opportunity. He preached with the urgency of a man who didn’t know if he’d have tomorrow. And as a dying man to dying men. He wasn’t speaking from a position of superiority or security. He was a sinner addressing sinners. A mortal speaking to mortals. A man on his way to eternity addressing others on the same journey. And he knew, deeply, viscerally knew, that eternity was real, that judgment was coming, and that where people spent forever mattered infinitely more than anything else. This wasn’t rhetorical flourish. This was Baxter’s actual lived reality. He suffered from chronic illness his entire adult life. Kidney stones. Tuberculosis. Bleeding. Constant pain. He wrote in his autobiography, Reliquiae Baxterianae, that he lived for decades convinced each year would be his last. Death wasn’t theoretical for Baxter. It was his constant companion. And this shaped everything about how he did ministry. When he arrived in Kidderminster in 1641 as a young pastor of twenty-six, he found a town of about 800 families, most of them spiritually dead. They were baptized, they attended church occasionally, they knew the Lord’s Prayer. But they didn’t know Christ. They were, in Baxter’s assessment, unconverted, going through religious motions while their souls remained untouched by saving grace. Baxter could have been content with preaching solid sermons on Sundays, maintaining the machinery of parish life, collecting his salary, and living quietly. Most pastors did exactly that. But Baxter couldn’t. Because he believed that unconverted people were headed for hell. And he loved them too much to let them go there without warning. So he preached. With tears. With urgency. With power. Not to manipulate, but because he genuinely believed that eternity hung in the balance and that God had appointed him as a watchman to warn the people. Why Hell Matters in Gospel Proclamation Here’s where modern Christians get squeamish, I know I do. We don’t like talking about hell. It feels medieval, fire-and-brimstone, manipulative. We’ve seen too many street preachers with “Turn or Burn” signs. We’ve heard about too many hellfire sermons seemingly designed to terrify rather than convert. So we’ve swung the other direction: we talk about Jesus as friend, life coach, the one who makes you whole and gives you purpose. We emphasize God’s love and grace. All of which is true. But it’s not the whole truth. Jesus talked about hell more than anyone else in the New Testament. More than Paul. More than Peter. More than John. Read the Gospels honestly, and you can’t avoid it. Gehenna. Outer darkness. Weeping and gnashing of teeth. The fire that never goes out. Eternal punishment. Jesus spoke these words. Not gleefully. Not to scare people into obedience. But truthfully, because he was describing reality. And if hell is real, and Jesus said it is, then it changes (or ought to change) everything about evangelism. Baxter understood this. In his massive work A Call to the Unconverted, which sold 30,000 copies in its first printing (in 1657, when the population of England was only about 5 million), Baxter wrote with aching urgency to those who claimed Christianity but showed no evidence of genuine conversion: “Do you not believe that there is a Heaven and a Hell? That all the unconverted shall be damned, and all the sanctified only shall be saved? Why then do you delay? Are these not matters of everlasting consequence?... O sirs, what should I say to you, or what should I do for you? Shall I come to you with tears, or shall I come with a rod of correction?” Notice the pastoral heart here. Baxter isn’t threatening. He’s pleading. He’s asking: Don’t you believe what Scripture says? Don’t you understand what’s at stake? If you knew a building was on fire and people were inside, would you calmly suggest they consider leaving, or would you shout with urgency? Hell is the fire. And far too many people don’t appear to believe the building’s burning. The Biblical Foundation for Evangelistic Urgency Baxter didn’t invent this urgency. He found it in Scripture. Look at how the Apostle Paul describes his own ministry in 2 Corinthians 5:11: “Therefore, knowing the fear of the Lord, we persuade others.” Paul’s evangelistic zeal wasn’t rooted merely in love for people (though it included that). It was rooted in the fear of the Lord, a holy awe before the reality of God’s judgment. Paul knew what awaited those who rejected Christ, and that knowledge drove him to persuade, to plead, to argue, to warn. Romans 9:1-3 shows the depth of Paul’s anguish: “I am speaking the truth in Christ - I am not lying; my conscience bears me witness in the Holy Spirit - that I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brothers, my kinsmen according to the flesh.” Read that again. Paul says he would be willing to be damned if it meant his fellow Jews would be saved. That’s not casual concern. That’s soul-wrenching agony over people headed for destruction. Or consider Jude 22-23: “And have mercy on those who doubt; save others by snatching them out of the fire; to others show mercy with fear, hating even the garment stained by the flesh.” Snatching them out of the fire. Not gently suggesting they reconsider. Not offering helpful advice for better living. Snatching. With urgency. Because fire doesn’t wait. Ezekiel 33:7-9 gives us the watchman imagery that Baxter took so seriously: “So you, son of man, I have made a watchman for the house of Israel. Whenever you hear a word from my mouth, you shall give them warning from me. If I say to the wicked, O wicked one, you shall surely die, and you do not speak to warn the wicked to turn from his way, that wicked person shall die in his iniquity, but his blood I will require at your hand. But if you warn the wicked to turn from his way, and he does not turn from his way, that person shall die in his iniquity, but you will have delivered your soul.” Their blood on your hands if you don’t warn them. That’s sobering language. And Baxter took it literally. He believed that if he failed to warn the unconverted in Kidderminster, God would hold him accountable for their damnation. This is the biblical foundation for evangelistic urgency: people are perishing, eternity is real, judgment is coming, and God has appointed us as ambassadors to plead with them to be reconciled to him (2 Corinthians 5:20). Wesley’s Urgency: “You Have Nothing to Do But Save Souls” John Wesley came at this from a slightly different angle but with the same burning conviction. Wesley famously told his Methodist preachers: “You have nothing to do but save souls. Therefore spend and be spent in this work.” Nothing to do but save souls. Not “among other things, try to save souls.” Not “when you have time, save souls.” But: this is your primary calling, your consuming passion, your life’s work. Wesley preached with tears. Eyewitness accounts describe him weeping in the pulpit as he pleaded with people to turn to Christ. He rode over 250,000 miles on horseback across England, Scotland, and Ireland, often preaching three times a day, because he couldn’t bear the thought of people dying without hearing the Gospel. In his journal entry for June 6, 1772, Wesley writes of preaching to a crowd of miners: “I enforced those awful words, ‘It is appointed unto men once to die, and after this the judgment.’ Many of the wild beasts of the people were presente; but the Lion of the tribe of Judah had them all in chains.” Notice the language: “awful words.” Not awful in the sense of terrible, but awful in the old sense: awe-full, striking the heart with holy fear. Wesley preached judgment not to terrify but to awaken, to shake people out of their spiritual slumber before it was too late. And like Baxter, Wesley believed that the fear of hell was a legitimate motivation for evangelism. Not the only motivation - love for God and love for neighbor were primary - but a real one. If you truly love someone, you don’t let them walk off a cliff while you stand silent. Wesley wrote in his sermon “The Way to the Kingdom”: “First, repent; that is, know yourselves. This is the first repentance, previous to faith; even conviction, or self-knowledge. Awake, then, thou that sleepest... God calleth thee now by my mouth; and bids thee know thyself, a sinner; yea, a guilty, helpless sinner, though thou feel it not.” Awake. Know yourself a sinner. These aren’t soft, therapeutic words. These are urgent, life-or-death words. Because Wesley, like Baxter, believed the stakes were eternal. The Danger of Casual Christianity Here’s what Baxter and Wesley both saw clearly, and what we’ve largely lost: casual Christianity kills evangelistic urgency. If you believe that most people are basically good and will probably make it to Heaven somehow, then there’s no urgency. If you believe that hell is either non-existent or that a loving God would never send anyone there, then there’s no urgency. If you believe that people have endless opportunities to respond to the Gospel even after death, then there’s no urgency. But if you believe what Scripture actually teaches, that all have sinned and fall short of God’s glory (Romans 3:23), that the wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23), that there is no other name under heaven by which people can be saved (Acts 4:12), that whoever doesn’t believe is condemned already (John 3:18), and that it is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment (Hebrews 9:27), then urgency is the only appropriate response. Baxter saw nominal Christians all around him in 17th-century England. People who were baptized, who attended church, who knew the creeds and prayers, but who showed no evidence of genuine spiritual life. They were, in his assessment, unconverted. And unconverted people, no matter how religious, are lost. So he pleaded with them. He warned them. He wept over them. Not because he was cruel or enjoyed scaring people, but because he loved them and believed the truth. In A Call to the Unconverted, Baxter writes: “I confess I am in a strait what course to take with you. I know not what to say, or what to do, to save you. But surely it belongs to me to seek your salvation, and I must do my best, and leave the success to God.” Do you hear the pastoral heart there? The agony? He’s willing to do whatever it takes - plead, warn, reason, beg - if it might be the means God uses to awaken someone from spiritual death. What This Means for You Right Now So what does Baxter’s urgency mean for you in 2026? It doesn’t mean you stand on street corners with megaphones shouting at people. It doesn’t mean you manipulate or coerce or use fear tactics to pressure people into decisions. Baxter himself rejected that approach. He wrote, “Win them by love, and you win them indeed.” But it does mean you take evangelism seriously. Really seriously. It means you stop making excuses for your silence. You stop hiding behind “I don’t want to be pushy” or “I’m not good with words” or “They already know I’m a Christian” or “I’ll let my actions do all the talking.” It means you actually believe what you say you believe. If hell is real, if people are truly perishing without Christ, if there really is no other name by which people can be saved, then how can you stay silent? Baxter put it bluntly: “If you believed that your neighbor’s house was on fire, would you not wake him? And yet you can let your neighbor’s soul perish and never warn him of his danger?” Here’s the uncomfortable truth: our lack of evangelistic urgency reveals our actual beliefs, not our stated beliefs. If we really believed that people without Christ are headed for eternal separation from God, we wouldn’t casually let weeks, months, years pass without ever sharing the Gospel with those around us. But most of us do exactly that. We live as functional universalists, acting as though everyone will be fine in the end, as though eternity doesn’t really hang in the balance, as though our silence doesn’t matter. It does matter. Desperately. Love Compels Us to Speak But here’s the crucial balance: urgency must be rooted in love, not fear. Not our fear of being held accountable (though Baxter took that seriously). Not our fear of judgment. But love for God and love for neighbor. Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:14-15: “For the love of Christ controls us, because we have concluded this: that one has died for all, therefore all have died; and he died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised.” The love of Christ controls us. Compels us. Drives us. This is the engine of evangelism - not guilt, not duty, but love. Love for the Christ who died for us. Love for the people he died for. Baxter understood this. Listen to his pastoral heart in The Reformed Pastor: “O what a joy will it be to meet so many in heaven who shall there bless God for your labors! What a comfort to think that you have turned many to righteousness, and that they shall shine as the stars for ever and ever!” This is the positive vision: the joy of heaven, the glory of seeing people reconciled to God, the privilege of being used by God to snatch souls from destruction and bring them into eternal life. Yes, hell is real. Yes, judgment is coming. Yes, people are perishing. But the Gospel isn’t just bad news about sin and death. It’s gloriously good news about Jesus: his life, his death, his resurrection, his offer of forgiveness and new life to all who believe. We share this news not primarily because we’re afraid of what happens if we don’t, but because we love people enough to tell them the truth, the whole truth, both the bad news that makes the good news so good. Key Principle Evangelistic urgency flows from believing that eternity is real, that people are truly lost without Christ, and that God has appointed us as ambassadors to proclaim the Gospel with both love and honesty about the stakes involved. This isn’t about manipulation or fear tactics. It’s about taking God’s Word seriously when it says that all have sinned, that the wages of sin is death, that Jesus is the only way to the Father, and that judgment is coming. Baxter preached as a dying man to dying men because he knew it was true. We’re all dying. We’re all headed for eternity. And where we spend eternity depends on whether we’ve been reconciled to God through faith in Christ. If you believe that, really believe it, then everything changes. Your conversations with coworkers change. Your relationships with family members change. Your prayers change. Your priorities change. Because you can’t genuinely believe people are perishing and remain silent. Reflect
This Week Identify three people in your life who, as far as you know, do not know Christ. Write their names down. Commit to praying for them every day this week. But don’t just pray vague prayers like “Bless them, Lord.” Pray with Baxter’s urgency. Pray believing that eternity is real, that they’re lost without Christ, and that God can use you to reach them. Pray something like this: “Father, you love [Name] more than I ever could. You sent your Son to die for them. But they don’t know you. They’re heading toward judgment, and I can’t bear the thought of them spending eternity separated from you. Open their eyes. Soften their heart. Give me an opportunity to share the Gospel with them. Give me courage to speak. And use my words, however inadequate, to draw them to Christ. Save them, Lord. Please save them. In Jesus’s name, Amen.” Pray this way every day this week. Notice what happens in your own heart as you do. Prepare your Gospel presentation. Can you clearly articulate the Gospel in 2-3 minutes? Right now, out loud, could you explain:
If you can’t, this week is the time to learn. Use a simple framework like the Romans Road:
Memorize one of these frameworks. Practice saying it out loud to yourself. Then practice sharing it with a Christian friend. And don’t forget to include your story of how you came to know the Lord and what he has done in your life. The goal: be ready when God gives you the opportunity. This Month Step out in faith. Don’t just pray and prepare. Actually share the Gospel with someone this month. Start with someone you know who’s spiritually curious or going through a hard time. Invite them to coffee. Ask them how they’re doing. Listen well. Then, when the moment comes, don’t chicken out. You could say something like: “Can I share something with you that’s made all the difference in my life? I don’t want to be pushy, but if you’re open to it, I’d love to tell you what I believe and why it matters.” Then share. Simply. Clearly. From your heart. Don’t worry about having perfect words. Don’t worry about answering every objection. Just tell them about Jesus - who he is, what he did, why it matters, and how they can respond. And trust that God, who is sovereign over salvation, can use your imperfect words to accomplish his perfect purposes. Baxter would say: better to stumble through sharing the Gospel than to stay eloquently silent while people perish. Closing Prayer Lord Jesus, you are the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through you. Forgive me for living as though this truth doesn’t matter, for staying silent when I should speak, for caring more about comfort than about the souls of those around me. Give me Baxter’s urgency. Help me believe, really believe, that eternity is real, that Heaven and hell are real, that people without you are truly lost. Break my heart for what breaks yours. But don’t let my urgency become manipulation. Let it flow from love. Love for you, who died for me. Love for my neighbor, who needs to know you. Give me courage to speak. Give me wisdom to know when and how. Give me clarity to present the Gospel simply and truthfully. And give me faith to trust that you are the one who saves, not my eloquence or my effort. Use me, Lord. Even with all my fears and inadequacies, use me to point someone toward you. Let my life and my words bear witness to the hope I have in Christ. For your glory and their salvation. Amen. Remember: Christianity is practical because Christianity is true. Christianity is practical because Christianity works. Christianity is practical because Christianity was meant to be put into practice. Soli Deo Gloria
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 Based on Luke 9:28-36
Opening Scripture Now about eight days after these sayings he took with him Peter and John and James and went up on the mountain to pray. And as he was praying, the appearance of his face was altered, and his clothing became dazzling white... And a voice came out of the cloud, saying, “This is my Son, my Chosen One; listen to him!” (Luke 9:28-29, 35) Where We Are in the Story Yesterday was Transfiguration Sunday, the last day of Epiphany before we enter Lent on Ash Wednesday. For the past seven weeks, we’ve watched the light of Christ break into the darkness - revealed to the Magi, proclaimed at his baptism, demonstrated in his first miracle, extended to Samaritans and Gentiles. Now, on a mountain, three disciples get a glimpse behind the veil. They see Jesus as he truly is: glorified, radiant, conversing with Moses and Elijah about his coming “departure” in Jerusalem. This is the summit of Epiphany, the brightest revelation of Christ’s glory before the darkness of the cross. This is the hinge. The turning point. The moment when glory meets suffering, when revelation gives way to crucifixion, when the light prepares to be swallowed by darkness - but only for a time. Why This Moment Matters Peter, James, and John have just heard Jesus predict his death for the first time (Luke 9:22). He told them plainly: “The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.” But they didn’t want to hear it. I know I wouldn’t. Peter tried to rebuke him (Matthew 16:22). The idea of a suffering Messiah didn’t fit their categories. They wanted a conquering king, not a crucified servant. So Jesus takes them up the mountain. He lets them see who he really is. For just a moment, the glory he laid aside to become human blazes through. His face shines like the sun. His clothes become dazzling white. Moses and Elijah appear, representing the Law and the Prophets, and they’re talking with Jesus about his “exodus” - his departure, his death - in Jerusalem. What a conversation that must have been! This is Jesus saying to his bewildered disciples: “I know what I’m walking into. And I’m going willingly. But don’t forget who I am. When you see me hanging on a cross, remember this mountain. Remember that the one who suffers is the one who is glorious.” The Voice from the Cloud Then the Father speaks: “This is my Son, my Chosen One; listen to him!” Not just “believe in him” or “admire him” or “study him.” Listen to him. And what has Jesus just said? He said he must suffer, be rejected, be killed, and rise again. He said, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23). The path to glory goes through suffering. The way to resurrection runs through death. The road to the Kingdom passes through Gethsemane and Golgotha. This is what the disciples needed to understand. This is what we need to understand as we prepare to enter Lent. The Christian life isn’t an escape from suffering. It’s not prosperity, health, and wealth. It’s not climbing the ladder of success while holding a Bible. It’s following a crucified King on the narrow road that leads through death to life. The Glory That Sustains But here’s the gift of Transfiguration Sunday: We enter Lent having seen the glory. When the road gets hard, when the cross gets heavy, when Lent feels long and dark, we remember the mountain. We remember that the one we follow isn’t just a suffering servant, he’s the glorified Son of God. The one who sweated blood in Gethsemane is the same one whose face shone like the sun. The one who hung on the cross is the one Moses and Elijah bow before. The suffering is real. But it’s not the end of the story. The cross is coming. But so is the resurrection. Lent is necessary. But Easter is guaranteed. This is why the church gives us Transfiguration Sunday before Ash Wednesday. We need to see the glory before we walk into the darkness. We need to hear the Father’s voice, “This is my Son,” before we hear the crowd’s voice, “Crucify him!” We need to know that the one we’re following knows where he’s going, and that the path through suffering leads to glory. Preparing for Lent So here’s what Transfiguration Sunday is calling us to do as we stand on the edge of Lent: First, listen to Jesus. The Father’s command is clear: “Listen to him!” That means we don’t get to edit Jesus, to take the parts we like and ignore the parts that make us uncomfortable. We listen to all of it. The Sermon on the Mount and the predictions of suffering. The call to love enemies and the call to take up our cross. The promise of abundant life and the warning about the narrow gate. Second, remember the glory. When Lent gets hard, and it will, when you’re confronted with your sin, when you’re called to repent, when you’re asked to let go of something you’ve been clinging to, remember: this is the path to glory. You’re not doing this to earn God’s favor. You’re doing it because God is making you like Christ, and the path to Christlikeness goes through the cross. Third, follow him into the darkness. Jesus didn’t stay on the mountain. He came down. He set his face toward Jerusalem. He walked knowingly, willingly, into suffering and death. And he invites us to follow. Not to stay on the mountaintop of spiritual highs, but to come down into the valley, to walk the hard road, to embrace the cross. Because on the other side of the cross is the empty tomb. On the other side of Lent is Easter. On the other side of death is resurrection. The Road Ahead On Sunday, we stood at the hinge between Epiphany and Lent, between glory and suffering, between light and darkness. On Wednesday, we’ll hear the words: “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” For the next forty days, we’ll walk with Jesus toward Jerusalem. We’ll confront our sin. We’ll examine our hearts. We’ll practice repentance, fasting, prayer. We’ll feel the weight of the cross. But we’ll do it knowing what Peter, James, and John knew after the Transfiguration: the one we follow is glorious, even when he’s suffering. The one who calls us to the cross is the one who conquered it. The one who leads us through death is the one who rose from the dead. So don’t be afraid of Lent. Don’t shrink back from the hard work of repentance and self-examination. Don’t avoid the cross. Instead, listen to Jesus. Follow him. Trust that he knows the way. And remember that the glory you’ve seen in Epiphany is the glory that’s coming in Easter, and the glory that will one day be revealed in you. Reflection Questions
Prayer (Based on 2 Corinthians 3:18 and Luke 9:35) Lord Jesus, you who were transfigured in glory on the mountain, help me to see you rightly - not just as a suffering servant, but as the glorified Son of God. As I prepare to enter Lent, give me courage to follow you into the darkness, trusting that you know the way through death to life. Teach me to listen to you - to all of you, not just the comfortable parts. Transform me from one degree of glory to another as I behold you, even in the valley of the shadow of death. In your name, Amen. Action Step Today or tomorrow, before Ash Wednesday, spend 30 minutes in quiet reflection. Ask God:
Write down what you sense, and carry it with you into Lent as your focus for the next forty days. Benediction (Based on 2 Peter 1:16-19) May you remember the glory you have seen. May you hold fast to the prophetic word as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts. And may you follow the one who was transfigured in glory, trusting that he will lead you through the cross to the resurrection. Go in peace, and prepare your heart for the journey ahead.  Welcome to the Week
We’re now well into the year, past the initial promises and into the proving ground of perseverance. This week, the prayers ahead invite you not to seek comfort, but capability - not easier circumstances, but stronger faith. Come honestly before the One who answers with awesome deeds, the God who knows both your limitations and his limitless power to work through them (and thank the Lord for that!). “Do not pray for easy lives. Pray to be stronger men. Do not pray for tasks equal to your powers. Pray for powers equal to your task.” (Phillips Brooks) This Week’s Scripture
Adoration Psalm 65:5 By awesome deeds you answer us with righteousness, O God of our salvation, the hope of all the ends of the earth and of the farthest seas; O Worship the King (verse 1) O worship the King, all glorious above, O gratefully sing God’s power and God’s love; our Shield and Defender, the Ancient of Days, pavilioned in splendor, and girded with praise. (Robert Grant) Take time now to offer God your praise and worship. Confession He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt: “Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” (Luke 18:9-14) Heavenly Father, blot out, we beseech thee, our past transgressions; forgive us our frequent negligence and ignorance; and lift us up to new energy of mind and devotion of heart, that we might have strength to persevere even to the end, through success and failure, through good report and evil report. This we ask in the name of Jesus Christ and for his sake. Amen. (The Book of Worship for Church and Home, 1965) As David did in Psalm 139, ask the Lord to search you and know you through and through. Confess the sins God brings to mind, knowing you are forgiven and that he will cleanse you from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9). Thanksgiving Gracious Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, thank you for your promises. You promise you will never leave us nor forsake us. You will help us fight the good fight, finish the race, and keep the faith. We know that were we to go one day without your sovereign grace and strength undergirding us, we would fail miserably. And so, O Lord, we give you our deepest thanks. You have promised that there is a crown of righteousness awaiting us for seeking you in this life and desiring your appearance. This isn’t something you owe us, but another expression of your grace in our lives. O Lord, for this and more, we give you our thanks. In Christ we pray, Amen. (based on 2 Timothy 4:6-8) Ask the Spirit to search your heart and mind and then spend some time thanking God for who he is and the many ways he has poured out his goodness and grace in your life. Prayer Prompts Use the following prayer prompts to encourage you to pray beyond your usual prayer requests. These prompts are included here to help get your own creative juices flowing and not to be regarded as strict and legalistic requirements. Use them or do not use them according to your need. May the Lord bless you as you go deeper with him in the holy communion of prayer. Petition – prayers for yourself
Intercession – prayers for others
The kingdom of God does not mean food and drink but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. Amen. (Romans 14:17) A Word as You Go The tax collector’s prayer still echoes across the centuries: “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” This week, you’ve been reminded that strength comes not from self-sufficiency but from humble dependence on the One who answers with awesome deeds. As you return to your tasks and callings, carry this posture with you, the open hand, the honest heart, the recognition that every power you need flows from God’s grace. He who has begun a good work in you will be faithful to complete it. Go now in his strength, not your own. Welcome to the Week
The fifth week of a new year often arrives quietly, without fanfare or the weight of fresh resolutions. Yet here, in this ordinary (and cold) stretch of February days, God invites you into the extraordinary work of prayer not, as Andrew Murray puts it, bounded by what you think is possible, but opened wide to the limitless reach of God’s power and grace. This week, resist the temptation to pray small prayers to a big God. Come with your doubts and your certainties, your needs and your thanksgivings, and discover again that the One who hears you is far greater than anything you can ask or imagine. “Beware in your prayer, above everything, of limiting God, not only by unbelief, but by fancying that you know what he can do.” (Andrew Murray) This Week’s Scripture
Adoration Psalm 66:1-4 Shout for joy to God, all the earth; sing the glory of his name; give to him glorious praise! Say to God, “How awesome are your deeds! So great is your power that your enemies come cringing to you. All the earth worships you and sings praises to you; they sing praises to your name.” Praise, My Soul, the King of Heaven (verse 1) Praise, my soul, the King of heaven, to the throne by tribute bring; ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven, ever more God’s praises sing. Alleluia! Alleluia! Praise the everlasting King. (Henry F. Lyte) Take time now to offer God your praise and worship. Confession Remember Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, the offspring of David, as preached in my gospel, for which I am suffering, bound with chains as a criminal. But the word of God is not bound! Therefore I endure everything for the sake of the elect, that they also may obtain the salvation that is in Christ Jesus with eternal glory. The saying is trustworthy, for: If we have died with him, we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him; if we deny him, he also will deny us; if we are faithless, he remains faithful—for he cannot deny himself. (2 Timothy 2:8-13) Have mercy upon us, O God, according to your lovingkindness. According to the multitude of your tender mercies, blot our transgressions. Wash us thoroughly from our iniquities, and cleanse us from our sins. For we acknowledge our transgressions, and our sin is ever before us. Create in us clean hearts, O God, and renew a right spirit within us; through Jesus Christ our Lord. (W.E. Orchard. The United Methodist Book of Worship) As David did in Psalm 139, ask the Lord to search you and know you through and through. Confess the sins God brings to mind, knowing you are forgiven and that He will cleanse you from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9). Thanksgiving Mighty God of mercy, we thank you for the resurrection dawn bringing the glory of our risen Lord who makes every day new. Especially we thank you for the beauty of your creation, the new creation in Christ and all gifts of healing and forgiveness, the sustaining love of family and friends, and the fellowship of faith in your church. In Christ we pray, Amen. (from Daily Prayer) Spend some time reflecting on the prayer of thanksgiving above and then thank God for who he is and the many ways he has poured out his goodness and grace in your life. Prayer Prompts Use the following prayer prompts to encourage you to pray beyond your usual prayer requests. These prompts are included here to help get your own creative juices flowing and not to be regarded as strict and legalistic requirements. Use them or do not use them according to your need. May the Lord bless you as you go deeper with him in the holy communion of prayer. Petition – prayers for yourself
“Send me now, my God, to accomplish all you have assigned to me. Let me live and work without fear and timidity. Amen.” (Reuben Job) A Word as You Go The God who called you to pray this week is the same God who remains faithful even when we are faithless, who cannot deny himself, whose word is never bound. As you step back into the world with its demands and distractions, carry with you the courage to love the unlovely and the boldness to speak truth to those who need it most. You have been ransomed, healed, restored, and forgiven; now go and live like it. The One who sends you goes with you, and that changes everything. Welcome to the WeekThe fourth week of a new year is neither the breathless start nor the weary middle, it’s the place where resolve begins to meet reality. This week, let prayer be less about striving and more about communion. Come to the One who already knows your struggles and your faith, your strength and your weariness. Here, in the greatest depths, you will find that the most honest prayer is not eloquent speech about God, but simple conversation with him.
At the profoundest depths in life, men talk not about God but with him. (D. Elton Trueblood) This Week’s Scripture
Adoration Luke 17:5-6 The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” And the Lord said, “If you had faith like a grain of mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you. Holy, Holy, Holy! Lord God Almighty (verse 1) Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty! Early in the morning our song shall rise to thee. Holy, holy, holy! Merciful and mighty, God in three persons, blessed Trinity! Take time now to offer God your praise and worship. Confession Therefore do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord, nor of me his prisoner, but share in suffering for the gospel by the power of God, who saved us and called us to a holy calling, not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began, and which now has been manifested through the appearing of our Savior Christ Jesus, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel, for which I was appointed a preacher and apostle and teacher, which is why I suffer as I do. But I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed, and I am convinced that he is able to guard until that day what has been entrusted to me. (2 Timothy 1:8-12) As David did in Psalm 139, ask the Lord to search you and know you through and through. Confess the sins God brings to mind, knowing you are forgiven and that He will cleanse you from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9). Thanksgiving Accept, O Lord God, our Father, the sacrifices of our thanksgiving; this, of praise, for Thy greater mercies already afforded to us; and this, of prayer, for the continuance and enlargement of them; this, of penitence, for such only recompense as our sinful nature can endeavor; and this, of the love of our hearts, as the only gift Thou dos ask or desire; and all these, through the all-holy and atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ Thy Son our Savior. (John Donne) Spend some time reflecting on the prayer of thanksgiving above and then thank God for who he is and the many ways he has poured out his goodness and grace in your life. Prayer Prompts Use the following prayer prompts to encourage you to pray beyond your usual prayer requests. These prompts are included here to help get your own creative juices flowing and not to be regarded as strict and legalistic requirements. Use them or do not use them according to your need. May the Lord bless you as you go deeper with him in the holy communion of prayer. Petition – prayers for yourself
Intercession – prayers for others
Almighty God, give us grace, that we may cast away the works of darkness, and put upon us the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life, (in which thy son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility;) that in the last day when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the quick and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal, through him who liveth and reigneth with thee and the holy ghost now and ever. Amen. (Thomas Cranmer) A Word as You Go The prayers you offer this week have been heard, not by a distant judge tallying your performance, but by the faithful One who guards what you’ve entrusted to him. As you return to the rhythms of your days, remember that faith the size of a mustard seed is enough. You don’t need more eloquence or more certainty; you need only to keep talking with him. He meets you in the ordinary, transforms your appointments into his purposes, and walks with you through whatever lies ahead. Go in his grace. Based on Psalm 53
Opening Scripture The fool says in his heart, “There is no God.” They are corrupt, doing abominable iniquity; there is none who does good. God looks down from heaven on the children of man to see if there are any who understand, who seek after God. (Psalm 53:1-2) Where We Are in the Story We’re still in Epiphany, the season when the light of Christ breaks into the darkness. We’ve watched the Magi seek the King, sat with Jesus at the well in Samaria, and reflected on the church as the city of God. The pattern has been consistent: God’s Kingdom is advancing, his presence is being revealed, and people are confronted with a choice, will they seek him or reject him? Today, Psalm 53 presses that choice to its starkest conclusion. It divides humanity into two categories: those who seek God and those who live as if he doesn’t exist. And it forces us to ask: Which side of that line are we actually on? The Anatomy of Folly “The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God.’” Notice what David doesn’t say. He doesn’t say the fool argues philosophically that God doesn’t exist. He doesn’t say the fool has examined all the evidence and concluded there’s insufficient proof. The fool doesn’t arrive at atheism through careful reasoning. The fool says in his heart there is no God. This isn’t intellectual. It’s moral. It’s volitional. It’s a decision, not a conclusion. The fool doesn’t deny God’s existence because of a lack of evidence. Creation itself declares the glory of God (Psalm 19:1). The heavens proclaim his handiwork. The complexity of a single cell, the precision of physical laws, the existence of conscience, all of it points to a Creator. No, the fool denies God because acknowledging God would require submission. And submission is intolerable to the autonomous self. If there is no God, then I’m accountable to no one. I set my own rules. I define my own meaning. I’m the master of my fate, the captain of my soul. The fool doesn’t lack information. The fool lacks humility. Practical Atheism But here’s where it gets uncomfortable for us. You don’t have to be an outspoken atheist to live as a practical atheist. You don’t have to deny God’s existence to function as if he doesn’t matter. Practical atheism is when you believe in God on Sunday but live like he’s irrelevant on Monday. It’s when you affirm orthodox theology but organize your life around wealth, comfort, approval, and security. It’s when you pray when it’s convenient but make decisions as if you’re on your own. Practical atheism looks like this:
This is what the fool does. Not the village atheist ranting on social media. The churchgoer who nods along with sermons but never lets the truth reshape how he spends his time, his money, his energy, his influence. God Looks Down David says, “God looks down from heaven on the children of man to see if there are any who understand, who seek after God.” God isn’t passive. He’s not disinterested. He’s searching. Looking. Seeking those who seek him. (See Tuesday’s devotion on the restless heart and the Hound of Heaven.) And what does he find? “They have all fallen away; together they have become corrupt; there is none who does good, not even one” (Psalm 53:3). This is the doctrine of total depravity in a single verse. Left to ourselves, we don’t seek God. We run from him. We suppress the truth. We fashion idols, gods we can manage, gods who don’t interfere, gods who bless our plans without challenging our autonomy. Paul quotes this psalm in Romans 3, building the case that all humanity stands guilty before God. Jew and Gentile alike. Religious and irreligious. Moral and immoral. All have sinned. All fall short. None are righteous. And yet, and here’s where grace comes in, God still seeks. He doesn’t give up. He doesn’t walk away. In Epiphany, we celebrate that God entered his creation to redeem it. The Word became flesh and dwelt among us. Jesus came to seek and save the lost. The question is: Are we among those who respond? Terror Without Cause David describes what happens to those who persist in folly: “There they are, in great terror, where there is no terror!” (Psalm 53:5). The fool lives in constant anxiety. Why? Because a life built on the denial of God is a life built on sand. It has no foundation. No ultimate meaning. No secure hope. No transcendent purpose. If there is no God, then:
This is at least one reason why our culture is battling anxiety, depression, and despair. We’ve embraced practical atheism. We’ve organized society as if God doesn’t matter. And we’re shocked that people are anxious, lonely, and purposeless. C.S. Lewis puts it this way in The Abolition of Man, “In a sort of ghastly simplicity we remove the organ and demand the function. We make men without chests and expect of them virtue and enterprise. We laugh at honor and are shocked to find traitors in our midst. We castrate and bid the geldings be fruitful.” The fool is terrified because he has no refuge. No rock. No fortress. But the one who seeks God? “God is the strength of his people...the stronghold of his salvation” (Psalm 53:6). Oh, That Salvation Would Come David ends with a longing: “Oh, that salvation for Israel would come out of Zion!” (Psalm 53:6). He’s looking forward. Waiting. Hoping for the day when God will restore his people, when he will scatter the bones of those who encamp against them, when he will vindicate the righteous and judge the wicked. And for us, living after the resurrection, we know the answer to David’s prayer. Salvation has come out of Zion. Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of David, born in Bethlehem, crucified outside Jerusalem, raised from the dead, he is the salvation David longed for. The folly of denying God has been answered by the wisdom of God displayed in Christ crucified. The corruption of humanity has been met by the righteousness of the God-man who lived the life we couldn’t live and died the death we deserved. The terror of a godless existence has been replaced by the peace that surpasses understanding, the peace of knowing that we belong to the God who made us, redeemed us, and will never let us go. The Choice Before Us So here’s the Epiphany question for today: Are you seeking God, or are you living as a practical atheist? Not what you believe in theory. What does your calendar say? Your bank account? Your thought life? Your relationships? Your ambitions? If someone examined your life for a week, where you spend your time, what you consume, how you make decisions, would they conclude that you’re seeking God, or would they see the functional atheism that marks so much of Western Christianity? This isn’t about perfection. It’s about trajectory. Are you moving toward God or away from him? Are you submitting more of your life to his lordship, or are you carving out more territory where he’s not allowed to interfere? David says God is looking. Searching. Seeking those who seek him. The question is: Will he find you? Reflection Questions
Prayer (Based on Psalm 53 and Psalm 14:2) Lord, you look down from Heaven to see if there are any who understand, who seek after you. Search me, O God. Show me where I’ve been living as a practical atheist, affirming you with my lips but denying you with my life. Forgive me for the ways I’ve organized my days as if you don’t matter, made decisions as if you’re not watching, and pursued my own autonomy instead of your lordship. I don’t want to be a fool. I want to be among those who seek you, who trust you, who find their refuge in you. Break my pride. Humble my heart. And teach me to live every moment under your gaze, accountable to you, dependent on you, delighting in you. In Jesus’ name, Amen. Action Step Today, conduct a brief “practical atheism audit.” Choose one area of your life (finances, schedule, entertainment, relationships) and ask: Does this area reflect that I’m seeking God, or does it reveal functional atheism? Identify one specific change you need to make this week to bring that area under God’s lordship. Don’t try to fix everything at once. Just take one step of obedience. Benediction (Based on Psalm 46:1 and Hebrews 13:5-6) The Lord is your refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. He has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” So you can confidently say, “The Lord is my helper; I will not fear.” Go in peace, and live this day as one who seeks the God who seeks you.  The Search for Meaning
A couple of years ago, I watched a series on Netflix and a movie on Amazon in which the protagonist in each was an atheist - depressed, lonely, snarky, and absolutely interesting, but desperately looking for… longing for… meaning. It was sort of sad to observe the writers’ attempts to guide their characters in their pursuit for meaning in a life without God. I had a heavy heart as I reflected on how their efforts, no matter how well put together the stories were, couldn’t ultimately anchor their characters in anything permanent. They each had a longing no temporal solution could ultimately fill, though both sought an optimistic ending. One did better than the other in moving Godward. In this life there’s always hope. The longing for meaning is a universal human experience. It’s wired into us. Ecclesiastes 3:11 tells us, “He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man’s heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.” Our hearts are wired for eternity; we have a God-given awareness that there is more to life than what we see. When Meaning Is Untethered Here’s what I’ve noticed: when people seek to fill this void with anything but God, the results aren’t always despair, though that can certainly happen. More often, meaning becomes relative at best. It’s transient. It’s not built upon anything more solid than preference in the moment. Therefore, it can be tossed to and fro, as Paul says, with every wave of emotion, or thought, or external influence. It’s not tethered. Or to change metaphors, it’s not anchored in something permanent. The protagonists I watched illustrated this perfectly. Despite their intriguing personalities and clever dialogue, they kept grasping at things that couldn’t hold them steady. Relationships. Achievement. Self-actualization. Each pursuit offered temporary satisfaction but no lasting moorage. Living Water In John 4, we encounter the Samaritan woman at the well. She was searching for meaning in relationships and found herself repeatedly disappointed. Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (John 4:13-14). Here, Jesus identifies himself as the only source of true and lasting fulfillment. Not just emotional satisfaction for a season, but deep, soul-level anchoring that holds through every storm. Made for Another World C.S. Lewis famously wrote, “If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.” Lewis himself knew something about this relentless divine pursuit. In Surprised by Joy, he describes his conversion by saying he was “the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England,” brought to faith by what Francis Thompson called “the Hound of Heaven.” Thompson’s poem captures this beautifully: I fled Him, down the nights and down the days; I fled Him, down the arches of the years; I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears I hid from Him, and under running laughter. And yet the poem continues with God’s tender pursuit: All which I took from thee I did but take, Not for thy harms, But just that thou might’st seek it in My arms. Lewis picked up on this imagery, describing God as “the transcendental Interferer,” the Hound of Heaven who pursues us even when we’re running the other direction. This is the hope I saw flickering in those stories I watched, God’s prevenient grace, going before us, ever-chasing, ever-beckoning us to come to him. You Were Made for This St. Augustine prayed at the beginning of his Confessions, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.” That restlessness isn’t a design flaw. It’s a homing beacon. It’s meant to drive us toward the only One who can satisfy. The stories I watched were reminders of what happens when we seek meaning apart from God, not always despair, but always instability and impermanence. Meaning untethered from the eternal is like a boat without an anchor, drifting with whatever current happens by. But they also highlighted a vital Christian truth: there is always hope in this life because God’s call is ever-present. His grace goes before us. Even when we’re running, he’s pursuing. Even when we’re seeking satisfaction in dry wells, he’s offering living water. The question isn’t whether you have a longing for meaning. You do. We all do. The question is: where are you seeking to satisfy that longing? Questions for Reflection
Prayer Gracious God, you have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you. Forgive us for the times we’ve sought satisfaction in things that cannot hold us, for anchoring our hopes in temporal things rather than in your eternal love. Thank you that you are the Hound of Heaven, pursuing us even when we run, offering us living water even when we’re digging dry wells. Help us to recognize the deep longing within us as your invitation, a call to come home to you. Give us courage to redirect our search for meaning toward Christ alone, and grant us grace to share this hope with those around us who are still searching. May we rest in you and find the fulfillment our souls were made for. In Christ we pray. Amen. |
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