The cross looks like nonsense to a watching world, yet it is the heartbeat of the gospel. Ray Stedman reminds us that Paul does not begin with a philosophy seminar, he starts with a bloody hill and a real crucifixion in real time. In a culture that prizes clever solutions and polished resumes, the cross slices through our self-confidence. It tells the truth about human righteousness, then opens a door to the life of Jesus in ordinary people who trust Him.

In Jesus’ parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector, we are shown two ways of standing before God. One inflates the self with comparisons and religious scorekeeping. The other bows low, looking away from self to God’s mercy. Bob Hoekstra highlights the Lord’s steady theme, everyone who lifts himself up will be brought low, and the one who humbles himself will be lifted by God. Today we are invited to trade the weight of self-promotion for the lightness of honest humility.

T. Austin-Sparks points us to the heart of growth in Jesus. Not a life dressed up from the outside with rites and routines, but a life renewed from the inside where the Spirit lives. He reminds us that God lovingly dismantles illusions so that truth can take root within. It is not cruelty. It is careful mercy.

The Song of Songs names the little foxes that ruin the vineyard while the vines are in bloom. A. B. Simpson’s reflection points us to those small anxieties that slip under the fence and nibble away at peace. We may nod our heads about Jesus and salvation, yet allow a single worry to scratch the mirror of rest. The issue is not how loud the noise is outside, but whose life is ruling within.

When the disciples could not free a suffering boy, Jesus pointed them to prayer, not as a last resort, but as the inner posture that keeps us joined to Him. Oswald Chambers presses this home. Real ministry is not us doing things for God. Real ministry is Jesus expressing His life through those who are abiding in Him. When the center is communion, the fruit is power with tenderness. When the center is self-effort, the result is noise without life.

Position before condition. That is the gracious center of today’s reading. Miles J. Stanford reminds us that the Father has placed us into Jesus, and in Him our standing is complete, secure, and unalterable. From that settled place, daily growth unfolds. We are not trying to climb into favor. We are learning to live from favor already given in the Beloved.

Paul writes, “the fruit (singular) of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control” (Gal 5:22–23). The grammar matters. Paul doesn’t hand us nine separate projects; he names one fruit—Christ’s life—that shows up in many qualities.

Paul says we are rooted and built up in Him, established in the faith, abounding in thanksgiving. Dr. E. Stanley Jones slows us down to notice the two sides in that little phrase. Rooted points to receiving. Built up points to activity. The life of abiding in Jesus holds both together without tension. We draw from His life, then we step forward in that life.

Colossians says, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so live in Him. Dr. E. Stanley Jones lingers on that simple line and makes it wonderfully clear. We began by receiving, so we continue by receiving. We met Jesus with surrender and receptivity, so we walk with Jesus the same way, not with clenched teeth, but with open hands. This is not passivity. This is trusting dependence that expects the Lord to be Himself in us.

Paul rejoiced to see the church walking in good order and in the firmness of faith in Jesus. E. Stanley Jones helps us see why those always travel together. When faith rests in the Son, life finds a center that can carry its weight. Where trust drifts to other anchors, disorder shows up in surprising places. Not as punishment, but as the natural outcome of trying to hold life together by ourselves.

Paul says that in Jesus are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. Dr. E. Stanley Jones takes us by the hand and shows how this is both hidden and revealed. We know, and we do not know. We see, and we do not see. Not to frustrate us, but to invite us. Life in Jesus becomes a glad discovery, a steady unveiling that never runs dry.

Thomas blurted out what his eyes finally saw, my Lord and my God. Today’s reading lingers there, reminding us that Jesus is wonderfully near to our humanity in all things but sin. He grew, worked, wept, prayed, and loved. He was tempted in every respect as we are, yet without sin. He receives people others keep at arm’s length, and His presence is not fragile around brokenness. Like clear water entering a stagnant place, His life purifies rather than getting polluted.

God’s way often moves through paradox. Today’s reading reminds us that real growth often arrives through places we would never pick. Circumstances press, reactions surface, and the Spirit uses it all to show us that the Christian life is not I, but Jesus. That line from Miles Stanford lands gently yet clearly. The issue is not people, places, or problems. The issue is the self-life reacting apart from dependence. The Spirit is not out to shame us. He is rescuing us from running on our own.

God has spoken in many ways in the past. In these days He speaks in one way, in His Son. That is the heart of today’s reading. Brother T. Austin-Sparks points our eyes to Jesus as the single, complete Word from the Father. If we want to know the Father’s mind, we look to Jesus. If we want to know how the Father moves toward us, we look to Jesus. If we want to understand our calling together as His people, again, we look to Jesus.

Unity in the church matters because Jesus has already made us one in Himself. Ray Stedman reminds us that the ground of our togetherness is not a brand, a style, or a personality, it is the name of Jesus. We share His life. We belong to one Lord. That is why division cuts so deeply, it disagrees with who we already are in Him.

We chase greatness in so many ways, yet Jesus draws a small child into the circle and says, this is the picture. The way up in My kingdom is down. The door is low, so we stoop to enter. That is not a put down of your worth, it is an embrace of reality, God is great, and we thrive when we take the child’s place with Him.

God told Israel that the Levites would not receive a slice of land, they would receive Him. Joshua 13:33 says that the Lord Himself was their inheritance. That picture steadies my heart today. It is one thing to receive many good things from the Lord. It is another to discover that the Lord Jesus is the thing, our portion, our life, our peace. Thank you, A. B. Simpson, for stirring this reminder that the Christian life is not mainly about getting more from Christ, it is about living from Christ who is within.

Most of us love the mountaintop. It looks clear. It sounds inspiring. It feels like faith should always be that bright. Oswald Chambers reminds us that real life with Jesus is proved in the valley. After vision comes a hallway of ordinary tasks. After applause comes a sink full of dishes. The Lord who met us on the height goes with us into the humbling place where faith is not a story we tell, but a life He lives through us.

Affliction is never wasted in the hands of the Father of mercies. Miles Stanford reminds us that suffering is not a detour from life in Jesus, it is often the place where we discover more of the Father’s heart, the nearness of the Spirit, and the steady life of Jesus within us. Some saints even look back on long seasons of weakness as gain, since they came to know the Lord’s tenderness and the love of His people in richer ways than ease could ever provide.

We often feel the tug to manage everything, to shoulder every expectation, and to prove ourselves useful to God. Then we reach Matthew 11:28-30 and hear Jesus invite us to come, to take His yoke, and to find rest. Witness Lee’s insight helped me slow down today. He explains that the Lord’s yoke is not an extra layer of demands. It is the Father’s will carried with Jesus, not for Jesus. Rest is not a nap from responsibility. It is the peace and satisfaction of walking in step with the Son who already pleased the Father.