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A few months ago I taught a summary of the book of Judges. It tells the story of Israel’s failure to be faithful to the covenant as the generation after Joshua seeks to complete the conquest of Canaan. If we’re honest, this is not one of our top ten favorite Bible books to read. It contains some of the darkest episodes in redemptive history. By the end of the book, it seems all of Israel is living in a state of moral chaos with one whole tribe at risk of being exterminated. Are there any faithful Israelites left? The moral character and actions of the last three major judges – Gideon, Jephthah, and Samson – go from sketchy to worse. But flip over to the New Testament and notice who is mentioned in Hebrews 11:32-34:

And what more shall I say? For time would fail me to tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets – who through faith conquered kingdoms, enforced justice, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight.

One of the mistakes we make in Bible reading is expecting every character to be a hero. I remember the time when I realized I was doing that. I had started reading through the Bible again and wasn’t too far along in Genesis before I sensed a real disappointment in the main characters. I had an expectation for them to behave much better than they were. It raised questions for me. Why did Abraham keep lying about Sarah being his sister? Why was Jacob such a schemer and deceiver? And don’t even mention the story of Judah and Tamar in Genesis 38. I read that quickly, trying to ignore my questions in order to get to the story of Joseph.

Judges contains a few stellar examples – Othniel, Achsah and Deborah – but many more that trouble us. Some try to dress up Gideon but he just won’t fit the mold of squeaky clean Bible hero as we get to the end of his life and read of his making an ephod that reminds us too much of the incident with the golden calf. Jephthah shows great courage and faith but makes a tragic vow, trying to manipulate God and as a result his daughter becomes the victim. Samson’s birth story gives us hope but very soon we read of his immoral behavior, his vow breaking, and his vengeance taking.

Back to Hebrews 11. Many have nicknamed this chapter “The Hall of Fame of Faith”. I would like to push back on that. We love famous people in America. We have many kinds of halls of fame; a quick search on Wikipedia blew my mind as to all the kinds that exist – everything from sports to accounting to military intelligence to radio. What do those halls of fame celebrate? They celebrate people and their accomplishments. I think too often we read Hebrews 11 as an honor roll of the people of God. Do you remember honor rolls in school? I do. I loved making the honor roll and even more I loved making the distinguished honor roll. Hebrews 11 may begin like the distinguished honor roll of God’s people. These are the people who were really great. Yes, we know of Abraham and Moses’ weaknesses, but these are pillars. It’s not until we get to Gideon, Jephthah and Samson that we may start asking questions.

These questions are good because, at least for me, they have uncovered another way I read the Bible incorrectly and another instance where I assume a merit based salvation. I want to see every Bible character grow consistently in their faith, maturing from one level to the next until they reach a certain pinnacle of godliness at the end of their lives. Wouldn’t that qualify them for the hall of fame of faith? Isn’t that what perseverance is supposed to look like?

Salvation and sanctification are not an unbroken upward trajectory. Faith is not a performance where we earn a report card. If I judge myself and others based on these mistaken assumptions I make a mockery of what Christ accomplished. He performed on my behalf, earning the righteousness that I never could. His merit is all sufficient.

Hebrews 11 is not the distinguished honor roll of faith. It’s not a hall of fame that exalts the accomplishments of God’s people. The point of Hebrews 11 is to exalt the enduring value of faith, for without it we cannot please God (v. 6). Faith may, and should, result in good deeds, but the essence of faith is not looking ourselves but Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith (see Hebrews 12:1-3). For at its root, faith doesn’t even originate with us, but is a gracious gift of God (see Ephesians 2:8-9).

Each Sunday I read a bit of Samuel Rutherford’s letters. I’ve been doing this for over a year and am just over halfway done. The man was prolific in his letter writing. The two letters I read last Sunday morning were intriguing in the seemingly contrasting advice he gives to two of his friends. They were both written in 1637. He says to the first:

It is time, and high time, for you to think upon death and your accounts, and to remember what ye are, and where ye will be before the year of our Lord 1700. I hope ye are thinking upon this. Pull at your soul, and draw it aside from the company that it is with and round, and whisper into it news of eternity, death, judgment, heaven, and hell.

I don’t know about you, but I have never had a friend write to me and exhort that I think more on my own death. These words from Rutherford seem very strange to our modern ears. The messages of 2026, especially in the new year, are all about denying and defying our own death. But if this life is just a shadow of things to come and our true home is in heaven, shouldn’t we think more about our death and what (and Who!) awaits us in eternity? Some of you may have had a loved one die in 2025. My mother died in August. I thought she had more time. None of us knows how much time we have.

The next letter focuses on Christ’s love and how little we know of it. Rutherford describes his longings like a lover whose only desire is to be closer to his beloved. He knows there are depths beyond his imagination. So he advises his friend:

However matters go, it is our happiness to win new ground daily in Christ’s love, and to purchase a new piece of it daily, and to add conquest to conquest, till our Lord Jesus and we be so near each other, that Satan shall not draw a straw or a thread betwixt us.

To one friend he says to think upon death and eternity. To another he says to strive daily in knowing more of Christ’s love. These two may seem to be at odds, but upon further reflection I see the complementarity. Rutherford’s striving to know more of Christ’s love is impeded by this world and his own sin. It is blocked because he is not yet in Christ’s presence. He has not yet found ultimate rest in his true eternal dwelling place. So to win more of Christ’s love daily is actually a way of preparing us for our death. Drinking more deeply of the sweetness of Christ now will help us turn away from the “dead waters” that the world offers and prepare us for the feast to come when all will be a “banquet of aged wine.” (see Isaiah 25:6) We are closer now in 2026 than we were at this time last year. As you look down the corridor of another new year, place eternity and the consummation of Christ’s love before your eyes. See how it changes your priorities.

I think I’ve written on this psalm at least four times. You can read those here, here, here and here. But the lessons it contains keep coming back, and after I wrote on hope a few Sundays ago, I realized Psalm 131 had more to say about that. Here is another meditative reflection:

Hope is a heart unpuffed,
Eyes undistracted by lofty pursuits.

Rather – Hope is a peaceful trust,
Content in the bosom of the Father,
Hearing His heartbeat,
Aligning its will with His.

Hope has many faces –

Straining expectancy,
Full of confidence in future joy.

Steadfast waiting
In the present dimness,
The fog of a weary world.

And this –
Childlike trust,
Admitting its inability
To untangle life’s problems,
Yet knowing the One
Who will make all things right.

Pretty soon it will be the new year. And each new year there are new plans and new systems to get your life organized, to become healthier and more productive. This kind of attitude applies to our spiritual lives as well. Many are motivated to ask how they can spend more consistent time with the Lord. How can they finally read through the whole Bible? Now I have no problem with being productive – I love checking off boxes as much as anyone, and spiritually speaking, bearing fruit is a biblical theme – but I sometimes chafe at the systems, the schedules, and the trackers. These things are helpful in prioritizing and organizing, but I also find them to be a hindrance if I’m not careful. How you ask? When they become a straightjacket of duty that defuses delight in God or maybe even an idol that you serve instead of a tool to a greater end.

All Christians should value a personal devotional life, but what that looks like in practice varies from person to person. And it should. One person is a single adult male with a rather predictable schedule every day. He can set up a routine where he spends a certain amount of time every day in Bible reading and prayer. Another person is a young mother of multiple small children. Her days are anything but predictable. She may have to wake up multiple times during the night. She may have very little to no quiet time to herself. Should she expect her devotional life to look like that of the single man? Of course not! That would be silly and almost cruel. It’s also a helpful thought experiment to apply this line of thinking globally. What does it look like for the persecuted Christian in North Korea to have a personal devotional life? What about the family hunkered down in war torn Kiev or the poor single mother in the Kibera slums of Nairobi, Kenya? If your expectations of the Christian’s devotional life cannot accommodate these people and their unpredictable situations, those expectations may become a legalistic yoke on the necks of our fellow brothers and sisters. You also may have felt the yoke of expectation resting heavy on your own neck. I know I have.

We’re Not Machines

Teaching on devotional practices has emphasized good things – consistency, reading schedules, prayer lists, and quiet ‘times’ – but maybe we haven’t emphasized them in the context of who we are as human beings: created, dependent, vulnerable, and weak sinners. If we present our systems and schedules as a kind of plug and play scenario without acknowledging our human nature, we make humans out to be little more than machines. Machines can run continuously if given enough energy. They can be programmed to operate on a predictable schedule. But our energy waxes and wanes. Our affections and motivations are muddled. We get sick. We have trouble sleeping. The dishwasher breaks, again. We also don’t acknowledge the reality of the seasons of life. People obviously experience different seasons of life, whether that be the intensity of parenting young children or the stress of caring for older parents. But somehow we don’t think we’re allowed to adjust our expectations for our devotional lives in response to these things.

We don’t do ourselves or others any favors if we expect our days to run seamlessly without interruption. These expectations actually prevent us from experiencing God’s mercy and grace in our weakness. It’s in our honest confession of inability that we enter into the divine strength that is found only in Christ.

We Think We’re Earning

A sneaky thing happens, at least to me, when I start depending on systems and schedules. I begin to believe that my implementation of these things and my accomplishment of the daily tasks earns blessings from God. And if I don’t? Well, I secretly believe I have lost the favor of God. Jerry Bridges talks about this in Chapter 1 of his excellent book, The Discipline of Grace. He calls it the problem of good day/bad day thinking. If we’ve had our ‘quiet time’ that morning and everything has gone pretty smoothly, we think that God is on our side and we can expect his favor. But if we’ve slept through our alarm, yelled at the kids, and ignored the Holy Spirit’s promptings, we believe that we’ve forfeited all chance of being used by him and we wallow in our failure. Bridges explains the problem behind this way of thinking:

Such a reply reveals an all-too-common misconception of the Christian life: the thinking that, although we are saved by grace, we earn or forfeit God’s blessings in our daily lives by our performance.

Bryan Chapell, in his book Holiness by Grace, agrees with Bridges and uses a parable of Jesus to put a sharp point on the subject. In Luke 17:7-10, Jesus tells the story of the unworthy servant who earns nothing from doing his duty, not even a ‘thank you’ from his master. Chapell admits that this parable makes us uncomfortable, but the point is this – our works do not earn us entry into God’s kingdom. He says, “However much we may want – or feel the need – to trophy our good works before God in order to merit his acceptance, our accomplishments remain insufficient to obligate him to care for us as members of his family.”

Chapell goes on to quote Martin Luther’s own struggle with this way of thinking:

I myself have been preaching and cultivating it [the message of grace]…for almost twenty years and still I feel the old clinging dirt of wanting to deal so with God that I may contribute something, so that he will have to give me his grace in exchange for my holiness.

We Forget the Goal

Once we come to grips with the honest truth that our status with God is completely unearned and freely given to us by grace through faith in Jesus Christ, that may reveal our true motivation in doing all these things. If my true motivation was tied up in a belief that I was earning (or forfeiting) the blessings and favor of God, then I’ve forgotten the goal of devotions in the first place.

But if my status with God has been freely given to me by what Christ has earned in my place, and his merit has been transferred to my account, then I am secure and free to come to God and enjoy communion with him without fear that my performance will affect his love for me. I can decide to use a reading plan or not, I can even quit a reading plan (!) if it is causing me anxiety and stress instead of fostering communion with the Lord. I can decide to spend 10 minutes or 3 hours with God based on my season of life or the way the Spirit is moving in my spirit that day.

This way of speaking about devotions and discipleship may cause some people to be nervous. “Are you saying people don’t have to do devotions? Are you saying that a quiet time isn’t necessary?” Yes and no. You will not earn more favor with God by your works, even the good work of a quiet time. But you won’t grow closer to God without a regular practice of communion with him through Bible reading and prayer. My point here is how we talk and teach about these things. If the conversation isn’t suffused with gospel truth and our practices aren’t driven by grace, then our devotional practice just becomes empty ritual and a striving to justify ourselves.

The goal is God. The way we get to him is by faith in Christ through the power of the Spirit using the Word and prayer. Remember that because of grace, you are free to use whatever other tools you desire, but beware that the tools are just that – tools. They have no power in and of themselves. However you do your devotions, it is the Spirit who gives life. (John 6:63; 2 Cor 3:6) So this new year, pray most of all for the Spirit to fill you and to give you a hunger and thirst for the Lord and his Word that you have never had before.

Meditation on the Word allows us to slow down and ponder each word and phrase. It allows us to question how each of them flows into the other. Sometimes I do a thought experiment and ponder the opposite meaning of a word or phrase to gain greater insight. For example, instead of, “The Lord is my shepherd…” I will consider how I’m honestly relating to God in the moment and choose a different descriptor. Years ago I was meditating on that phrase and I came up with, “The Lord is my taskmaster…” Ouch. That led to some honest reflection.

Little words often get overlooked but if we change them, they turn out to be very important. Consider Psalm 96:1-2:

Oh sing to the Lord a new song; sing to the Lord, all the earth!

Sing to the Lord, bless his name; tell of his salvation from day to day.

The preposition to is repeated three times. Three times there is a command to sing to the Lord. What if we replaced that with another preposition? Would it change the meaning?

Sing about the Lord.

Sing for the Lord.

I’m not saying these other prepositions don’t express a truth about how we are to praise the Lord. But they do change the meaning. Singing about someone isn’t necessarily personal. It doesn’t require them to be present. Singing for someone can describe a performance. But what about singing to someone?

Because my background includes some professional musical training, any time I am playing my instrument or singing I can fall into the trap of performing for someone. Last night I was at a Christmas event and we were singing carols and worship songs. I found myself worrying about how I sounded to other people and if the harmonies I was singing were correct. But by the end of the night I didn’t care as much and allowed myself to just sing to the Lord. Isn’t he my primary audience?

Zephaniah 3:16-17 is a favorite passage when speaking of singing and God. It says, “On that day [the Day of God’s arrival in the consummation] it shall be said to Jerusalem: ‘Fear not, O Zion; let not your hands grow weak. The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.”

Let those words and what they communicate about our God dwell richly in your soul. Marinate your heart in them. Our God, the Holy One of Israel, has redeemed us and that redemption is something he sings about! He so delights in his people (see also Psalm 149:4 and Isaiah 62:4-5) that he cannot help but break out in loud praise.

So as you make your through another holiday season and take time to sing carols and hymns and spiritual songs, remember that you are singing to someone. He hears them. He delights in them. And he is singing over you.

Oh, blessed is the soul whose hope has a face looking straight out to that day.

What day is Samuel Rutherford speaking of but the Day, the Last Day when Christ will appear and, as John wrote, we shall be like him for we shall see him as he is. (1 John 3:2) John goes on to say that this is how we should hope in him.

If I may lean on Rutherford for a definition of hope I would say this – hope is a face looking forward to the last day, the day of his coming and the consummation of all glory. For as Paul explains in Colossians 1:27:

To them God chose to make known how great among the Gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.

Turn your eyes upon Jesus this Lord’s Day as we look expectantly and full of hope for the Day of his coming.