From Matthew 5: Light-Shining Lives

“No one lights a lamp and puts it under a basket, but rather on a lampstand, and it gives light for all who are in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” (vv. 15-16)

One caveat before I say anything else:

Our lives, lived in Christ, must be evangelistic. As in, there must be evangelism—the proclamation of the Good News by which we are saved. That is a words-dependent calling. There is no version of the Great Commission that ellipts speaking the Gospel.

That said…

…remember that your lived life is evangelistic, too.

Remember that the way you live and move and serve—the way you share and bless and welcome—is light in darkness. If you take everything you know, by grace through the Spirit, and merely keep it as knowledge, that dark is only dispelled in your own mind. It is the act of living it that shines.

So don’t cover up your lamp with endless theory! Uncover it, so that your rightly theological life might shed light on your neighbors. Radiate these specific callings—purity and mercy and generosity and integrity and love—so that the Message you bring will be thoroughly illuminated.

It can’t come down to just behavior. The Gospel is a message.

But let your light-shining life make the Message all the clearer.

— Tyler

From Matthew 4: The Test

“Then the devil took him to the holy city, had him stand on the pinnacle of the temple, and said to him, ‘If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down. For it is written: ‘He will give his angels orders concerning you, and they will support you with their hands so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’” (vv. 5-6)

It is, I think, the overlooked temptation.

We know the enemy will tempt us to satisfy ourselves, to lean on bread instead of the One who gives it. And we know he will tempt us with the stuff of earth, a panorama of worldly successes and possessions.

But we look past the other one.

Maybe we shouldn’t.

I mean, how often do we throw ourselves down from the heights of election by grace? How often do we sin, fully convinced that the grace of God will cover us? How many times do we behave dangerously, spend unwisely, or worship halfheartedly—all willfully, all with a confidence that mercy still works in the aftermath?

How often do we put God to the test?

That’s the overlooked temptation. See, then, the Lord’s example—and follow Him! Instead of pre-approving your foolishness with grace’s underwriting, reject foolishness for a life that reflects what grace had already done in you. Don’t let the popular theology of “God’s got this” translate into spiritual, physical, or financial carelessness.

In other words, don’t put God to the test.

— Tyler

From Matthew 3: Straight Paths

“For he is the one spoken of through the prophet Isaiah, who said: ‘A voice of one crying out in the wilderness: Prepare the way for the Lord; make his paths straight!’” (v. 3)

It’s a detail we remember readily:

John, who baptizes, arrives as the one Isaiah expected. He is a voice from the wilderness, crying out as the Messiah’s herald.

And his message is this:

“Make straight the path!”

So…what in the world does that mean?

Consider the context: We meet John in the Jordan where he is baptizing. Specifically, it is a baptism for repentance, and it is accompanied by a confession of personal sin. That’s the messenger’s ministry.

So how do we, who hear his voice crying out, make straight paths for the Messiah?

Repent. Confess sin and turn around from it. Live as one who has left it behind. Worship, pursue purity, and produce fruit. And keep looking to the One who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.

The straight path for the Messiah runs through changed hearts. By grace, He makes you new. By conviction, you tend the way.

— Tyler

From Matthew 2: Signposts of Joy

“When they saw the star, they were overwhelmed with joy.” (v. 10)

I want you to give especial attention to what causes the wise men’s joy.

I think that we think that what sparks their joy is seeing the Child. And, of course, it is obvious by their worship that the baby Jesus overjoys them.

But the text explicitly says that it is something else that overwhelms them with joy:

The star.

Here’s what I’m thinking:

It’s not just the object of our worship that cheers us, enlivens us. Sometimes the comforting revelation that we are on the right track sweeps us up into joy.

It’s why, when you return to the worshiping community, you are comforted.

It’s why, when you turn from sin and taste the freer life lived rightly, your spirit brightens.

It’s why, when you open the Word and are pointed home, your heart is settled.

The signposts of an on-track, Jesus-purposed, toward-Him and toward-Home life bring joy on the way. Keep your eyes on them—keep your heart toward Him—and rejoice!

— Tyler

From Matthew 1: Matthew’s Gift to You

“Eliud fathered Eleazar, Eleazar fathered Matthan, Matthan fathered Jacob, and Jacob fathered Joseph the husband of Mary, who gave birth to Jesus who is called the Messiah.” (vv. 15-16)

Just in case you skimmed past it…

…don’t miss Matthew’s gift to you.

If we were to come proclaiming a gospel with no verifiable history, could it really comfort you? Could you build your life on words without historical ground? Would a vague assurance—“it happened back then sometime somehow”—be at all trustworthy?

Of course not.

Which is why Matthew’s genealogical record of Jesus the Christ is a gift!

Jesus didn’t come from nowhere. He was given, as promised, through a people of Promise. We see Him fulfilling expectation and prophecy—but only as they are rooted through a people and a place, in history. And, when you turn your eyes and your analysis back to the Ancient Near East, you find them all there in an infinitude of evidences.

Matthew’s inspired gift to us is the grounding of the Gospel. The point on which all of history turns is still an historical claim!

Let that give you confidence, as you claim Him.

— Tyler

From Revelation 22: Invitation

“Both the Spirit and the bride say, ‘Come!’ Let anyone who hears, say, ‘Come!’ Let the one who is thirsty come. Let the one who desires take the water of life freely.” (v. 17)

Revelation illuminates so much.

It tells us the truth of what is to come. It assures is of the reality of judgment—of human works, but also of the enemy. It points us to the promise of what is to come. And, ultimately, it ties the end to the beginning, because Jesus’ people will know His presence, just as they did in the first garden.

All of that is illuminated in the Revelation.

What’s left?

Invitation!

The Spirit of God still draws people—still draws you—to Jesus. The church, which is Jesus’ bride, urges you toward Him, too. The invitation to drink living water, to find life in Him, and to enter these very gates is still open. We pray it. We offer it. And, by grace through His Spirit, you and your neighbors and the nations can still come.

Illumination leads to invitation.

Jesus is coming soon!

Won’t you come to Him?

— Tyler

From Revelation 21: Fresh Start

“Then the one seated on the throne said, ‘Look, I am making everything new.’ He also said, ‘Write, because these words are faithful and true.’” (v. 5)

Have you ever wanted to start fresh?

Here is the great promise of the eschaton, of the end and the last things:

We are welcomed into a new heaven and a new earth.

The Lord Jesus, who reigns, has already given us new hearts and new life. These are the gifts of grace, received by faith, when we repent and believe here. But, as excellent as those gifts are, they are not the end. In the end, the pages turn, leaving all of the old of the earth behind. The new chapter begins—this time, in a city of enduring purity, where the Father and the Son dwell with the people who are sealed by His Spirit.

Imagine eternity’s fresh start! Imagine worship, unobscured! Imagine the total absence of pain, tears, and death! Imagine living with the redeemed in Jesus’ light, forever!

This is the promise. So imagine it, and believe. He is coming quickly! These words are faithful and true.

— Tyler

From Revelation 20: Two Books

“I also saw the dead, the great and the small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Another book was opened, which is the book of life, and the dead were judged according to their works by what was written in the books.” (v. 12)

When we get to the end, in Revelation 20, we tend to jump down to v. 15. We are (perhaps rightly) preoccupied with the Book of Life. We have hoped—and, in Christ, we are assured—that our names have been inscribed there since before the beginning. That’s the grace of the Gospel and of election, and we cling to it.

But don’t miss the fact that that Book is clarified by another:

Among the texts opened at the judgment, there is also a Book of the Dead. It’s where you’ll find the names of…well…those who are dead. As in, not raised to life in Jesus by the Spirit.

And it contains an awful record: all of the sinful works of every person’s life. That’s what is read at the judgment seat. It’s their permanent record—and they will each be judged on the merit of their works.

Can you sense how glorious the mercy of the Book of Life is? Instead of having all your sins remembered by the other book and read at your judgment, your name is read elsewhere. It’s in a Book that doesn’t recount your works, but Jesus’ work for you, with your grace-bought name filed under His record.

At the end of all things, it’s a tale of two records. Let the awfulness of one stir your gratitude for the other.

— Tyler

From Revelation 19: He Is Our Peace

“Then I saw heaven opened, and there was a white horse. Its rider is called Faithful and True, and with justice he judges and makes war.” (v. 11)

Jesus is, in every way, our peace.

In these days, He is our peace, because He has freed us from sin and guilt and shame. Judgment fell on Him, at His cross—a judgment that was rightfully ours yet graciously removed. Because of Jesus’ atoning work in history, and because of the pure grace-gift given to those He has called, we know peace.

And, on that Day, He is peace all over again. When He returns, the judgment owed the earth is in His hands, and He rightly executes it. All the proud raging of an unrepentant world is settled, finally. There will be no more wickedness, no more rejection, and no more deceit. Those things will be judged and removed—and peace will remain.

The One who took the cross—and the One who rides in on the horse—is our peace.

Look to Him. And look for His coming.

— Tyler

From Revelation 18: Assured Emptiness

“The fruit you craved has left you. All your splendid and glamorous things are gone; they will never find them again.” (v. 14)

The warning seems like a thing that is far off.

In the Judgment, the sinful cravings of the world are cast down, and they come to nothing. The powers that peddled them are desolated. In the end, all they leave is emptiness and regret.

It’s a warning, pointing the whole world to what is assured, when Revelation is fully unfolded.

But is the warning only about them then?

Or are we not similarly warned, regardless of whether ours are the last days, or simply more days on the way? Is it not just as relevant to us—and to our neighbors?

If we hand our hearts over to lusts and greeds and idolatries and immoralities, we won’t have to wait for that day. We will know emptiness now. We will grieve imminently. We will see all those things come to nothing—and we will wonder why we gave so much of our lives to them, for them. The day might be when some quantity of them have slipped through your fingers. It might be when your relationships crater, with covenants broken (or perhaps never known). It might be on your deathbed, when the vanity of things and the elevation of self are utterly exposed for their fruitlessness. But these are judged now, too.

Be warned now, for their emptiness is assured.

— Tyler

From Revelation 17: Two Things We Know

“These have one purpose, and they give their power and authority to the beast. These will make war against the Lamb, but the Lamb will conquer them because he is Lord of Lords and King of kings. Those with him are called, chosen, and faithful.” (vv. 13-14)

I won’t pretend to have a ready, accessible, expectable interpretation of these chapters. The imagery is rich and complex. Their reality in days that are “not yet” is hard for us to guess.

So let’s stick to what we know.

First, we know that the powers of the earth—kings and kingdoms and authorities and principalities—are ultimately bent one way. It’s not that every ruler in every nation serves the enemy, but that there will undoubtedly be some that do. We can name some truly demonic forces that have been. We anticipate more. Which means—and it’s assured in God’s Word—we anticipate the war.

Second, Jesus wins.

Isn’t that simple truth—the Lamb conquers!—enough to secure you? To steady your heart (and, I pray, your head) as the world erupts? You’re not wrong to theologize the world’s political stage. But shouldn’t this truth give you an ultimately comforting perspective?

The revelational reality of powers and principalities at war with Jesus is unfailingly true. It’s promised. Thank God that, all the more, Jesus’ victory is promised, too.

— Tyler

From Revelation 16: Just

“I heard the altar say, Yes, Lord God, the Almighty, true and just are your judgments.” (v. 7)

Revelation 16 is hard reading.

It’s not complicated: The Word gives us a picture of God’s final judgment, which is prepared for the end. And, tragically, those who remain subject to it persist—in their sin, in the rebellion, and in their blasphemy. It’s not a complicated passage.

But it is hard.

It’s OK for your heart to break over this. In fact, that’s the right response! And it ought to compel us to press on in evangelism, so that our families and our neighbors and the nations might yet repent, by grace.

However this strikes you, or however it challenges you, be comforted by the testimony from heaven here:

When we think on Holy God, remember that His judgments are true, faithful, and consistent. They are the very definition of just.

And, if He is as faithful and true in judgment, how much more faithful and true will He be to His Son—and to this Gospel!

— Tyler

From Revelation 15: Harps

“I also saw something like a sea of glass mixed with fire, and those who had won the victory over the beast, its image, and the number of its name, were standing on the sea of glass with harps from God.” (v. 2)

Did you know that the harps are actually biblical?

We’ve got some pretty tweaked views of heaven—and of the reality of ultimate worship. And you probably know the image that comes to mind most frequently: heaven’s people are floating on clouds, wearing bathrobes and strumming harps.

You already knew that that is ridiculous.

But maybe you didn’t know that the harps are actually in the Bible!

Revelation 15 gives us a picture—another sign or symbol—of God’s prepared wrath. It is ready to be poured out from heaven. And, while the angels stand ready and God’s glory fills His sanctuary, those people who have kept faith in Him worship.

How do they worship? In song, singing of the One who is worthy, whose acts are awesome and whose way is holy.

And what are they given? Harps!

Here’s an invitation for today: Live into this picture. You are persevering in faith, though the world would lure you into every kind of blasphemy. You know the holiness and justice and truth and mercy of God, in Christ. You—and your brothers and sisters, the church—are worshiping in a world that is bound for judgment.

So sing to Him! Sing of Him! Take up a harp and join the song. Worship as one who is saved—and give Him glory before the end.

— Tyler

From Revelation 14: The Warnings

“This calls for endurance from the saints, who keep God’s commands and their faith in Jesus.” (v. 12)

It’s an important sequence:

Three angels, at the end of everything, depart heaven with tidings.

The first declares the “eternal gospel” over the earth: “Worship the worthy One, for judgment is coming and has come.”

The second sets the boundary: “If you are unrepentant—specifically of sexual immorality and all its forms—you won’t escape the judgment.”

And the third opens our eyes: “Actually, if you have gone after the world and given antichrists your heart, you’ll drink the judgment, too.”

(Curiously, the sexual immorality part can also be rendered as “passionate immorality,” which is what you find when you follow your deceitful heart.)

What, then, is the conclusion for God’s people?

Stay true! Guard your repentant morality! Worship the Lord—faithfully and convictionally and enduringly!

It’s so much easier to slide—but it’s a slide toward spiritual oblivion. I know we lean on grace—and we have to, because the grace of God in Christ is our only salvation—but we cannot let grace be our excuse for willful waywardness. You are called, in Him, to sanctification.

So hear the truth. Heed the warning. And worship rightly.

— Tyler

From Revelation 13: Worship Tells the Truth

“All those who live on the earth will worship it, everyone whose name was not written from the foundation of the world in the book of life of the Lamb who was slaughtered.” (v. 8)

Here’s a helpful shorthand:

Worship tells the truth.

It is hardly a novel realization: Everyone worships something. We are wired for it. And, though we might wish for unity on the matter, the reality is that there are a lot of “somethings” that capture the hearts of the world.

Worship tells the truth.

Translation: We’ll know whose you are—and whose you aren’t—based on your life of worship.

If we only know you by your politics, it tells us something. If we only know which fanbase you belong to, it tells us something. If we can file your name under any number of personalities or movements or trends on the earth, it tells us the truth.

Those who are genuinely God’s, by grace, will worship Him—even as options on the earth multiply, and even as they grow in popular allure. And, if you’re wrapped up in worldly worship, it’ll be hard to make the case that you’re actually His. Worship tells us the truth.

We don’t have to wonder too hard about Revelation’s beasts to get the point here and now.

What does your worship life tell us today?

— Tyler

From Revelation 12: The Enemy Knows

“Therefore rejoice, you heavens, and you who dwell in them! Woe to the earth and the sea, because the devil has come down to you with great fury, because he knows his time is short.” (v. 12)

It’s important to note what is actually going on in this section of Revelation:

We are told that these depictions—the woman and the Son and the dragon—are featured in a “great sign.” It’s a symbolic retelling, a revelation of heaven’s point of view, of the drama of the Gospel. We slide out of prophetic apocalypse and into contextualization.

This helps us “get” what has been and what will be.

Let’s pick up one thread:

The dragon.

You know who this is. The Word tells us: he is the enemy and the devil and the accuser. And, from the start, he is defeated.

But he isn’t quite done, is he?

In fact, he’s in a rage. He’s furious about his eviction from heaven, about the birth of the Son, and about the defeat that is promised. And he unfolds that fury on the earth, lying and stealing and killing and destroying.

He knows his time is short—so he makes the most of it, on the way to Revelation.

It’s good news and bad news. The sign reminds us that he loses, and soon. But it also assures us that he will thrash after you with the time he’s got.

See the enemy in the sign, and stay on guard.

— Tyler

From Revelation 11: Short-lived Celebration

“Those who live on the earth will gloat over them and celebrate and send gifts to one another because these two prophets had tormented those who live on the earth.” (v. 10)

Yes, we are looking ahead here, as the Spirit gives us a glimpse of what is to come.

But let’s be honest:

It applies to today.

Take, for example, the martyrdom of God’s witnesses. The Revelation reveals two such witnesses, who prophesy in the last days, whose downfall is public and violent and tragic. And—here’s the key—the whole world gloats about it. They celebrate it. They make it a holiday.

It is, of course, a short-sighted and short-lived celebration. God raises His servants to life and to heaven—as judgment unfolds on the earth.

Now consider today:

Whenever believers stumble or churches struggle, more than a few folks celebrate. There are entire websites dedicated to celebrating the failures of pastors and ministry leaders. This is not to say that we defend a stumbler’s sin. It is simply to point out that the wider world already loves to gloat when Christians fall.

But it’s a short-lived celebration. We believe in the miracle of grace for the repentant. We also believe that, while martyrs and stumblers can both be raised by Him, mockers will come to judgment. Gloating today is tragedy in the end.

So keep looking forward. But don’t be afraid to see now a little bit of what is not yet.

— Tyler

From Revelation 10: The Sweet and the Bitter

“Then I took the little scroll from the angel’s hand and ate it. It was as sweet as honey in my mouth, but when I ate it, my stomach became bitter. And they said to me, ‘You must prophesy again about many peoples, nations, languages, and kings.’” (vv. 10-11)

Think about the “little scroll”—given to the prophet, by the angel, with an instruction to eat it.

He is told that it will be sweet in his mouth. And it is!

Then he is told…that it won’t sit well. That it will make his stomach bitter. And it does!

It’s an odd moment, made clear by the angel’s concluding remark: he tells the revelator that he must yet prophesy to peoples and nations and kings.

You see, the truth of Revelation—of God’s judgment, of Christ’s return, and of the end of this earth—is actually sweet to the believer. We are comforted by the Lamb’s mercies. We are relieved by the realization that what has been promised is, in fact, so. We are captivated by the picture of rescue, of rapture, and of heaven. It’s sweet.

But, in the days before the final trumpet sounds, it doesn’t always sit well.

Christ’s people are called to be witnesses—but they won’t always be welcomed. We’ll be reviled, persecuted, even attacked. We will hope higher for our hearers than they might hope themselves. Our hearts will break when many choose darkness over the Light.

I look at the world, at those who might miss Jesus all the way to the end, and I feel that, right in my middle. What is sweet to me doesn’t always sit well.

— Tyler

From Revelation 9: The Horror of Hardness

“The rest of the people, who were not killed by these plagues, did not repent of the works of their hands to stop worshiping demons and idols of gold, silver, bronze, stone, and wood, which cannot see, hear, or walk. And they did not repent of their murders, their sorceries, their sexual immorality, or their thefts.” (vv. 20-21)

The harshest reality we face, evangelistically, is the hardness of human hearts.

There are some—in fact there are many—who remain utterly hardened against the Gospel. They reject their Creator. They spurn Christ. They, by counting the truth as a lie, blaspheme the Holy Spirit.

And that’s really hard for us to get.

Please know that their rejection is not of you or your church or your invitation. Their rejection is of Holy God. And, if someone is wholly in love with darkness rather than light, there is no message or sign or ministry that will convince them otherwise.

Revelation 9 ends with a horrifying picture: As judgment unfolds—as death and destruction rend the earth—there are many who still refuse repentance. They cling to their idols. They sit put in their sin. They know, by then, what all of that earns. They simply keep choosing it.

Like I said, it’s horrifying. But it is also clarifying: Like them, so many today choose the same.

Grieve that, and don’t give up—but also know that salvation belongs to the Lord, and there are (and will be) many who deny Him to the end.

— Tyler

From Revelation 8: It gets worse (but not for you)

“I looked and heard an eagle flying high overhead, crying out in a loud voice, ‘Woe! Woe! Woe to those who live on the earth, because of the remaining trumpet blasts that the three angels are about to sound!’” (v. 13)

Yes, it gets worse.

But not for you.

When we read John’s Spirit-given vision of the eschaton—the end—we are struck. The awfulness of the unmaking of the earth is, in fact, striking. Judgment comes. Nature is undone. Death follows.

And that’s just the first four trumpet blasts!

Each promise, as it unfolds, seems worse and worse for the world—and still worse is coming.

But, if that frightens you, please know:

You won’t be there.

(I mean, probably. I’m about to cut through generations of theological debate here. You may disagree. But this reading is, I believe, sound.)

Because…where is the believing church when all this happens?

Already around the throne! Rescued, raptured, and relieved. How else do we explain the great multitude suddenly appearing in the vision in Revelation 7?

Let that comfort you. Let it also spur you evangelistically, so that your family and friends and neighbors might be awakened to faith—and spared the worse and worse.

It will get worse. Just not for you.

— Tyler