Imagine you have a huge debt. I’m talking six figures. Whatever it is– medical, educational, a mortgage– it is crushing and the interest rate on it means that you will be paying it off for the rest of your life. The payments on that debt are so high that you will have to work and work and work around the clock to try and make it. Forget about vacations, luxury items, and eating meals out. You’re just lucky to have food on your table. Everything you think about, do, and work towards seems to have that debt looming over it, shadowing everything. No hope, no relief, no peace.

John the Baptist: a guy who was simple in a lot of ways and yet had a big job. Scripture describes him as a man who “wore a garment of camel’s hair and a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey.” (Matthew 3:4) To us, it might sound a little crazy and alternative between the clothes, the diet, and the wilderness lifestyle, but in a lot of ways, John the Baptist was a real-time example of God’s provision over a man that walked by faith and in his calling. Seriously. This guy lived out in the wilderness– not a desert, but not in a comfortable town either– and lived off of what God gave him. He didn’t worry or strive or beg his followers to provide for him. Scripture doesn’t say that he led a revival, baptized people, and then shook down the crowds of people for a paycheck afterwards. John lived and breathed his ministry: to prepare the way for Jesus’ coming and calling the world to repentance ahead of Christ’s ministry. It wasn’t a side hustle or a mere passion project. It was his whole life.

I always find it silly when I’m talking about Jesus to someone and they say something along the lines of, “I can’t be a Christian. God doesn’t want me. I’m too far gone for all that.” In theory, I can understand what they mean, and I can sympathize with the fact that someone thinks they are outside of God’s love for them or that they’ve done something to disqualify them from being a part of what God is doing. We might all feel like that at some time or another– caught up in our flesh and sin, knowing we have done wrong– and felt that there was no way Jesus could save us after knowing how despicable we are. To feel that way is to not understand what Jesus did on the cross, and the full extent of that salvation extended.

I wanted to return to John, chapter 1 this week to finish up the little section that we’d been reading through together. I know, these opening verses seem so simple in nature, but they were really radical at the time they were written, and they really peel back parts of the gospel that might seem overplayed to us at times today.

The Book of Ephesians is one of the most beautiful letters Paul writes to the church. It’s a favorite among many, including myself, and Ephesians 1 is the overture that sets the tone to this awe-inspiring encouragement to the church. Within chapter 1, verses 3 through 14 is a dense preamble that touches upon things like grace, adoption, inheritance, blessing, redemption, glory to God, and truth. There is too much to say about it in one devotion, and if we did, we could be here for weeks and weeks on that passage alone.

I’ve probably said this before, but Ruth is one of my favorite books in the Bible. Some people disagree. I’ve heard some people pull out some really questionable theology out of this book and completely twist it completely out of context. The truth is, at its heart, the Book of Ruth is a beautiful metaphor of God’s redemptive plan and one woman’s resilience and tenacity.

Tons of people are remembered in the Bible. Some for their bravery, some for their deep faith in God; some for their mistakes, and others for their quick wits. And although the men tend to catch biblical legacy for longer stretches of scripture, there are still countless tales of women that should be remembered for their tenacity to honor God above all else and further His kingdom, even if their stories are brief.

Jesus’ birth was no accident; that’s something we’ve been really driving home over the past few weeks. His arrival was foretold in the Old Testament numerous times in psalms and songs, from prophets, and from God Himself. And since everything from his lineage, to the place and circumstances of Jesus’ birth were already in scripture, we could be sure that when it actually happened, we’d have the ability to check and prove that this birth was the arrival of the Messiah God had promised us. Without this foreshadowing, we might have accepted any liar that wanted to masquerade and exploit themselves as the promise of God.

I’ve been leading us up to this moment for a few weeks now. First, we got to see Abram and God lay out the terms of the contract; Abram needing a son, and God promising to give him that son and make him into a nation. Then, we got to see the making of a contract, seeing the beauty in the seemingly bloody and violent covenant.

I think any Christian that has a real grasp of the Bible has this down: God made a covenant with Abraham at the beginning of the Old Testament, but Jesus died to create a better covenant at the start of the New Testament. The old covenant was specifically for the Jewish people. The new was for Jew and Gentile. The old promise was the law and the new promise was grace.