Adventist Review Podcasts

“Forgive me,” we say flippantly, painting on a shallow smile, when we discover we are misaligned with someone greater or more powerful—someone who might make us hurt. We view our error lightly—just a minor inconvenience—and we hope the one offended will quickly do the same. Why do the humbling work of owning all that happened and acknowledging its impact? But true forgiveness is a thoughtful, time-intensive mercy—never rushed if genuine; never brushed away if real. Unless we face the injury we've caused, we ask for restoration without repentance, a mere smoothing of ruffled surfaces.  If the needed words are “I'm sorry that I hurt you,” or “I can see how I was wrong,” speak truthfully, and find the needed healing. “Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ” (Gal 6:1-2). And when we are the ones offended and it is our turn to forgive, we plant the seeds of our own future grudges if we pretend a painful hurt is only minor and dismissible. What goes unsaid is usually unforgiven as well. Both grace and truth are called for each time there is an injury. Only those who know themselves forgiven by the One who was always “full of grace and truth” (John 1:14) ever truly forgive another broken soul. Only in the field of grace can reconciliation blossom. So stay in grace. -Bill Knott

Wherever grace is welcomed and received, joy follows, just as daylight follows dawn. And so we can read backwards from so many grayed-out, joyless souls to learn how few have heard and loved and lived the gospel. All fearful, anxious following of Jesus—all dim preoccupation with the things we've done or left undone—reveals that we are still in darkness, wrestling with the shadows Jesus rose to vanquish. “In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:4-5). So hear the gospel chorus in the songbirds' pre-dawn trilling, bringing light to weary souls—like yours: “Arise, shine; for your light has come, 
  and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you. For behold, darkness shall cover the earth, 
  and thick darkness the peoples; 
but the Lord will arise upon you, 
  and His glory will be seen upon you” (Isaiah 60:1-2). The Light of all the world invites you: be done with anxious, midnight brooding. The day that dawns is meant to be abundant and eternal, the endless morning of the Son. And stay in grace. – Bill Knott

In every soul who has ever been healed, conviction rises that they must tell the story of how God's goodness rebuilt a broken body or a wounded spirit.  Bones got mended; diseases conquered; mobility advanced; relationships renewed. When grace restores what pain has taken, “Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy; then it was said among the nations, “The Lord has done great things for them” (Psalm 126:2).  We gladly own we couldn't—didn't—heal ourselves. No self-help remedies can knit the muscles of a heart—or reconcile two wounded hearts. Only a power outside ourselves—a love that will not let us go—would care enough to build our peace, to make us whole. And so the world daily echoes with the praise of those who once feared darkness and despair would be their final verdict: “O give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, for His steadfast love endures forever” (Psa 136:1). So do not be surprised if you should feel like singing—if contagious joy spills on from you to half a dozen or a hundred. Your healing was for them as well as you. “You, God, have turned my mourning into dancing” (Psa 30:11).  Irrepressible—and irresistible—joy is the lasting legacy of grace.  Move in it. And stay in it. – Bill Knott

My pride is stung. My spirit's wounded. The untrue, unjust thing that someone said, that someone wrote, went viral with unheard-of speed, fanned on by evil angels. And rising with the bitter righteousness of bile, the fantasy of sweet revenge becomes more urgent every hour. “Strike back!” say Truth and Justice. “Set the twisted record straight. Unmask the gossiper for who he is, for what she wrote. Redeem your ruined reputation.” And then Grace whispers, “You have already been redeemed. Your reputation is the best that it could ever be because your life is hid with Christ in God. The pleasures of retaliation are nothing—meaningless—beside the joys of being both forgiven AND forgiving.” Grace dulls our taste for vengefulness, and makes us hungry for the fullness of God's joy. “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control” (Gal 5:22). “Taste and see that the Lord is good” (Ps 34:8). And stay in grace. -Bill Knott

If you revisit all the beaches where you built sandcastles in the sun, chances are, you'll never even find a one.  The constant pull of wash and wave reduces all the outposts where we once asserted sovereignty. Our turrets and our towers, our moats and battlements have long since lost the struggle to insist on what was never really ours. And so it is as grace subdues the castles of our pride and self-assertion. The lovely, unrelenting rhythm of God's kindness and His mercy overruns our fierce objections and erodes our staked positions. While we were sleeping at our stations, we were flooded by forgiveness, cracked and circled by repeated offers of redemption. And for many—all who acknowledge they are beaten—grace reclaims a life that always was the property of God. Unless you build cement into your soul—unless you daily and deliberately refuse the pull of God's unceasing love—you'll yet surrender to the grace that outmaneuvers all our pride. With the apostle Paul, you'll soon exclaim, “But I received mercy because I had acted ignorantly in unbelief, and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ” (1 Tim 1:13-14). There is an hour for yielding crumbling fortresses to grace. Your hour has come. The tide is in. Rejoice in what you used to fight. And stay in grace. -Bill Knot

It's the most famous line ever written about grace by an author not recorded in God's Word: “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.” Every week, around the globe, it's sung and said uncounted times, bringing joy and certainty to billions of believers. Whole lives are built on this. But the lived reality of grace requires that we move beyond the first person voice, and grasp our role within the choir. For while grace operates for each of us as individuals, we learn it by and through and with—and for—believers Christ in grace puts near us. “And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another” (2 Cor 3:18). We gather grace from gracious people. We forgive as we're forgiven. We speak kindly when we listen to kind words. We risk embracing others when we've found the deep security of being gripped in love. A solo Christian is theoretically possible but practically unheard of. God has ordained that all our growth in grace comes through the community of others. We're taught; we stretch; we struggle; we discover among the others who are also on the journey. From them we gain what no one wretch might ever know: “Amazing grace, no sweeter words Were ever sung by choir; From them we learn the lovely song, The passion, and the fire.” Now stay in grace. -Bill Knott

Savoring the creamy richness of delectable milk chocolate. Settling into the plush leather of a luxury car. Dangling your feet in the stunningly blue water of a South Pacific lagoon. What do these very different life experiences have in common? Each is richly imaged for us by adroit advertisers who correctly sense how desperately we seek relief from everyday hecticity. We need something to break the cycle: we need a respite from the crushing stress. But the Word of God reminds us that we manufacture most of all that pains us. “For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God's glorious standard” (Rom 3:23). Our essential uneasiness results from years of choosing the fleeting pleasures of this moment over the joys of God's eternal friendship. Is there a better answer than smooth chocolate, deep leather and Tahitian sunsets? “God, in His grace, freely makes us right in His sight. He did this through Christ Jesus when He freed us from the penalty for our sins” (Rom 3:24). “All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all” (Isa 53:6). Grace is an enduring delight because the Lord is risen. The pleasure of His freedom lasts forever. So stay in grace. -Bill Knott

What is it in our restless hearts that cannot graciously receive a gift? A friend invites us to a grand, delightful meal, and even before dessert is served, we're busy evening the score. We fail to taste the kindly moment because we're painfully obsessed with making certain our account with one we call a friend is “balanced”—even though it is a dinner spread and not a spreadsheet gleaming in the candlelight. And so we say to God when He so kindly offers us eternity through what His Son has sacrificed: “That's truly nice—and in exchange I'll do 10,000 good, obedient things that makes it seem I'm less in Your debt, and somehow more deserving.” Grace wounds our pride by disallowing all our offers of equivalence. There is no service we can offer God that even starts to mitigate His gift. Our prayers, our gifts, our sweat, our pain do not begin to make us anything but debtors to the kindness we've been given. “In this is love, not that we loved God but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins” (1 John 4:10). Grace teaches us the habit of receiving what we never can repay—of reveling in it, and telling strangers just how blessed we are. A heartfelt “thank you” is the best response when offered joy, and peace, and freedom. Then stay in grace. -Bill Knott

What makes the light of Easter last long past the hymns and lilies? The ground beneath our feet has moved. The grim, unshaken certainties of loss and grief and toil and death have finally succumbed—and to such stunningly good news: “For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive” (1 Cor.15.22). Our muddied tale of violence and pain has yielded in a burst of light that stubbornly rejects a fade: “Christ died for our sins, just as the Scriptures said. He was buried, and He was raised from the dead on the third day” (1 Cor 15:3-4). Now dawns the interrupted life—the days when joy reclaims its missing hours. The resurrected Christ insists there'll be a better, brighter finish to our story. We dare to laugh, to stretch, to love: not all things stay just as they were. We reach for strangers, suddenly so confident that love will win when all is done. We dance with children in the puddles: the rain we used to curse now waters our new life. The sinews of our hope grow strong, resilient—able now to bear what yesterday we feared. The Great Disrupter has arisen, and He is making all things new. So rise and walk—and stay in grace. -Bill Knott

In the blackness of Sunday morning, the prodigal opened His eyes and murmured softly, “I will arise and go to my Father, and will say to Him, ‘Father, I have borne the sins of every human who has ever lived. I am worthy to be called your Son.'” And a reunion postponed for 33 years split the midnight of our world. Out of wretchedness came joy. Out of brokenness came healing. Love triumphed over death. Grace reclaimed what sin had stolen. The Liberator came back to life. Then the voices of a billion angels shook the galaxies and stars: “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain to receive power and riches and wisdom, and strength and honor and glory and blessing!” (Rev 5:12). That's why we sing the story of the resurrection every time we can. This is the truth that underlines our certainty: “He was handed over to die because of our sins, and He was raised to life to make us right with God” (Rom 4:25). This stone-cold planet, rife with death, smothered in pain and gasping for life, is not our destination: “'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future'”(Jer 29:11). Your future began with the resurrection of Jesus. Grace declares His victory can be yours. So stay in grace. -Bill Knott

Left to ourselves, what we know of forgiveness would soon disappear. Left to ourselves, acts of mercy would soon drown in the ocean of self-centeredness. Left to ourselves, what light and warmth still shines in our communities would soon go dark. Why help a neighbor, when he is just one more competitor for dwindling resources? But the good news is that we are never left to ourselves. Into this dark, unforgiving environment, where greed ran rampant and trust had disappeared, God shared His best—His Son. “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen His glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). He forgave, and so we slowly learned to forgive. He lifted up broken, wounded people, and in His name, millions of suffering people every day receive care. In the midnight of our anger and self-interest, His grace radiates clarity and power. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). Grace is the counterweight to the mass of ruin we have brought upon ourselves. One life of love outweighs the world. And the story of His sacrifice to save us and restore the light sings louder than the raging headlines of the day. “For God was in Christ, reconciling the world to Himself, no longer counting people's sins against them. And He gave us this wonderful message of reconciliation” (2 Cor 5:19). Invite the light of grace into your world. And stay in it. -Bill Knott

A gospel song from long ago gathered the hope of millions into a yearning vision of peace:  “Someday, a bright new wave Will break upon the shore;  And there'll be no sickness No more sorrow, no more war; And little children Never will go hungry any more . . .” That bright new world hasn't yet arrived. The headlines rage. The nations totter. Famished children in refugee camps wait for promised bread and water.  But for believers in Jesus, our reality has already begun to change, even as we long for the day when God will make all things new. The greatest shift in history has already happened: “For He has rescued us from the kingdom of darkness and transferred us into the Kingdom of His dear Son, who purchased our freedom and forgave our sins” (Col 1:13-14).  That bright new world arrives as, one by one, we accept the grace of Jesus, and then pick up His work in this world—healing; comforting; peacemaking; embracing displaced, frightened kids.  “So we do not lose heart. Though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed every day” (2 Cor 4:16). The greatest change is a change of heart. Yours can begin today.  Then stay in grace. -Bill Knott

It never was a straight-line thing, this love we call the grace of God. It circles and surrounds, embraces and includes, until the throngs that praise God's name are far too vast to count.  In grace, Jesus forgives me. With gratitude, I offer you forgiveness. Because you have been liberated, you pass that grace to one who has offended you. And he in turn, when I offend him, offers me forgiveness. “Be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you” (Eph 4:32).  So grace begins with us as individuals, but never rests until communities are built that flourish with forgiveness. Have you been freed? Then free another. Has God in kindness humbled you? Then serve your neighbors with humility. Have you learned to sing “Amazing Grace”? Then teach it—all four parts for harmony—until a chorus of redemption rises from this broken, fragile world.  Grace isn't grace if it stops moving, turning, changing lives. When it is blocked; when mercy slows; when forgiveness is extended only to the ones we deem as worthy, the Spirit cannot heal the world, and we sink back into that pinched and parched existence we once knew.  But when we offer what's been offered us, the river flows; the fields yield; and resurrected life will blossom everywhere.  Keep passing it along.  And stay in grace. -Bill Knott

Those the world calls saints weren't typically the brittle, stained-glass figures of our pious imagination. The reason their stories are still told is that they trusted God more fully, accepted His freely-offered love, and opened their lives profoundly to His grace.  Their story can be yours as well, for the Bible calls every believer in Christ a “saint.” The apostle Paul interceded for every man or woman who has ever trusted the grace of Jesus: “I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge” (Eph 3:18-19). Your behavior may be far from perfect. Your faith may waver in the tough moments. Your heart may tell you that God is far away and usually unhappy with you, but “God is greater than our hearts, and He knows everything” (1 John 3:20).  The best news is that grace changes everyone who trusts in Jesus into a saint. You are defined, not by how well you love God, but how deeply He loves you. Your value is determined, not by what you give or how heroically you serve, but by the price heaven paid to rescue you, and make you a saint.  So stay in grace. -Bill Knott

We can't make ourselves more loveable to God by years of good behavior. And yet, because of grace, we seek to do what pleases Him. We can't earn even half an hour in heaven by acts of sympathy or kindness. And yet, because of grace, we spend unnumbered hours caring for the least of all His little ones. Those shining moments when we sometimes rise to our potential don't make us even one bit more beloved by God. His love for us cannot be amplified, expanded, or improved. Grace cancels everything we think we've earned, and makes us utterly rely on everything God gives us. It is the end of all our goodness, and the place where faith begins. Abandon hope in all you've done, but deeply trust what God has done. And stay in grace. Bill Knott

No one can grasp the grace of God unless God teaches him, embraces him, and holds him in an unexpected kindness. There's no intellect so vast; there's not a mystic so devout that he can plumb the depth of love by private contemplation. “My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the Lord. “And My ways are far beyond anything you could imagine” (Isa 55:8). Only the mind of God could Father-forth the grace of God. Only the Son who fully knows God's mind could satisfy His justice and still manifest His love. Only the Spirit, moving softly in our hearts, could teach us of the height, the depth, the breadth—the strength—of love that will not let us go. The cleverest among us must learn: the genius must be taught. The keenest mind will still confess, “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand!”(Psa 139:6). That's why we linger on our knees. We bow before the mystery that always chooses to invite us, to correct us, to forgive us, and redeem us. We marvel that God loves us when we're broken—that He still seeks us when we run away. Like toddlers playing hide-and-seek, we are discovered in plain sight. There is no depth from which He cannot lift us, and no place He will not go. We are amazed by grace we never fully understand. But we receive. And stay in grace. Bill Knott

The gospel is only as good as the God who asks us to believe it. If He's the disappointed, vengeful deity we have pictured in our frightened imaginations, then we do well to hide, to stay away: why would we risk ourselves with Him? But if Christ is, as His Word says, the Lord whose love for us survives even our worst choices and most defiant behaviors, then we may crawl out from beneath the bed and step out from the shadows. When I am loved at my lowest and embraced even at the height of my foolishness, then I can safely trust myself to grace. “By grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God” (Eph 2:8). I now believe in Him who has always—unequivocally—believed in me. So here I'll stand—and stay in grace. -Bill Knott

A muscular young athlete, bench-pressing massive iron; stonemasons, deeply-focused, chiseling the capstone for a tall cathedral spire; a driven young executive, burning midnight oil as she assesses market data. What do these pictures have in common? All celebrate intense, prodigious effort, spent to take the doer to the top in sport, in craftsmanship, in business. Our world's awash in images like these: they are the icons of our functional religion. We learn so early to depend on no one else's effort. Faith, we say, is chiefly what you think about yourself. And so we are unsettled by the unexpected gospel: “It is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast” (Eph 2:8-9). When there is nothing we can do; when “all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death”; when we at last despair of scaling heaven by our sweat or skill or passion, grace given us in Jesus speaks for us, embraces us, and binds us to the heart of God. Grace honors only trust, and welcomes only gratitude. So stay in it. -Bill Knott

It's not called “practicing” for nothing. On some great future day, the liberating, life-affirming grace we each receive from Jesus will also be the grace we give as freely to those who wound us, irritate our peace, or call out for our love and care. Between the “now” and “then” there's a lot of practicing to do—a daily repetition of kind words, forgiving acts, and chosen, holy silences. Like hours we spent as children with pianos, violins, and flutes, we learn the patterns of the Jesus life—not all at once, but with increasing Spirit-skill. On many days, we get the fingering all wrong: we point unrighteously at those who really need our grasp and our embrace. But just because the grace that saves us keeps on saving us from us, we build up skills in loving, holding, healing, helping. Great music—gracious music—is never perfect on day one. Keep practicing. And stay in grace. -Bill Knott

If you've ever been forgiven; if you've been held when you were wrong, or bitter, or confused—you know the grace that never can repay the giver.  So we surrender to the goodness God implants in human hearts. “We know how dearly God loves us, because He has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with His love” (Rom 5:5).  We come to understand God's grace when we are loved extravagantly, without apparent cause, and with no expectation of response. We vow with everything within that we will love as we've been loved—without return; without reward; just for the Lord.  This “common grace” is strikingly uncommon, but always welcome, always valued, and indelibly remembered. “Dear friends, let us continue to love one another, for love comes from God. Anyone who loves is a child of God and knows God” (1 John 4:7). The grace that reached to you now reaches from you to the loveless, the careless, and the thoughtless.  Grace never was for you alone.  Keep giving grace.  And it will stay with you. -Bill Knott

“When I'm deep in a hole, lower a rope, not a shovel.” The last thing we need when we've dug ourselves profoundly into pain or confusion or sin is more of the same. Our best efforts got us there: our best efforts won't deliver us. The pit only gets deeper—and so does our frustration. As Scripture says, “There is a way that appears to be right, but in the end it leads to death” (Prov 14:12). Rescue only comes from above—from Someone who both sees our plight and can do something to change it. God's Word reveals that Jesus fully understands how desperate our condition is—and He—uniquely—can change the ending of our story: “This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for He faced all of the same testings we do, yet He did not sin. So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive His mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most” (Heb 4:15-16). Common sense can tell us to stop digging. Wisdom urges us to accept the grace that doesn't leave us where we are. “He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along. He has given me a new song to sing, a hymn of praise to our God” (Psa 40:2-3). Let yourself be lifted. And stay in grace. -Bill Knott

It's a scene played out 10 million times in the 30 days since Christmas: “You shouldn't have . . .” “But I didn't get you anything. . .” “I didn't hear we were exchanging gifts . . .” A stranger from another planet might conclude that our annual Christmas gift-giving is actually an exquisite balancing act—designed to keep each party from feeling awkward for having received an unreciprocated gift. We desperately dislike the sense that accepting kindness creates an obligation we must rapidly erase. Thus every January we work diligently to restore the “giving equilibrium.” We send overnight parcels, repurposed fruitcakes, and texts that wonder how our long-planned gift was so “delayed” in the delivery system. We were busy; overwhelmed; “things slipped our memory.” But grace is truly, freely, and persistently a gift—and not a trade we make with God by which He offers us salvation and we offer Him good behavior. The Bible couldn't be clearer: “So we praise God for the glorious grace He has poured out on us who belong to His dear Son. He is so rich in kindness and grace that He purchased our freedom with the blood of His Son and forgave our sins. He has showered His kindness on us, along with all wisdom and understanding” (Eph 1:6-8). If it's really grace, you will always feel awkward about your inability to give God something comparable. Get used to it. And stay in grace. -Bill Knott

That impulse in our souls to pray—to find our knees; to stammer out the words—grows from an early, dim awareness of just how much we need the grace of God. We pray because we cannot fix our world or ourselves. We kneel because we're powerless to heal sick children, pay the bills, or mend unhealthy marriages. We call out as we weep for all the clash between our living and God's giving. And even that first impulse is itself a gift of grace: “For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered” (Rom 8:26). To pray is to align with grace—to ask for and invite “the Love that will not let us go” to have more sway, more rule, more reach, more play. And so the simplest prayers are always best: “Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner” unblocks the flow of saving grace that restores lives and reforms nations. What we call grace is simply letting God do what has always been His joy to do: love us, hold us; heal us; keep us. We are latecomers to His kindness. Grace precedes our first impulse to seek it. Now stay in it. -Bill KNott

Like all the stories Jesus told, this one comes very close to home. We justly celebrate the prodigal. He finds himself among the pigs, then soberly concludes that he should go back home. And we deplore that bitter brother whose body never left the farm, but whose hard heart had left the Father long ago. Unlike each other as they seem, both shared a common malady. Neither prized the love that gave them birth, that nurtured them 10,000 days, that waited—on the porch and at the table—to see if love would change their lives. Misunderstanding grace is not related to how far you roam. This story proves that you can miss it, even if you stay at home.  Of Jesus, Scripture testifies that “He came and preached peace to you who were far away and peace to those who were near. For through Him we both have access to the Father by one Spirit. Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with God's people and also members of His household” (Eph 2:17-19). Grace offers us a family, even when our stories are miles apart. The waiting Father's heart of love still calls each of His children home. Heed the call to join the feast. And stay in grace. -Bill Knott

The diet lasts a dozen days. The treadmill hasn't spun 10 miles. The Bible sits where it was left, unopened and unsavored.  We grieve the effortless unraveling of all the goals we wanted to achieve—to lose the weight; increase the steps; find hope and quiet in God's Word.   We are too close to dreams undone, to lofty visions gone awry. So how does God address our lack of grit and gratitude?  “I will be faithful to you and make you Mine, and you will finally know Me as the Lord,” God says (Hosea 2:20). “He knows our frame,” the psalmist says. “He remembers we are dust” (Psa 103:14). And so Christ came, to walk our dust, to know our pain, to understand how irresolute we are.  “This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for He faced all of the same testings we do, yet He did not sin” (Her 4:15). Grace always moves toward us, redeems our goals, and tells us we are loved.  We fall in step with One who holds us when we stumble.  He is resolved when we are not, and faithful when we wander. Receive His strength.  And stay in grace. -Bill Knott

This painful year has made us clear on what we want for Christmas. Though Lexus and Mercedes-Benz are sure we want a gleaming ride with giant ribbons on the roof, we have no miles we want to drive. The ads all tease us with dark fantasies on Amazon or Netflix, but we still have our darkness to get through. The tech toys that we bought for sport have only one compelling use this year. We want each other more than gifts. We want the long and lingering embrace of two-year olds who won't let go; the bear hug from a distant friend; the real gatherings of real folk around a tree, a table, or a fire. We want the laughter never muted, carols sung by families on nights no longer silent. We want the deep security we find in holding, playing, eating with the ones we love in places we call home. So Christ came down because He couldn't bear the breach of space; the distance numbered in light-years; the loving words half-understood. He came to us in helplessness so we might know He needed love—our love, the warmth for which He fashioned us. He laid aside His rulership so that a two-year old could grip Him tight; a mother's tears could turn to joy, and bitter, broken men could heal. He came to make the lepers dance; to be the face the blind first saw; to hear the deaf sing harmony. His joy is us: we are the only gift He wants. Accept the grip of His embrace. And stay in grace. -Bill Knott

Ten thousand earnest Christmas pageants offer us some cherub child, dressed as an angel, stepping forth to utter words that sound well-nigh impossible. “Fear not,” he says, “for behold I bring you tidings of great joy.” (Luke 2:10). “Fear not?” we think, but never say. “Does God not know our real lives?” That declaration echoing through centuries has shaped how many think of God. We think He's chiding us for being quite normally afraid of that which ought to terrify—a brilliant light; an other-worldly stranger shouting in the night; the loudest, largest choir Earth has ever heard. Now hear what that sweet angel really said: “You can stop being afraid now.” For fear quite naturally results when humans meet the otherness of God and those He sends to share good news. The birth of Jesus was the broadcast we have all been waiting for: we need no longer be afraid. Whatever views we've held of God; whatever fears have made us doubt His kindness or His goodness, Jesus is the living proof that there's no reason to continue in our fear. This Christmas, thank God for the grace that lights our midnights and will calm each anxious fear. You can stop being afraid now. And stay in grace. -Bill Knott

It isn't only doubters who bemoan the passing year. Believers also crouch against the onslaught of the news. Tragic wars that never end; the end of good and gentle folk; the dull monotony of pain that robs our midnight of its sleep. And one more baby, born into a world where thousands never see one week.  But here we witness Heaven's great surprise. In weakness was obscured great strength. That fragile child—He once threw galaxies around, and knows their numbers, range and size. The painful moment of His birth let loose a tide of healing that forever changed the meaning of our pain and how we get through midnights. He laid His hands upon the broken; He overturned the fortunes of the greedy; and in His name, a thousand tyrants fled into the night. Because He lived—because He lives—our mangled world began, at last, to breathe again, to hope again. For sake of grace, the dread of God—or many gods—became as Heaven wanted it, a friendship rich with joy and light. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). This Christmas, let the hope once born with Jesus raise your heart and calm your fears. This Child we celebrate is still the Lord—the Master of uncounted years. And stay in grace. -Bill Knott

An old regulation from the era when most people traveled by train included this puzzling requirement: “When two trains approach a crossing both shall stop, and neither shall go ahead until the other has passed by.” The long-ago rule is, of course, a prescription for neither movement nor change. But it sounds just like the ways we all behave when we find ourselves in conflict with someone: neither of us will move until the other has moved first.  Nations face off with arsenals of bristling armaments; religious groups invoke mutual condemnations for differing beliefs; spouses live in icy tension, waiting for the other to thaw.  In His mercy, God didn't wait for us to move first. “God showed His great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners” (Rom 5:8). Before we ever had a righteous thought or even wanted to be reconciled to God, Jesus offered Himself as the initiator, the peacemaker, the One who would move first.  Grace always moves first. God doesn't wait for our apologies or repentance to step forward with forgiveness and embrace. The love and joy we crave is always moving toward us.  When it reaches you, receive it.  And stay in grace. -Bill Knott

It is likely the oldest question humanity has ever asked: “What must we do to perform the works of God?”   And for millennia, honest, searching people have provided their own answers to the question. Magnificent temples and cathedrals have been built; exquisite liturgies have been composed; amazing acts of kindness have unfolded—all in the hope God would be pleased with the work, the toil, the effort, the prayers.   But when the question was put to the One whom the Bible calls the Son of God, “Jesus answered them, ‘This is the work of God, that you believe in Him whom He has sent'”(John 6:29). He who flung the galaxies for joy, who holds this tiny blue-green planet in His warm embrace—He doesn't need our sweat and toil. What brings Him happiness is when we choose—in love, through grace, with gratitude—to place our trust in heaven's greatest gift: “God sent His Son into the world not to judge the world, but to save the world through Him” (John.3.17). Grace moves us to believe, and only then, to act. What work we do through faith in Christ grows from our gratitude.  So stay in grace. -Bill Knott

“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul.” The poet's words from long ago ring true each dawn. It may be finches perching on the feeder; it might be pigeons cooing on some ledge; it could be sparrows clustered on an edge. But somehow, with the rising light, our spirits rise as we discover that God's world is moving, warming, singing once again. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). Against the midnight of our fears, we hear the Lover of our souls: “Not a single sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it. . . . So don't be afraid; you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows” (Matt 10:29, 31). Grace sings because hope is embedded in our hearts. The God who formed us planted a great yearning for redemption deep within—a core belief that we may yet find joy and song by leaning forward to His day. Step into light. Pick up the tune. God gave us hope: His name is Jesus. And stay in grace. -Bill Knott

We are not alone . . . Depending on how you see the universe, that thought could bring you comfort—or deep terror. If you view everything beyond your fence as threat, as something to be feared, you'll spend your days defending only what you already have and what you've previously learned. But if, through grace, you can be open to a world where love and beauty grow and blossom, you will taste joy—the joy for which God made you. “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good tidings, who publishes peace, who brings good tidings of good, who publishes salvation, who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns'” (Isa 52:7). Grace is a declaration that we have been befriended by the One who rules the universe. The greatest Other who ever was became one of us, one with us, one on our side. “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). Jesus is the living proof that we are not alone, and never need be so again. So stay in grace. -Bill Knott

The mystery is that grace still finds us, hidden well beneath the cellar stairs—angry, broken, sinful, sad. When we've crawled into our painful cave to lick our wounds or plot revenge, we hear the footsteps on the stair. We hear the sound of Jesus' gentle laughter: “You can stop being afraid now. All-y, all-y—yes—in free!” The games are finally over. When grace comes seeking you, there's no more need to hide. What's wounded starts to heal. Your past all gets forgiven. The lonely all get friended. Today, get found: step out into the light. Enjoy the life you've always sought. And stay in grace. -Bill Knott

Nothing in all the world is as wonderful as a gift. It may be the sunrise, wrapped in rose and gold, delivered to our eastern window. It may be the stick-figure drawing by a three year-old that bears the ribbon, “I love you, Mommy.” It may be the unexpected offer of the trip we've always dreamed of, to that place we sense has always been our home. Gifts make us conscious of the love beyond ourselves—the deep, rich kindness in the heart of God. “For there is no distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by His grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus” (Rom 3:22-24). What but our foolish pride could keep us from enjoying God's good gift? It's not our worthiness that matters: it is His great, untiring love that moves Him to keep giving. “God saved you by His grace when you believed. And you can't take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done” (Eph 2:8-9). So open up your hands, your heart. Receive the grace Christ offers. And stay in it. -Bill Knott

As four-year olds, we squabble over things we say that we deserve—first down the slide; the largest piece of chocolate cake; the undivided attention of our parents. At fourteen, we insist that we deserve at least what others have—a new smartphone; the latest gaming platform; a curfew later than our siblings. By 44, we vie for corner offices; subordinates who do our bidding; a happiness we assume is ours by right or through hard work. But in our hearts, we know the truth: we don't want what our lives deserve. The litter of bad choices swirls through our hollow claims. The memories of mistakes everyone knows—and those nobody knows—belie our claims to honor and to fame. The apostle Paul spoke truth for all of us: “I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. I want to do what is right, but I can't” (Rom 7:18). And though God's Word reveals unflattering truth about our real lives, it offers unexpectedly good news about what's offered us. “For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom 6:23). Don't claim what you deserve. Accept the grace you're given. And stay in it. -Bill Knott

Before we ever learn to speak or find some syllables of thought, we learn that how we're loved depends on how we live. As infants, we adapted to what brought us comfort and attention. As teens, we found affection best by mimicking what offered hope of friendship. And though we've grown in years and size, we still build contracts meant to bring us love. The world teaches us that love comes with conditions.  Just here the gospel shines so bright: “But because of His great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved” (Eph 2:4-5). God's care for us is not proportionate to our good thoughts or choices. He doesn't wait for our  best lives before He offers His embrace. “God sent His Son into the world not to judge the world, but to save the world through Him” (John 3:17). And even when we get it wrong, His love won't be deflected. We cannot earn what He so gladly gives. We cannot lose the love we never caused. Now stay in grace. -Bill Knott

Every day beside the Jordan, can you hear the “hallelujahs”? Can you hear the joy of angels in their vast, euphoric choir as you give your life—again—to Jesus and walk down into the water? Can you feel the hug of heaven as you leave your past behind you—leave your sins and all your merits, held by grace and grace alone? Can you hear the words cascading: “This one's Mine, My lovely child, of whom I'm so greatly proud”? Do you sense the great affection of the Father who will not be turned away by sin—in your past, your now, your future? Ah, the washing, the renewing that restores a dry disciple! Spend some moments, washed and steadied, in the sand beside the river, hearing heaven's affirmation of your choice to follow Jesus. Jordan's bank is sacred space. Come here often: stay in grace. – Bill Knott

Grace is rarely just a moment; more often, a long season; and ideally, your forever reality. We focus on the moment when a person comes to faith in Christ as though that were the starting of the story: “I was saved at 6:14 p.m., on Sunday night, May 5.” But we at length discover how our eyes were truly opened—how the Spirit had been softening our hearts, erasing our old prejudices, and nudging us toward faith—all to bring about that moment of decision. All that God did was surely grace—before we ever came to “Yes!” And starting points are never all the journey, important as they are. By staying in His grace, we find the power of Jesus to both save us and to change us—to take away the guilt-stained past, and keep us from much future foolishness and pain. Grace working over time is just as fully undeserved—and unexpected—favor as that sweet moment when we welcomed Christ and all He gives. “He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ” (Phil 1:6). Grace is the word that best describes a forever friendship with Jesus. So stay in it. -Bill Knott

We search for friends with whom to share the deepest joys we know. Our happiness is multiplied by those who join our gladness. But friendship rests on more than witty fun or shared experience. We form a kind of covenant that pledges virtues we can't naturally produce: “I'll stay with you through hard times. I'll hear you when you're sad. I'll walk with you in silence—when you need no extra words.” These are the qualities of grace—a grace we only learn by witnessing the love that comes from God. Left to ourselves, our friendships would deteriorate, for pride and ego never last. “And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them” (1 John 4:16). “If we love each other, God lives in us, and His love is brought to full expression in us” (1 John 4.11). This giving generosity of God is what we know as grace. And when we share it with our peers, we watch relationships expand, grow deep, and anchor us in storms. The friend who brings you joy is one more evidence of grace. So stay in it. -Bill Knott

At least once a day, we want the truth about ourselves. Whether it's that first, unflattering glimpse of pajamas and tousled hair, or that last, nervous glance in the office washroom before the big job interview, we rely on mirrors to give us unflinchingly honest reflections of what we really look like. A mirror that doesn't reflect reality evokes laughter at a carnival or praises some vain fairytale character. God has a mirror too, and He offers it so we can learn the truth about our real condition. His law—an accurate description of His character and kingdom—shows us how unlike Him we are—the fearsome truth about our vanity; our greed; our hurtful attempts to control and use each other. “No one can ever be made right with God by doing what the law commands,” the Bible tells us. “The law simply shows us how sinful we are” (Rom 3:20).  “Oh, what a miserable person I am!” the apostle Paul exclaimed when he saw his own reflection. “Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death?” (Rom 7:24). Gratefully, Paul answered his own desperate question. “God made Christ, who never sinned, to be the offering for our sin, so that we could be made right with God through Christ” (2 Cor 5:21). Grace is the way God sees us when we put our trust in Jesus. He reflects His Father's image—and His law—perfectly. You're looking better already. So stay in grace. -Bill Knott

Fear builds around us prisons only we can see. We peer out through the bars of damaged memories and foolish choices—walled in by concrete years of dark regrets. And we assume the sentence is for life. But then one day there is a rattling at the door; keys open up a rusty lock. The cell in which we kept ourselves more rigidly than any jail is opened by a word of grace. “Your sins are forgiven you,” says the Lord who vowed to open every prison door. The sentence is commuted, and yes, the record is expunged. “As far as the east is from the west so far does he remove our transgressions from us” (Ps 103:12). We walk out in the light of grace—amazed at freedom we have never known, and breathing in the oxygen of hope. This is the genius of the gospel, and why this story always liberates. Walk out of fear, but stay in grace. -Bill Knott

The Bible doesn't say, “By grit you have been saved through effort: this is your part. It is your gift to God.” But tragically, many who say they believe in Jesus hold this old falsehood closer than they grasp the truth: “By grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God” (Eph 2:8-9). We strain to earn what Jesus freely gives, all unaware He wants to change our attitudes even more than our behavior. Grace teaches us to trust, and “trust” is yet another word for “faith.” What we give up when we rely on Christ is much more than our taste for fatty foods or hours wasted on the Web: we give up fantasies that sweat and intelligent self-will will ever make us worthy of eternity. The One who cannot lie says “I have loved you with an everlasting love” (Jer 31:3). With such affection, broad and deep, we are encircled and enabled. So stay in grace. -Bill Knott

A hit song many years ago plaintively asked the question on millions of minds: “Will you still love me tomorrow?” The fragility and impermanence of human love has chorused through the centuries—in every culture, in every region. Something in the human heart cannot keep a covenant. Despite romantic wedding decorations and elaborate commitment rituals, we fail to keep our promises to always act with love and care toward even that one person we are most attracted to. Which is why the original Lover of our souls took pains to assure us that His love and grace don't depend on promises as weak as ours. “‘My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the Lord. ‘And My ways are far beyond anything you could imagine'” (Isa 55:8). “For this is how God loved the world: He gave His one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16). The gift of Jesus, sent in grace to take our place, is the enduring sign of God's permanent affection—even for those who reject His love. “God showed His great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners” (Rom 5:8). The answer to our chronic insecurity about love is the song that all who put their faith in Jesus will one day sing: “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!” (Rev 5:12). It's a love that never stops. And it's a song that never ends. So stay in grace. -Bill Knott

“Do you want to be healed?” At first, it seems one of the world's most foolish questions. What person, paralyzed for 38 years, wouldn't leap at any chance for healing and renewal? But Jesus asked it anyway, for grace never overwhelms our choices. Like that long-ago disabled man beside a Jerusalem pool, we each live in the confines of a private prison, often built by foolish choices. Friendships broke under the strain of angry things we said; health was compromised by anesthetics we consumed to hide our physical and emotional pain. Pride kept us distant from the love that would have healed us. But Jesus still goes walking by the pool, quietly repeating His famous question. “‘Come now, let us reason together,' says the Lord: ‘though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool” (Isa 1:18). Grace never demands; never insists; never removes our power to choose. We can, if we wish, remain in our pain. Or we can accept the healing that grace still offers and rise to “walk in newness of life” (Rom 6:4). Rise. Walk. And stay in grace. -Bill Knott

Contented? Not likely. Vast majorities describe themselves as discontented, always seeking for what's missing. Entire industries are engineered for keeping us that way. Algorithms cleverly exploit our fears and passions to keep us always scrolling. News outlets need us anxious about the crises that might happen. And—we're told—we'll be unsettled and unhappy. Inflation will eat up our paychecks; rising tides will claim our coastlands; hackers will discover passwords. So purchase many layers of things to keep yourself protected. Yet God's good Word is always our corrective: “Godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out” (1 Tim 6: 6-7). Grace quiets what has always been our great anxiety—that God will turn His back, will cast us off, will give us only what we have deserved. In Jesus, heaven calmed our deepest fear: “For God sent the Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through Him” (John 3:17). Those who most inhabit grace are always most contented. Mercy shown them soon becomes the mercy they show others. Friendships flourish; families strengthen. Anxious thoughts are quieted by God's enduring promise. Make peace with grace, and you will surely stay in it. -Bill Knott

Deep-seated in each wounded heart is passion to return the hurt, to even the score for how we have been wronged. Our quest for vengeance is as natural as breathing, or thinking—or sinning. We feel the knife-blade of the cutting words; the dull ache of abandonment; the body blow of assaults upon our character. And sooner than we can imagine any other option, we poison-tip the arrows of our vengeance. It takes no effort—at all—to summon bitter words and deeds. Our tongues grow sharp; our hearts grow narrow; our bodies energize with hate. And so the gospel of grace speaks to this most painful human reaction: “Be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another,” the Apostle Paul invites us, “just as God through Christ has forgiven you” (Eph 4:32). “Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone,” he says. “Forgive as the Lord forgave you” (Col 3:13). Only the God who forgave us from the abundance of His grace can teach us to forgive with grace. No other ethic than His love will heal our wounds and make us leave revenge behind. Grace is God's healing for our wounds. We need not keep on wounding others. So stay in grace. -Bill Knott

Social media memes and reels solemnly declare that the hardest three words to say are the words “I love you.” Acknowledging our affection and commitment to another person—spouse, parent, child, or friend—is a moment of great vulnerability, and for some, even difficulty. And yet, the phrase is emblazoned on millions of T-shirts, shouted on billions of greeting cards, and declared in hundreds of TV shows and movies. But if you asked, “Which three words are heard least frequently?” they would undoubtedly be, “I was wrong.” We can all imagine at least some advantages in saying “I love you.” There's almost never an advantage in admitting our mistakes, our faults, our brokenness. So God has wonderfully prepared the way for us to “come clean” with Him by assuring us ahead of time of His unending love and affection for us. “I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness” (Jer 31:3), He says. And He teaches us that we may safely, confidently, bring to Him all our sins and foolish pride: “If we confess our sins to Him, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness” (1 John 1:9). It will never be easy to say, “I was wrong.” But because of Jesus' sacrifice for us, grace gives us words that heal our broken relationships—with God and with each other. So stay in grace. -Bill Knott

When the last kind word has vanished from our lips; When the last rich gift has left our bank account; When the last abandoned child has finally found a home—we still need grace.   When the hymns we sing are clear and sweet; When we serve with fervor in the job we're given; When we've prayed for every relative we know—we still need grace.   The good things grace inspires us to do will not reduce our need for grace. “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them” (Eph 2:8-10).   The gift of God, made freely through His Son, is never made unnecessary by how we live beyond. In Jesus' famous parable, the ones who work from dawn, and those who start near dusk, all get the same reward.   So we confess—if we are young in faith or long upon our knees—that only Christ's redeeming act ensures our destiny. There is no better gift than grace—to give or to receive.   So stay in it. -Bill Knott

When we've been wounded by the spitefulness of others, it's grace that quiets our reactive hearts and calms our angry tongues. We remember being forgiven, and so we can imagine offering forgiveness. The grace that reconciled us to God becomes the opening that makes new reconciliations thinkable.   The foolish cycle of retaliation need not take another turn, for Jesus has absorbed the weight of all our anger, sin and pain. A new day dawns in which forgiveness warms and brightens all we know. Grateful for love that changed our lives, we pray that others also change, find peace, experience forgiveness. So forgiving comes to be our way of living, and grace leads on to grace.   So stay in grace. -Bill Knott

The great illusion at the heart of our unhappiness is the fantasy that we can solve our brokenness and foolishness. A hundred self-help manuals urge us to discover new, untapped potential; find our core of optimism, rise above the litter of past choices. If even one of these vain remedies really worked, the bookstores would be empty, and people everywhere would be living warm, productive, joyful lives. But we continue fumbling in the bargain bin of last year's over-hyped, self-centered strategies, while Jesus offers just one word. “Come,” He says. “Come away and rest awhile.” “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be like snow.” “A new heart I will give you, and a new spirit I will put within you.” There are no better promises than these. There is no answer for our pain that heals us like God's word of grace. Our rescue always comes from outside and above. So stay in grace. -Bill Kknott

Sometimes it seems all humanity is obsessed with removing stains from clothing, teeth, and even furniture. Ten thousand products invoke our shame if teeth are not their “whitest white,” if clothes are not their “brightest bright,” or guests discover “unsightly carpet stains.” Some thoughtful souls have wondered if our fascination with removing dirt that can be seen reflects our gnawing fear that we will never be free from stains no one can see—the soiled conscience, the unwashed heart, the muddied choices of a lifetime.  Only one remedy has proved effective in cleansing what only God can see: “Come now, let us reason together,” says the Lord: “though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool” (Isa 1:18). “And since we have a great High Priest who rules over God's house, let us go right into the presence of God with sincere hearts fully trusting Him. For our guilty consciences have been sprinkled with Christ's blood to make us clean, and our bodies have been washed with pure water” (Heb 10:21-22). The historic quest for inner purification, for purging the memory of foolish choices and polluted deeds, isn't a task within our grasp. We can never “clean up our act.” Only God's act of grace will do. An old gospel song still says it best: What can wash away my sin? Nothing but the blood of Jesus; What can make me whole again? Nothing but the blood of Jesus. Let Jesus do what only He can do. And stay in grace. -Bill Knott