Daily Readings for April 14 – 20

Fellow travelers:

Here is the list of readings for this week.  Each week I will post 2 chapters to read per day as the main reading plan, and for anyone who wants to read the whole Bible in 2025, I post the extra chapters needed for that goal.  Reading 3 chapters a day on weekdays and 4 on weekends almost exactly covers the 1,189 chapters of the Bible, so the “extra” readings are about 9 chapters per week.

Follow along (or not) any way you choose!

Monday, April 14: Psalm 104, Exodus 26
Tuesday, April 15: Psalm 105, Exodus 27
Wednesday, April 16: Psalm 106, Exodus 28
Thursday, April 17: Psalm 107, Exodus 29
Friday, April 18: Psalm 108, Exodus 30
Saturday, April 19: Psalm 109, Exodus 31
Sunday, April 20: Psalm 110, Exodus 32

Additional readings if you want to read the whole Bible this year:
2 Chronicles 3 – 11

Your Family is More Important Than Your Furniture – Songs of Ascent #4

A prominent feature of the culture I live in is the demand that everyone must respect the “individualism” of everyone else.  Pressure to affirm whatever anyone else wants affirmed about them has ballooned all over the news, social media, corporate policy, and even in churches.  There’s an assumption built into this, which is that the sincere ability to love someone can be the result of someone else threatening us to do it.  Exert enough legal, social, cultural, or even physical pressure and someone’s fundamental nature can be changed by coercion.  The coal turns into a diamond.

Tomorrow is Sunday, so today we return to the Songs of Ascent, a liturgy used in ancient Israel to prepare for worship at the annual festivals in Jerusalem.  What does this have to do with the last paragraph?  In Psalm 120, the first Song of Ascent, we read (post here) that no matter where we live, or where we come from, no matter our genealogy, we live among people with “lying lips” who can’t get along with each other.  In Psalm 121, we are encouraged to find the answer outside of our current place:

A Song of Ascents.

I lift up my eyes to the hills.
            From where does my help come?
My help comes from the LORD,
            who made heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot be moved;
            he who keeps you will not slumber.
Behold, he who keeps Israel
            will neither slumber nor sleep.

The LORD is your keeper;
            the LORD is your shade on your right hand.
The sun shall not strike you by day,
            nor the moon by night.

The LORD will keep you from all evil;
            he will keep your life.
The LORD will keep
            your going out and your coming in
            from this time forth and forevermore.

The Psalm asks us to take our eyes off of the world around us and look upward for our hope.  Not just talk about the idea of it, but to actually do it.  To turn off the outside world and its circumstances and seek God’s help.  It takes effort because the idea that we can solve our own problems is so powerful.  The fall of Adam and Eve was driven by a curiosity that there may be a better system than the one they already had.  In a literally perfect society, they wanted something else.  If we aren’t intentional about avoiding this trap, it’s easy to not realize we are in it.

We’re All Messed Up
I’ve written much about Tyler Joseph, the songwriter of the band twenty øne piløts, and his campaign to create music and stories that help people deal with mental illness.  In an interview years ago, the interviewer criticized Tyler for calling himself “messed up.”  Was Tyler being too hard on himself?  This was Tyler’s response:

“I know I’m messed up. I think to myself I should be able to control myself.  I look at a lamp and I decide that I’m going to stand up and not hit that lamp. Why can’t I make decisions like that about everything in life. I’m not going to get angry at my brother. I want to be the best brother. Why can’t I do what I want to do? That’s messed up. Something is broken in the way we live. It’s proof that something is not right.”

Tyler is explaining Romans 7:13-21, especially verses 15 and 21, but in a way that’s as plain as day to anyone being honest with themselves.  Romans 7:15 and 21 say: “For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.”  And “So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand.”

What if the problem with every person individually is that they are unable, no matter how much external pressure is put on them, to treat other individuals the way they should be treated? If true, it puts the first paragraph into an entirely different light.

In this exact moment as I write this, I’m being very careful not to spill my drink on my laptop.  I have no desire to do anything violent to the couch I’m sitting on but just to enjoy having a place to sit.  If I stop writing to check something on my phone, I make sure I put it down gently in a spot where it won’t fall off and hit the floor.  But at the same time, I know I don’t always treat people with the same respect.  I know if I’m interrupted in the middle of what I think is a great thought or phrase I could get irritated and rude.  Not always, but I could.  I know I could be a better son, husband, father, employee, and friend.  So why don’t I?

Why do we treat our furniture better than our family, even in a culture that increasingly demands with all its strength that we prioritize every individual?  Because we are broken in a way that no political or economic system, no culture or tradition, can fix.  One may be better or worse than another, but none of them has the power to solve the real problem that we can’t consistently love people more than we love our furniture.  We have to go somewhere else to find the answer.

Therefore,
“I lift up my eyes to the hills.
            From where does my help come?
My help comes from the LORD,
            who made heaven and earth.”

As pilgrims traveling to Jerusalem, the Israelites were telling a story by making the effort to move.  A story that the towns they leave behind – no matter where they are coming from – don’t have the answer to their most important problems.  On the long journey, they travelled in large groups and slowly, sometimes by foot.  They probably had constant reminders of their own inability to treat the family they traveled with better than whatever furniture or baggage they brought along for the trip. While togetherness is sometimes uncomfortable, together we must lift up our eyes and look for the answer outside of everything we know.

We’re broken and can’t fix ourselves, but “The LORD will keep you from all evil; He will keep your life.”  Take some time out of your week and each day to look up to the hills and seek Him.  To set aside everything else.  To focus on the LORD, because He alone loves us in the way we need to be loved and can help us love others the way they need to be loved.  He won’t seek to break you to make you do it, but He Himself was broken to provide us a way.

A Just Reward

Over time, I’ve known Christians who at times, while sure of their faith and salvation, wonder what’s the point of serving God in this world?  Salvation comes through faith, not works, right?  What else is there to gain by Christian service, they ask?  Therefore, it becomes harder to serve.

Others might be diligently serving God, yet don’t see any results from their work.  In their eyes, it may not look like the ones they serve are benefitting.  It may not look like anyone is noticing their service and cares about it.  Maybe their motivation is getting harder to come by.

In situations like these, it helps to be reminded of the justice of God… Justice?  What does that have to do with it?  Let me explain.  Too often we think of God’s justice only in the sense that He cannot help but punish every evil act.  However, the epistle to the Hebrews reminds us that there is another side to God’s justice:

For God is not unjust so as to overlook your work and the love that you have shown for his name in serving the saints, as you still do.” – Hebrews 6:10

This verse tells us that it would be an injustice for God to not reward us for the good that we do.  Through the sacrifice of Christ, God no longer judges us for our sins, but nothing has happened to separate us from the other side of God’s justice!  While not punishing evil would be unjust, so would not rewarding good.

The verse also tells us that God doesn’t “overlook” anything that we do in love, “in serving the saints.”  While we may not see the fruit God is growing through us, or feel we are contributing, or receive recognition for our actions, God knows about it and is not unjust.  While He removes our sin from us “as far as the east is from the west,” (Psalm 103:12) He remembers every act of love we do, as small as sharing a cup of water with a thirsty child (Matthew 10:42).

Photo by Erik Mclean on Unsplash

The Bible isn’t clear about how each person will be rewarded differently in heaven, but it is clear that for everyone heaven will be amazing and wonderful beyond anything we could imagine, and also clear that not everyone will get the same level of reward.  See, for example, the parable of the talents in Matthew 25.

So, what’s the point of serving God in this world if it doesn’t affect our salvation, and if we aren’t seeing any current results?  Why bother?  The point is first, that it’s the right thing to do, but second, that God is just and will reward us in eternity.

As Jesus said in Matthew 6:19-21, “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

Our service on this earth for God is like an investment in the treasures of heaven, and these investments made in love are safer than any investments you can make in this world because the reward is based on God’s character, and God is just.

For God is not unjust so as to overlook your work and the love that you have shown for his name in serving the saints, as you still do.”

The Heavenly Holy of Holies

The temple King Solomon built in Jerusalem was not just as a place of worship and sacrifice, but also an image, or a model, of the cost of sin and of redemption.  The many courts, chambers, and walls were an object lesson in man’s separation from God because of his sin, and the required cost of restoring that relationship.  The most interior part of the temple, and hardest to get to, was the Holy of Holies, a room shaped like a perfect cube: 20 cubits by 20 cubits by 20 cubits.[1]  This cubed space was so sacred, and so holy, that only the high priest could enter it, and only once per year, and only after elaborate sacrifice.

However, by Christ’s sacrifice, we have hope: “We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf.” (Hebrews 6:19-20a).  In Mark’s gospel, we learn that when Christ died on the cross, “the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom.”[2]  This curtain was the barrier covering the entrance to the Holy of Holies, and with Jesus’ death, entrance isn’t limited to just the high priest, but open to all who would believe in Him.  He entered “on our behalf” and anchors us to this most holy destination.

The Bible was not finished drawing this picture, though.  In Revelation 21, a new city – a new Jerusalem – is seen by the apostle John in a vision, coming down from heaven, and verse 16 says: “The city lies foursquare, its length the same as its width. And he measured the city with his rod, 12,000 stadia. Its length and width and height are equal.”  This vision was not meant to tell us that in Paradise we will all live inside a big cube.  As pastor Glenn Parkinson wrote: “Certainly all physical beings must exist somewhere, but this is not a vision of where God’s people will live, but how they will live when the former things have passed away.”[3]

Don’t put Earth in a box. Photo by The New York Public Library on Unsplash

Earlier, Revelation 21:1 referred to a whole new heaven and earth, so the new Jerusalem probably represents something about life everywhere in this new creation, and in this image, God would have used things familiar to John, the author of Revelation, otherwise the visions wouldn’t make sense.  The only other architectural cube John would probably recall from Scripture would be the Holy of Holies, but what does that mean?

I believe it means that all of the new heaven and earth will be inhabitable by both God and His people.  All of Paradise will be holier than even the Holy of Holies, but because the church will be fully sanctified, God’s people can enter His presence without the many temple courts and chambers and walls symbolizing man’s separation from God.  Relationship between Creator and created will be fully restored.  Everywhere will be holy, and everyone will be holy.

No, the New Jerusalem isn’t literally a cube, but it symbolizes that in the new world, the temple is not even needed, because all is as it should be between God and man:

And I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb.” – Revelation 21:22

Praise God Almighty and the Lamb!


[1] 1 Kings 6:20 (a cubit was roughly 18 inches)
[2] Mark 15:38
[3] Parkinson, Glenn.  Tapestry: The Book of Revelation (2015).

Who We Shall Be

The apostle Peter wasn’t always a follower of Jesus.  He also wasn’t always Peter; he was originally named Simon.  He got his new name when his brother Andrew took him to meet Jesus.  Andrew “brought him to Jesus. Jesus looked at him and said, ‘You are Simon the son of John? You shall be called Cephas” (which means Peter).’” (John 1:42).

Photo by Lionel Gustave on Unsplash

Something that stands out in Jesus’ words are the phrases “You are,” and “You shall be.”  It’s as if Jesus saw 2 people: the one Simon was, and Peter that Simon would be.  The Simon of the present and the Peter of the future.  Jesus knew there was work to be done with this Simon who would become His disciple, but He also knew that the work would be completed.  It was inevitable that Simon would become Peter, the rock, which is what the name Peter means.  Cephas also means rock in Aramaic, but Peter is the Greek name we know him by.

But in the meantime, Peter was going to be a work in progress, like all of us.  Jesus sees everyone as they “are” and as they “shall be.”  He sees the raw material and He sees what it will take to finish each competed work of art.  Jesus takes us as we are, begins our transformation there, and will complete it in eternity.

Revelation 2:17 says of believers: “To the one who conquers I will give some of the hidden manna, and I will give him a white stone, with a new name written on the stone that no one knows except the one who receives it.”  This new name represents our future, eternal identity.  The person we will be when God is finished with His work of creation in us, the person Jesus sees in us, but that is beyond our wildest imagination. C.S. Lewis wrote that believers will “one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship.”  This is how completely we will be changed and conformed to the image and likeness of God that He intended for us from the beginning.[1]

So, if you ever feel disappointed in yourself, if you feel unworthy of God’s attention, if you wonder how God could love someone like you, remember: God sees who you “are” and who “you shall be.”  And who “you shall be” is beautiful beyond what we can imagine, but not beyond what He can see.

You are Simon the son of John? You shall be called Cephas” (which means Peter).


[1] Genesis 1:26-27