already, but not yet

marmsky-devotions-pics-may-2017-17

devotional post #2019

Luke 17:20-25

Luk 17:20 Having been asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God was coming, he answered, “The kingdom of God is not coming with signs to be observed,
Luk 17:21 nor will they say, ‘Look, here it is!’ or ‘There!’ Because really, the kingdom of God is already in your midst.”
Luk 17:22 Then he said to the disciples, “The days are coming when you will want to see one of the days of the Son of Man, and you will not see it.
Luk 17:23 At that time, people will say to you, ‘Look, there he is!’ or ‘Look, here he is!’ Do not go out or chase after them.
Luk 17:24 Because just like the lightning flashes and lights up the sky from one side to the other, the Son of Man will be like that in his day.
Luk 17:25 But first he will have to suffer many things and be rejected by this generation.

already, but not yet

JThe Pharisees had heard Jesus speak of a kingdom, but when they looked at him, they saw no throne, no army, no political authority—nothing that resembled the kind of reign they expected. So they asked the natural question: When is this kingdom going to appear? Jesus’ answer was both corrective and revealing. The kingdom was not delayed. It was not hidden behind the scenes. It was already standing in front of them in the person of Jesus himself. Wherever the King is present, the kingdom is present. They simply lacked the eyes to see it.

But Jesus did not stop with the Pharisees. He turned to his disciples and prepared them for a very different reality. There would come a long stretch of time when he would not be physically among them. They would long for the days when they could see him, hear him, and walk beside him. In that absence, he warned them not to be misled by rumors or claims that he had returned secretly. His return would not be tucked away in a corner or whispered in private. It would be as unmistakable as lightning that splits the sky—sudden, brilliant, and visible to all.

Yet before that glorious return, Jesus had a mission to fulfill. His path did not lead first to a crown but to a cross. His appointment in Jerusalem was not to ascend a throne but to offer himself as the sacrifice that would redeem his people. The kingdom would come in power one day, but first it would come in suffering. The King would reign, but first he would die. And in that death, the very foundation of the kingdom would be laid.

This is why we trust his kingdom even now. We are not waiting to see whether he will be worthy to rule. He has already shown his worth in the giving of his life. We submit to his authority because he has already borne our sins, already conquered death, already inaugurated the kingdom in his own person. The King has come, the King will come again, and in the meantime, we live under his rule with confidence.

LORD, we trust in your kingdom, because we have already submitted to the authority of its king.

Posted in Jesus Christ, kingdom of God, second coming | Tagged | Leave a comment

gratitude is faith

marmsky-devotions-pics-may-2017-16

devotional post # 2018

Luke 17:11-19

Luk 17:11 At that time, on the way to Jerusalem, Jesus was passing by between Samaria and Galilee.
Luk 17:12 As he was entering a village, ten men with leprosy met him. They stood at a distance,
Luk 17:13 raised their voices and cried, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.”
Luk 17:14 When he saw them he said, “Go and present yourselves to the priests.” And as they went along, they were being purified.
Luk 17:15 Then one of them, when he saw he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice.
Luk 17:16 He fell with his face to the ground at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. (He happened to be a Samaritan.)
Luk 17:17 Then Jesus said, “Were not ten purified? Where are the other nine?
Luk 17:18 Was no one discovered to have turned back and give praise to God except this foreigner?”
Luk 17:19 Then he said to the man, “Get up and go your way. Your faith has made you well.”

gratitude is faith

In a world that constantly pulls us in a dozen directions at once, where schedules overflow and attention is scattered, faith often shows itself in the simplest and most grounded of practices: gratitude. Not the hurried, polite kind of thanks we offer out of habit, but the intentional act of turning back toward Jesus and acknowledging him as the source of every good thing in our lives. That return—quiet, deliberate, heartfelt—is itself an expression of faith.

Gratitude slows us down. It interrupts the frantic pace of our days and reorients us toward the One who sustains us. When we pause long enough to say, “Lord, thank you,” we are doing more than listing blessings. We are confessing dependence. We are recognizing that our lives are not self‑made. We are remembering that every joy, every provision, every moment of strength or clarity or comfort has a name behind it—and that name is Jesus.

In the story of the ten lepers, only one returned to give thanks. Jesus noticed. Gratitude is not small in his eyes. It is a sign that the heart understands where healing comes from. It is faith made visible. The man who returned did not perform a miracle, preach a sermon, or demonstrate spiritual brilliance. He simply came back. He turned around, retraced his steps, and placed his thanks at Jesus’ feet. That act revealed more about his faith than any dramatic gesture could have.

In the same way, our gratitude today is not a minor spiritual exercise. It is a declaration that Christ is the giver, the sustainer, the shepherd of our days. It is a way of saying, “My life is not random. My blessings are not accidental. I know who has carried me.” Gratitude keeps our faith rooted in reality—anchored not in our busyness or our accomplishments but in the generosity of God.

So when life becomes hectic, when responsibilities multiply, when the noise grows loud, faith calls us to return. To pause. To remember. To give thanks. That simple act keeps our hearts aligned with the One who never stops giving.

LORD, thank you for all those blessings that have come our way. We know their source.

Posted in blessings, thanksgiving | Tagged | 1 Comment

special attention saints

marmsky-devotions-pics-may-2017-15

devotional post #2017

Luke 17:7-10

Luk 17:7 “Would any one of you say to your slave who comes in from the field after plowing or shepherding sheep, ‘Come at once and sit down for a meal’?
Luk 17:8 Won’t the master instead say to him, ‘Get my dinner ready, and make yourself ready to serve me while I eat and drink. Then you will be allowed to eat and drink’?
Luk 17:9 He won’t be thanking the slave because he did what he was told, will he?
Luk 17:10 So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, ‘We are slaves undeserving of special attention; we have only done what was our duty.'”

special attention saints

In some circles today, believers are urged to “use their faith” as a tool for personal advancement—speak the right words, believe hard enough, and God will supposedly reward you with better health, greater influence, or a fuller bank account. But when we listen carefully to Jesus, especially in the passage you’re reflecting on, that way of thinking simply doesn’t fit. Jesus never treats faith as a lever we pull to improve our circumstances. He never suggests that the kingdom exists to enhance our personal standing. Instead, he consistently teaches that the kingdom exists for the glory of the King.

Jesus’ words remind us that living as citizens of his kingdom means shifting the spotlight away from ourselves and onto him. The goal is not to accumulate spiritual achievements or to demonstrate how “faith-filled” we are. The goal is obedience—quiet, steady, unadorned obedience. Even when we do everything he commands, Jesus says we should not expect applause or recognition. We are not spiritual performers waiting for the crowd to cheer. We are servants whose joy is found in the pleasure of our Master.

This is deeply countercultural. We live in a world that measures everything by visibility, success, and personal gain. Even religious environments can absorb that mindset, turning faith into a technique for self-improvement. But Jesus refuses to let his disciples think that way. The kingdom is not a platform for self-promotion. It is a realm where the King’s will is done, the King’s character is displayed, and the King’s glory is the point of everything.

When we embrace that truth, something freeing happens. We stop worrying about whether our faith is impressive. We stop anxiously measuring our spiritual progress. We stop trying to leverage God for personal benefit. Instead, we learn to rest in the simple dignity of obedience. We learn to find joy in pleasing the One who saved us. We learn that faith is not a tool for self‑advancement but a posture of trust that keeps us aligned with the King.

It is enough that he sees. It is enough that he knows. It is enough that he is pleased.

LORD, give us the wisdom to seek your will.

Posted in contentment, discipleship, kingdom of God, servanthood | Tagged | Leave a comment

you have what you need

marmsky-devotions-pics-may-2017-14

devotional post # 2016

Luke 17:3-6

Luk 17:3 Attend to yourselves! If your brother sins, rebuke him. If he repents, forgive him.
Luk 17:4 Even if he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times returns to you saying, ‘I repent,’ you must forgive him.”
Luk 17:5 The missionaries said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!”
Luk 17:6 That was when the Lord replied, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this black mulberry tree, ‘Be pulled out by the roots and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.

You have what you need

After warning his followers not to lead anyone into sin, Jesus turns their attention inward—not to burden them, but to steady them. He does not hand them a spiritual checklist or a set of heroic disciplines to prove their worth. He does not say, “Study harder, pray longer, fast more often, give more generously, and perhaps you will survive as my disciples.” Instead, he speaks with a quiet, liberating confidence: you already have what you need. The issue is not acquiring more spiritual strength but recognizing the sufficiency of the One who called them.

Jesus knows that life in community will test them. Brothers will fail one another. Wounds will come from people who should have been safe. And sometimes the same person will fail repeatedly. Yet Jesus tells them they have the power to forgive—not because they are naturally patient or spiritually advanced, but because forgiveness flows from the life of Christ within them. Their capacity to obey does not rise from their own reservoir of strength. It rises from him.

When the disciples hear this, they panic a little. “Increase our faith,” they plead, as though the problem is that they simply don’t have enough spiritual fuel. But Jesus gently corrects them. Faith is not measured by volume or intensity. The smallest seed of faith—if it is real, if it is rooted in him—is enough to move mountains, uproot trees, and reshape lives. The power is not in the faith itself but in the One to whom faith clings. A mustard seed of trust in Christ accomplishes more than a mountain of trust in oneself.

This is where Jesus’ words confront our own instincts. We often live as though our inadequacies define us. We rehearse our weaknesses, our failures, our inconsistencies, and then conclude that we are barely hanging on spiritually. But Jesus refuses to let his disciples build their lives on self‑assessment. He redirects them to himself. Your salvation does not depend on your strength. Your sanctification does not depend on your consistency. Everything that matters—your forgiveness, your growth, your endurance—comes from Christ. And Christ is not inadequate. Anyone he chooses to save is saved completely, held securely, and supplied with everything needed for life and godliness.

You have what you need because you have him.

LORD, thank you for being all that we need for life in this age, and eternal life in the next age.

Posted in confidence, discipleship, faithfulness, forgiveness | Tagged | Leave a comment

millstones and movements

marmsky-devotions-pics-may-2017-13

devotional post # 2015

Luke 17:1-2

Luk 17:1 Also, he said to his disciples, “Stumbling blocks are not out of the question, but tragedy will happen to the one through whom they come!
Luk 17:2 It would be better for him to have a millstone tied around his neck and be thrown into the sea than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin.

millstones and movements

A few years ago, Penny and I were in Auckland, wandering through the Maritime Museum, when we came upon a massive millstone—taller than I am, carved from dense stone, immovable and solemn. The moment I saw it, my mind went straight to Jesus’ warning about millstones and the weight of leading others astray. It wasn’t just the size of the stone that struck me; it was the symbolism. A millstone is heavy enough to drag a person to the bottom of the sea. Jesus chose that image deliberately. He wanted His listeners to feel the gravity of influencing others toward error.

That warning becomes especially sharp when we think about theological “innovation.” Jesus knew how easily a clever idea, a fresh angle, or a charismatic teacher could capture people’s imaginations. A single person’s “new insight” can ripple outward, shaping not just one life but entire generations. History is full of movements that began with someone’s spiritual creativity and ended with communities drifting far from the gospel. Jesus’ point is not that curiosity is dangerous, but that novelty in matters of doctrine often carries hidden consequences. When someone introduces a teaching that departs from the well-worn path of Scripture, they bear responsibility for every step others take in that direction.

This is why the old saying rings true: if it is new, it is not true. The gospel is ancient, steady, and rooted. It does not need to be improved, updated, or reimagined. Faithfulness is not found in chasing the next spiritual trend but in holding fast to what has already been given. The church’s task is not innovation but preservation—guarding the good deposit, passing it on intact, and refusing to let novelty masquerade as revelation.

Standing before that millstone, I felt the weight of Jesus’ warning. Leadership—whether in a pulpit, a classroom, or a quiet conversation—carries real responsibility. Our words shape souls. Our ideas can either steady people on the straight path or nudge them toward danger. The call is not to brilliance but to faithfulness.

LORD, give us the wisdom to lead people along straight paths. Keep us humble, cautious, and anchored in Your truth, so that our influence becomes a blessing rather than a burden.

Posted in discernment, integrity, teaching, truth | Tagged | Leave a comment

not a theology of the afterlife

marmsky-devotions-pics-may-2017-12

devotional post #2014

Luke 16:24-31

Luk 16:24 So he yelled out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.’
Luk 16:25 But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things and Lazarus likewise bad things, but now he is being comforted here and you are in agony.
Luk 16:26 Besides all this, a great gap has been placed between us, so that those who want to cross over from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.’
Luk 16:27 So the rich man said, ‘Then I beg you, father — send Lazarus to my father’s house
Luk 16:28 (because I have five brothers) to warn them so that they don’t come into this place of torment.’
Luk 16:29 But Abraham said, ‘They have Moses and the prophets; they must listen to them.’
Luk 16:30 Then the rich man said, ‘No, father Abraham, but if someone risen from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’
Luk 16:31 He replied to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.'”

not a theology of the afterlife

Before we hurry to treat this parable as a window into the mechanics of the afterlife, we need to remember who Jesus was talking to and why he told it. His audience was not the disciples seeking clarity about death, resurrection, or final judgment. His audience was the Pharisees—men who were confident in their theology, proud of their status, and convinced that their prosperity was proof of God’s approval. Jesus crafted this story using their categories, their assumptions, and their imagery, not to teach metaphysics but to expose their spiritual blindness.

When Jesus taught his disciples about death, he consistently called it sleep—a temporary state from which he would awaken his people. When he taught them about judgment, he located it at his return, not at the moment of death. When he taught them about hell, he described it as destruction, not endless conscious torment. None of those themes appear here because this parable is not meant to be a doctrinal map of the unseen world. It is a prophetic confrontation aimed at people who believed their earthly comfort guaranteed their eternal safety.

The Pharisees assumed that wealth was a sign of God’s favor and that poverty was a sign of God’s displeasure. Jesus flips that assumption on its head. The rich man in the story is not condemned because he is wealthy; he is condemned because he is indifferent. He steps over Lazarus day after day, never imagining that his future could be any different from his present. He is the embodiment of the person who says, “I’m doing fine now, so I must be fine with God.” Jesus tells this story to shatter that illusion.

That is why we must resist the temptation to make the parable “walk on all fours”—to treat every detail as literal teaching about the afterlife. Parables are not built that way. They are crafted to deliver a single, piercing truth. And the truth here is simple: your present comfort is not proof of your destiny. God is looking for people who know they need him, who repent, who trust his grace—not people who assume they are safe because life is going well.

The parable is a warning, not a textbook. A mirror, not a map.

LORD, give us wisdom to treat your word with reverence, to hear what you intend to say, and to resist making it something it is not.

Posted in Bible, destruction in hell, discernment, sleep of death | Tagged | Leave a comment

what God is looking for

marmsky-devotions-pics-may-2017-11

devotional post #2013

Luke 16;19-23

Luk 16:19 “There was a rich man who dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted opulently every day.
Luk 16:20 But at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus whose body was covered with sores,
Luk 16:21 who longed to eat what fell from the rich man’s table. Also, the dogs came and licked his sores.
Luk 16:22 “Now the poor man died and was carried by the angels to Abraham’s presence. The rich man also died and was buried.
Luk 16:23 And in Hades, he lifted up his eyes, while he was in torment, seeing Abraham from far off and Lazarus in his presence.

what God is looking for

Jesus ends this long sequence of parables with the story of the rich man and Lazarus because it brings the whole argument into sharp focus. Everything in Luke 15–16 has been Jesus’ response to the Pharisees’ complaint that he was spending time with “sinners,” the very people they believed were beneath God’s concern. So Jesus tells a series of stories designed to expose how differently God sees the world.

A shepherd leaves ninety‑nine sheep in the wilderness to search for the one that wandered off. A woman tears apart her house to recover a single lost coin. A father runs to embrace a son who disgraced him, while the older brother refuses to celebrate. A shrewd manager uses his last moments of employment to secure a future for himself. Each story presses the same truth from a different angle: God rejoices over the lost who are found, and God honors those who think about their future with him rather than clinging to the illusions of the present.

Then Jesus turns to the Pharisees and says, “You like to appear righteous in public, but God knows your hearts.” That is the hinge on which the final parable turns. The rich man in Luke 16:19–31 is the embodiment of outward success. He is comfortable, admired, and secure. He assumes that his present condition is a preview of his eternal one. Lazarus, meanwhile, is invisible to him—someone whose suffering does not register, someone whose presence at his gate is an inconvenience rather than a summons to compassion.

But Jesus overturns the Pharisees’ assumptions. The rich man’s comfort was temporary; Lazarus’s misery was temporary. What mattered was not how they appeared in the eyes of society but how they responded to God’s call. The rich man never recognized his need for mercy. He never repented. He never trusted the God who had spoken through Moses and the prophets. He lived as though he needed nothing, and that illusion decided his destiny.

The parable is not about economic status but spiritual posture. God is not looking for the self‑assured, the self‑sufficient, or the self‑confident. He is looking for those who know they need him—those who turn from their sin and trust his grace. The Pharisees missed the gospel because they could not imagine themselves as lost. Jesus tells these stories so that we will not make the same mistake.

LORD, we trust in your grace, not in our self‑confidence.

Posted in dependence upon God, discipleship, grace | Tagged | Leave a comment

conflicting commitment

marmsky-devotions-pics-may-2017-10

devotional post #2012

Luke 16:16-18

Luk 16:16 “The law and the prophets were in force until John; since then, the excellent message of the kingdom of God has been proclaimed, and everyone is urged to enter it.
Luk 16:17 But it is easier for the sky and the land to pass away than for one tiny stroke of a letter in the law to become void.
Luk 16:18 “Anyone who divorces his wife and marries someone else commits adultery, and the one who marries a woman divorced from her husband commits adultery.

conflicting commitment

Luke weaves this brief teaching into the flow of chapter 16 because it exposes the deeper issue beneath the Pharisees’ objections: they were missing the gospel at its core. Jesus had been calling his listeners to wholehearted devotion to God, to treat wealth as a temporary trust rather than a permanent security. But the Pharisees, who prided themselves on their strict adherence to the law, had already shifted their allegiance. Outwardly, they appeared married to the law—faithful, disciplined, righteous. Inwardly, they had divorced that covenant and taken a new spouse: money.

Jesus’ words about divorce and remarriage in this context are not a sudden change of subject. They are a metaphor aimed directly at the Pharisees’ spiritual infidelity. The law they claimed to honor demanded total commitment to God—love with heart, soul, mind, and strength. But they had abandoned that covenant for the comfort, status, and security that wealth provided. They were living a double life: publicly devoted to God, privately devoted to riches. And Jesus warns them that the very law they flaunted would be the standard by which they were judged.

This is not merely an ancient critique. Conflicting commitments still fracture our spiritual lives today. We may not bow to money in the same way, but we often try to serve God while clinging to rival loyalties—comfort, reputation, control, self‑protection, or the approval of others. We want the benefits of belonging to God without surrendering the competing loves that quietly rule our hearts. Jesus’ words remind us that divided devotion is no devotion at all. The Father seeks a people who are not merely outwardly aligned with him but inwardly faithful, whose hearts are not split between kingdoms.

Luke places this teaching here to show that the Pharisees’ problem was not ignorance but infidelity. They knew the law. They taught the law. They enforced the law. But they did not love the God who gave it. Their commitments were fractured, and their loyalties were tangled. Jesus calls them—and us—back to a single, undivided allegiance.

LORD, purge us of our conflicting commitments. Strip away the rival loves that pull our hearts in different directions. Keep us faithful to you alone.

Posted in commitment, discipleship, kingdom of God | Tagged | Leave a comment

high society low lifes

marmsky-devotions-pics-may-2017-9

devotional post # 2011

Luke 16:13-15

Luk 16:13 No servant can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.”
Luk 16:14 The Pharisees (who loved money) heard all this and ridiculed him.
Luk 16:15 But Jesus said to them, “You are the ones who justify yourselves in men’s eyes, but God knows your hearts. Because what is highly prized among men is utterly detestable in God’s sight.

high society low lifes

Jesus had been urging his listeners to reorder their priorities—to stop treating money as a god and to start treating God as the only One worthy of ultimate trust. He had just taught that this life is a proving ground, a stewardship test, and that the way we handle temporary wealth reveals whether we are ready for the true riches of the kingdom. To the Pharisees, this was absurd. They were the cultural success stories of their day: admired, respected, financially secure, and socially celebrated. In their minds, wealth was proof of divine approval. Their status was their righteousness. Their applause was their assurance.

But Jesus saw through the glitter. He called them what they were: “high‑society lowlifes”—people who shined in the eyes of their peers but were hollow before God. They had mastered the art of appearing righteous while neglecting the very heart of God’s law. They lived for the admiration of their community, but gave no thought to the gaze of heaven. Their values were upside down. What they prized, God despised. What they dismissed, God cherished.

This is not just a first‑century problem. Many today still live for the approval of their culture, their social circle, their online audience, or their professional world. They measure success by visibility, comfort, and applause. They assume that if people admire them, God must be pleased as well. But Jesus warns that the world’s applause is a poor indicator of spiritual health. You can be celebrated publicly and bankrupt spiritually. You can be envied by others and estranged from God.

At the same time, Jesus quietly affirms that there are some—often unnoticed, often unimpressive by worldly standards—who are trying to serve God first. They are investing their lives in what lasts. They are choosing faithfulness over popularity, obedience over convenience, generosity over self‑promotion. They may look ridiculous to a world obsessed with status, but they are the ones who understand the kingdom.

And Jesus extends an invitation: Join them. Step out of the exhausting pursuit of human approval and into the freedom of seeking God’s will. Let the world think you foolish if it must. Better to be ridiculous in the world’s sight than empty in God’s.

LORD, give us the courage to be ridiculous in the world’s sight, and the wisdom to seek your will in our lives.

Posted in hypocrisy, money, relationship with God | Tagged | Leave a comment

the now test

marmsky-devotions-pics-may-2017-8

devotional post #2010

Luke 16:10-12

Luk 16:10 “The one who proves faithful in a very little is also faithful in much, and the one who is dishonest in a very little is also dishonest in much.
Luk 16:11 If then you haven’t been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will entrust you with the true riches?
Luk 16:12 And if you haven’t been trustworthy with someone else’s property, who will give you your own?

the now test

Jesus presses this parable on us because it exposes a subtle but dangerous illusion: the belief that money and possessions exist primarily to make us happy. That is the default setting of the human heart. We assume that if we can gather enough, secure enough, or enjoy enough, we will finally be satisfied. But Jesus reframes the entire conversation. Wealth is not the substance of life; it is a stewardship. It is not the true treasure; it is the test before the treasure.

In the parable, the dishonest manager is commended not for his ethics but for his insight. He recognizes that his present resources are temporary, and he uses them with the future in mind. Jesus takes that principle and applies it to every disciple: whatever we possess now—money, influence, opportunities, relationships—is not ours to keep. It is entrusted to us for a season, and the way we use it reveals the condition of our hearts.

This is why Jesus calls wealth “little things.” Not because money is unimportant, but because it is temporary. It belongs to another. It will not follow us into the age to come. Yet it is precisely in these temporary things that our faithfulness is tested. If we treat wealth as a personal entitlement, we fail the test. If we treat it as a tool for loving those the Father loves, we begin to handle it with kingdom wisdom.

The rich man in the next parable failed this test spectacularly. He assumed his comfort was permanent. He assumed his status would carry over into eternity. He assumed that stepping over Lazarus day after day had no consequences. But Jesus shows that the true riches—the riches of God’s kingdom, God’s joy, God’s presence—are given to those who use their temporary possessions in ways that reflect the Father’s heart.

This is the challenge for us. We are not asked to despise wealth, nor to idolize it, but to steward it. To see every possession as a trust. To ask, “How can this serve the Father’s purposes today? How can this bless someone he loves? How can this small thing prepare me for the greater things he longs to give?”

LORD, show us how to wisely invest all that you give us today, so that we may be found faithful stewards of your gifts.

Posted in blessings, faithfulness, money | Tagged | Leave a comment