Alistair Begg Daily Devotional

Glorifying God in Our Bodies

Alistair Begg — Sun, 26 Apr 2026 06:00:00 -0456

“It is my eager expectation and hope that I will not be at all ashamed, but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death.”

Philippians 1:20

Your body, and what you do with it, matters.

More than once in his writings, the apostle Paul expresses great concern about people’s bodies. He asks the Corinthians, for instance, “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God?” He then goes on to say, “You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body” (1 Corinthians 6:19-20). In other words, our bodies belong to the God who created them and who sustains them. This way of thinking is at the heart of Paul’s theology.

Paul found great joy in knowing that Jesus would be honored, or exalted, in his own body. It was his chief aim and prayer that in his ministry he would possess courage and faithfulness to do this. For Paul, to exalt Christ meant to make much of His great name: to give Him glory. We see this attitude expressed by John the Baptist, who said of Jesus, “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30). Similarly, you’ll never find Paul drawing attention to himself. He saw himself only as a conduit leading to Christ.

It comes as no surprise, then, that when he wanted to establish his credentials as an apostle, Paul didn’t say, “Let no one cause me trouble” just because he was a mighty apostle or because he was used by God to preach the gospel. No—he said, “Let no one cause me trouble, for I bear on my body the marks of Jesus” (Galatians 6:17, emphasis added). Through his body, his commitment was revealed. He was increasingly abused for his devotion to Christ. He finally went to his grave scarred, brutalized, and disfigured—yet through his trials, his cry remained “I will rejoice.”

God was Lord over Paul’s whole life: his body, his time, his totality. Only that could bring him such joy. Only that can bring us such joy.

The bottom line is that you are not your own. Nothing you have is your own. Everything is a stewardship, whether God has given you much or little. You belong to God, your Creator and your Redeemer. One day, He will raise us with glorified, imperishable bodies (1 Corinthians 15:42-44, 51-54). For the moment, in this life He calls us to serve Him in this body. In everything you do with it, then, let your body be an offering that you joyfully lay before God.

Going Deeper: 1 Corinthians 6:12–20

Devotional material is taken from the Truth For Life daily devotionals by Alistair Begg, published by The Good Book Company, thegoodbook.com. Used by Truth For Life with permission. Copyright © 2021, 2022, The Good Book Company.

Mercy for the Blind

Alistair Begg — Sat, 25 Apr 2026 06:00:00 -0456

“When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!””

Mark 10:47

Blind Bartimaeus sat in complete blackness. He could hear the crowd, the movement, the jibber-jabber of people speaking. He could hear the hullabaloo that signaled that Jesus of Nazareth was somewhere out there in the darkness, but he was unable to see Him. Recognizing that this might be his only chance to get Jesus’ attention, in desperation he shouted out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”

The simplicity and clarity of Bartimaeus’ request was a testimony to his faith; it indicated that he actually believed that Jesus was able to do what he was asking. By God’s grace, blind Bartimaeus saw what countless others had missed: he saw that in Jesus he could find God’s mercy. And when Jesus then addressed his need, Bartimaeus and all who observed the encounter understood that his faith was the reason for his cure. But Bartimaeus never made the mistake of thinking that all he really needed was his physical sight. That is why, as soon as he received his sight from Jesus, he “followed him on the way” (Mark 10:52).

In this encounter we see a microcosm of the whole gospel. The Bible often uses blindness as a metaphor for the predicament of men and women. For example, the apostle Paul says, “The god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ,” (2 Corinthians 4:4); and Jesus Himself said, “I came into this world, that those who do not see may see” (John 9:39). And earlier in Mark’s Gospel, we read that even though the disciples were following Jesus, they still did not see and understand all that He was teaching them, so He asked, “Having eyes do you not see, and having ears do you not hear?” (Mark 8:18).

How, then, are the blind made to see? Just as Bartimaeus was: by going to Jesus and calling out to Him for mercy, asking for the loving forgiveness and new life that only He can provide. You will never know Jesus Christ as a reality in your life until you know Him as a necessity. That is a truth we needed to grasp in order to enjoy the first day of our new life following Him; but it is also a truth we need to remember in order to go on through our lives still following Him. In whatever way you require mercy right now, look at Him with the God-given eyes of faith and simply ask. The good news is that Jesus still hears, Jesus still cares, Jesus still stops, Jesus still listens, and Jesus still saves.

Going Deeper: Mark 10:46–52

From Sadness to Gladness

Alistair Begg — Fri, 24 Apr 2026 06:00:00 -0456

“He showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples were glad when they saw the Lord.”

John 20:20

The first Easter did not look like a typical Easter celebration.

Before Jesus’ resurrection was discovered, the day was marked by tears, devastation, and bewilderment—not joy, hope, and praise. The disciples were gathered out of fear, to protect one another, not to sing “Christ the Lord is risen today, Alleluia!”[1] They sat in sadness; their story had come to a grinding halt, with the next page blank.

Or so they thought.

The Bible does not attempt to deny or idealize the grief felt by Christ’s followers after His crucifixion. They didn’t understand what had happened, and they certainly didn’t know what would happen next. Their sadness reveals humanity’s limitations in knowing the bigger picture. Despite the Old Testament prophecies and Jesus’ own foretelling of His death (Mark 8:31; 9:31; 10:33-34), John’s Gospel tells us that they “as yet did not understand the Scripture, that he must rise from the dead” (John 20:9). They didn’t understand that when Jesus said from the cross, “It is finished” (19:30), He was not expressing defeat but declaring victory.

This victory meant resurrection. And as the resurrected Savior came to the disciples in their darkness, fear, and sadness, He brought transformation. Their unbelief turned to belief and their sadness to gladness. That gladness was rooted in the fact that they understood that Jesus had risen from the dead. Their faith and their future returned and were rooted in this wonderful reality. The darkness of their despair made the light of the resurrection all the more glorious.

If you are looking for a god that will just make you glad, you shouldn’t look for the God of the Bible. He does make us glad—more so than anyone or anything else—but He often starts by making us sad. We are saddened by this broken world, saddened by our own sin, saddened that on the cross Jesus died for our wickedness, disobedience, and disinterest. It is only through truly feeling such sorrow that we can fully understand the gladness that comes with our account being settled, our debt being paid, and our wrongs being forgiven.

We can know the gladness of a love that loves us even though we are not worthy of it—that loves us when we don’t want to listen. What kind of love is this? It is the love of God for men and women, for you and me! Today, look away from yourself and look at Him. This is love, and when we know we are loved in this way, we are able to see the healing in the harm and that sadness can be the soil in which eternal gladness grows. About which part of your life—perhaps a part full of pain, or regret, or anxiety—do you need to hear this today? Remember that whatever you are walking through, it remains true that Christ the Lord is risen. Hallelujah!

Going Deeper: John 20:19–23

Footnotes:

[1] Charles Wesley, “Christ the Lord Is Risen Today” (1739).

Life Will Flow to All

Alistair Begg — Thu, 23 Apr 2026 06:00:00 -0456

“The circumference of the city shall be 18,000 cubits. And the name of the city from that time on shall be, The Lord Is There.”

Ezekiel 48:35

The best is yet to come.

The Israelites had been in exile for six decades when Cyrus of Persia came to power in the 6th century BC. Soon after, the king allowed some of the Israelite captives to return to their previous home. With great hope and anticipation, Ezra and Nehemiah journeyed back and led the people in rebuilding the temple and the walls of Jerusalem.

The number of returned exiles was small, and they faced significant opposition. They were successful in their endeavors, but they were by no means triumphant. In fact, the older, wiser people wept when they laid the foundations of the temple, because they knew it would not meet the grand expectations of the prophets (Ezra 3:10-12).

The longings of those who wept reflected Ezekiel’s final prophecy, which contained this great hope: a new temple would someday be built in a greater Jerusalem. It would be more magnificent than the first temple had ever been, and God would preside in the immense structure, from which a river would flow, giving eternal life to the world (see Ezekiel 40 – 48).

The Israelites knew that what they were building wasn’t the temple Ezekiel had prophesied. It didn’t quite fit. Nor was the homecoming from Babylon the great exodus about which the prophets had spoken. They were left looking beyond their own city and the rebuilt temple. Ultimately, Ezekiel was prophesying about the coming kingdom of God, which was beyond his comprehension.

In the book of Revelation, John describes a vision of heaven that provides a different sight: the church in the kingdom of God. God’s plan was never limited only to the Israelites; it includes so much more. He is determined to completely undo the effects of sin and renew the whole world. Once again, mankind will know what it means to live continually in His presence, in the city called “The LORD Is There.” God will be in our midst, and from Him life will flow to all: “I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God … I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb. And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb” (Revelation 21:2, 22-23).

Like the Israelites before us, we live looking forward. We lean towards the future in expectation of the return of the King and the completion of His salvation. We will join Jesus in His kingdom and experience the joy which comes from being with Him. Do not settle for what this life has to offer, nor grow despairing over the disappointments of the here and now. Our best days lie ahead of us, in the city of God.

Going Deeper: Ezekiel 47:1–12

The Path of Unbelief

Alistair Begg — Wed, 22 Apr 2026 06:00:00 -0456

“Judas, who betrayed him, was standing with them.”

John 18:5

In the Garden of Gethsemane, as the soldiers approached to arrest the man who the Jewish leaders had decided must now die, the central figure was of course the Lord Jesus. But Judas played a key part—and teaches us a hard lesson.

Judas’s betrayal of Christ reveals a deep hypocrisy rooted in a deeper denial. His treachery serves as a warning of how a heart, though seemingly close to God, hardens as it travels down the path of unbelief—a path marked by betrayed trust and corrupt company.

The Garden of Gethsemane was not just any garden. The disciples appeared to know it well. For Jesus and the Twelve it was a place of fellowship, of relaxation, and, doubtless, of many happy memories. And yet it was in this beautiful place that Judas betrayed Christ. It’s quite staggering that he would choose a place of such intimacy in which to perform an act of such infamy, like an adulterer who breaks the marriage bond in their own marriage bed.

Picture Judas walking along the path and leading a group of soldiers and Jewish officials (John 18:3). He who was so dreadfully lost spiritually became a guide: the blind leading the blind. The path of unbelief is a lonely place that often begs for the false comfort of hopeless companionship.

The garden was a beautiful, tranquil place, but it nevertheless witnessed a heinous event. When we think of the places where we’ve been tempted to betray Christ—on a lovely vacation, in the comfort of our homes, even in places where Christ has previously met with us, blessed us, wooed us, and won us—we clearly see our heart’s perversity in our willingness to join Judas in his betrayal.

Let Judas’s example remind us that we must all be on guard. There is no room for complacency in the Christian life, no matter what you have done and seen and no matter what your standing in your church. After all, Judas had lived with Jesus for three years, had seen His miracles, and had heard His teaching. Yet still he betrayed Him. “Therefore let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall” (1 Corinthians 10:12).

How do we remain followers and avoid the tragic path taken by Judas? As the word of God implores again and again, we must beware a slowly growing hard-heartedness that causes us to drift down the path of unbelief. Instead, we need to listen to the Holy Spirit as He guides us. We need to pray that we would find a tenderness in our hearts, an openness in our minds, and a prompting in our spirits telling us, “Now, go ahead and embrace this Christ!”

The hard lesson of Judas is that only by God’s grace can we remain standing. So pray that you would never be found among the traitors: Save me, Lord, from the real temptations to doubt and deny You. Show me the wonder of Your protection and provision, and renew my assurance that You will lose none of those whom the Father has given You.

Going Deeper: John 10:11–30

Chosen by God

Alistair Begg — Tue, 21 Apr 2026 06:00:00 -0456

“In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved.”

Ephesians 1:4–6

In William Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice, the character Portia delivers a soliloquy that illustrates the playwright’s regard for the principles of mercy and forgiveness:

Though justice be thy plea, consider this:
That in the course of justice none of us
Should see salvation. We do pray for mercy.[1]

When considering the doctrine of election—that God “predestined us for adoption”—we need to ask not “Why would God not choose everyone?” but rather “Why would God choose to have mercy on anyone?” The truth is, if justice alone were served, we would all face condemnation, for condemnation is what our sin deserves. Yet in His love for us, God chose that we “should not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16). He did not choose us because of anything in us (which would be the occasion for pride in ourselves) but simply because of the love that is in Him (which should cause us to praise and worship Him).

One effect that an understanding of our election has on us as Christians is that it compels us to take our sin ever more seriously, for the purpose of Him choosing us is that “we should be holy and blameless before him” (Ephesians 1:4). In other words, while He didn’t choose us because we are holy, we have been chosen in order that we might become holy. There is something dreadfully wrong when a belief in the electing love of God results in our declaring the right to live in any way we choose. In fact, individuals who consistently, continually live in sin yet claim salvation show that they have not understood God or His gospel at all.

By contrast, the evidence that we have been chosen by God, set apart for Him, and ministered to by Him through the Holy Spirit is ultimately seen as we are increasingly conformed to the image of His Son. Growth in moral purity is the ultimate indication of a deep devotion to Jesus Christ. A genuine interest in and wonder at the electing love of God produces in us a conformity to Jesus’ own beauty.

What will we expect to see in the lives of people who truly understand this? Likely not bravado, self-centered talk, or empty defenses of the Christian faith. No—we will see humility coexisting with security, their conversation full of Christ instead of themselves, and lives of joy and sacrifice. That can be, and should be, what you see in yourself, imperfectly but increasingly. And that is what will grow in you to the extent that you say to yourself with a smile and a sense of awe, “It is not that I chose Him; He chose me.”

Going Deeper: Exodus 20:1–21

Footnotes:

[1] William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice, Act 4, Scene 1.

Sovereign Lord, Gentle Shepherd

Alistair Begg — Mon, 20 Apr 2026 06:00:00 -0456

“Behold, the Lord God comes with might, and his arm rules for him; behold, his reward is with him, and his recompense before him. He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms.”

Isaiah 40:10–11

The United States of America has never been keen on sovereigns or their sovereignty. We prefer someone we can vote into a position and call upon as necessary—and vote out when we choose! And if we’re honest, this is often true of our approach to God as well. We prefer to control rather than to be controlled.

God, however, cannot be managed or remade in our image. He is the sovereign Lord, whose existence perfectly contrasts with our human frailty and finite nature. We are like grass and springtime flowers, which wither and fall. It’s not so with God, who has ruled and reigned over everything for all eternity. Even His word stands forever (Isaiah 40:6-8).

In His sovereignty, God has accomplished an amazing conquest: victory over sin and death. In His immense wisdom, He, the Lawgiver, came in the person of Jesus, submitted to and fulfilled the very law He had given, and then died in the place of sinners to pay our debt and give us eternal life. As Peter preached, “God raised him up … because it was not possible for him to be held” by death’s power (Acts 2:24). This is His victory.

While God is the sovereign Lord, though, He is also our gentle Shepherd. He doesn’t come to His people like some great general onto a battlefield; instead, He carries His flock close to Him, leading them with compassion. Those who once were sad, alienated, and guilty, and living in the fear of death have now been set free. Victoriously, He declares, “I kept them in your name, which you have given me. I have guarded them, and not one of them has been lost” (John 17:12).

We can rejoice in God’s sovereignty, for He is both mighty and gentle, the Shepherd seeking to bring in the lost and accomplish His mission. When He’s at work, His voice speaks and the deaf hear, His light shines and the blind see. We have been gathered up to the heart of this gentle Shepherd and can live confident that this world belongs to our sovereign Father.

One challenge in the Christian life is to have a view of God that is big enough: to know Him as both “the LORD God” who “comes with might” and before whom we come with reverent awe, and as the one who “will tend his flock like a shepherd” and whom we follow in intimate friendship. The Lord Jesus is both the Lion and He is the Lamb (Revelation 5:5-6). Which do you find hardest to remember and live in light of? Remember both and you will obey Him and enjoy Him, as both your Sovereign and as your Shepherd.

Going Deeper: Ezekiel 34:11–24

Warnings for Deliverance

Alistair Begg — Sun, 19 Apr 2026 06:00:00 -0456

“Let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall.”

1 Corinthians 10:12

In a biography, both the author as they write and then the readers as they read face a great temptation to gloss over the subject’s faults. Scripture, on the other hand, makes no attempt to conceal or excuse the faults, failures, or sins of its heroes. And it is in the aftermath of spiritual triumph that the potential for defeat often seems to be at its peak.

In a victory of faith, Noah obediently continued, without a drop of rain falling, to build the ark. But after the flood, we read a sorry description of all that Noah allowed to happen in his drunkenness (see Genesis 9:20-27). Abram set out on the journey of faith; however, he then brought disgrace on himself and his family through his lies when he went down into Egypt (12:10-20). David triumphed over Goliath yet later found himself perpetrating adultery (and very possibly rape), murder, and chaos (2 Samuel 11 onwards).

Each of these characters are heroes who achieved great things in the cause of God, and who also failed. They stood tall, and they fell hard. The Bible gives us these examples not as excuses to hide behind but as warnings to deliver us from complacency when things are going well, and from expecting too much of others—and indeed, from expecting too much of ourselves!

The theologian A.W. Pink reminds us, “God suffers it to appear that the best of men are but men at the best. No matter how richly gifted they may be, how eminent in God’s service, how greatly honoured and used of Him, let His sustaining power be withdrawn from them for a moment and it will quickly be seen that they are ‘earthen vessels.’ No man stands any longer than he is supported by Divine grace. The most experienced saint, if left to himself, is immediately seen to be as weak as water and as timid as a mouse.”[1]

Mercifully, God does not leave us to ourselves: He provides us with righteousness, salvation, truth, and His word so that we may not only endure but stand strong amid every trial and temptation. As we recognize within ourselves the same weaknesses and defeats experienced by heroes such as Noah, Abraham, and David, we are able to rely on God’s grace and power to support us through the Lord Jesus, our only true “way of escape” (1 Corinthians 10:13). Let this serve as a reminder that you are continuing in your faith, growing in holiness, or impacting the world for the kingdom not as a result of your strength or intellect or character, but because of God’s grace. The person who truly knows this sees complacency as a grave danger, and sees prayer as an absolute essential, for they know that it is only the Lord who can keep them standing day by day, moment by moment. Do you?

Going Deeper: 1 Corinthians 10:1–13

Footnotes:

[1] The Life of Elijah (Banner of Truth, 1963), p 201.

God Knows Best

Alistair Begg — Sat, 18 Apr 2026 06:00:00 -0456

“O Lord, my heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high; I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me. But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.”

Psalm 131:1–2

The process of weaning a child from his or her mother can be painful, but it’s necessary for healthy development and maturity. In Western culture today, weaning occurs at a young age, before the personality really starts to show. When this psalm was written, the transition away from a mother’s milk would happen much later, around the age of three.

Weaning could therefore be a confusing struggle for a child as he or she learned to go without something they had previously enjoyed. But once weaned, a child would be “calmed and quieted”; they would now understand that provision would still be made, and they would now be able to enjoy time with their mother for its own sake rather than as a means to an end. Not only that, but a weaned child would have learned that their mother knew best, even when a comfort was being withdrawn and the decision looked perplexing from their three-year-old vantage point.

As with a weaned child, it’s important for us as spiritual children to recognize that we don’t always know what’s best for ourselves. We can trust that our Father in heaven knows best. Far too often, though, our proud hearts cause us to question God’s mysterious ways. We demand to know why we are experiencing pain or trouble or loss, but without recognizing that our questions can express arrogance.

Questions are inevitable; they’re part and parcel of the journey. But true contentment is found in learning how to harness our questions. Contentment says, “Even when I can’t understand, still I can trust.” We must be careful that in our pride we don’t demand that the Potter explains why He made the pot the way He did (Isaiah 45:9). The precise will and ways of God are a mystery, but they are always good, for He is our Father.

With the Lord’s help, we can train ourselves to focus on His providence and remind ourselves that our circumstances are temporary, that our Father knows what He is doing in them, and that they cannot rob us of the joy and glory that are ultimately ours in Christ. In this our souls can be still.

In the Christian life, contentment is often gained through an experience of confusion and discomfort, as we learn to say, “My Father is in charge here and is working for my good as His child. I do not need to understand, for I can trust Him. I have Him, and He is enough for me. My soul is calm, even in this storm.” What a wonderful truth to be able to say today!

Going Deeper: Psalm 34

From Fear to Faith

Alistair Begg — Fri, 17 Apr 2026 06:00:00 -0456

“Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord.””

John 20:18

What turns fear to faith?

After Jesus’ crucifixion, the disciples were in complete shambles, dejected and huddled together in fear of persecution. One of them, Judas, was already dead by suicide. Another, Peter, had caved in under pressure and denied Jesus, their leader and teacher, whom they had witnessed being brutally killed. Their hopes and dreams had seemingly died along with Him. Yet just weeks later, this same dejected bunch were on the streets of Jerusalem boldly declaring Jesus as the resurrected Messiah. What turned these men from craven fear to courageous faith? What can make the same change in us? Only the risen Jesus.

The disciples’ Jewish background led them to believe that the Messiah would appear and remain forever. This initially caused them to be crushed by Jesus’ death, for it seemed to mark utter defeat rather than glorious victory. Their shift to confidently proclaiming Jesus as Messiah after His death has only one possible explanation: they must have seen the resurrected Jesus. If they had not, they would have just fondly, or perhaps bitterly, remembered Him as their beloved teacher—but nothing more. What possible forgiveness and hope can be found in a dead man? But with a risen Messiah, suddenly everything changes.

The Bible tells us in firsthand accounts that the disciples encountered the risen Christ (see for instance John 20:11 – 21:23). Some make the argument that the disciples hallucinated, only “seeing” Him because of their all-consuming faith. But remember, they didn’t initially have faith in a resurrection! In fact, Scripture tells us that they sat behind locked doors in fear and disappointment (20:19). And even if they had imagined a risen and reigning Christ, they probably wouldn’t have imagined a Jesus who cooked and ate fish on the beach, who still had scars from His brutal death, and who walked the streets and encountered them in numerous ways. Nor would they have portrayed themselves as so cowardly or included the reports of women (whose testimony was not considered valid in that culture). Rather, they would have presented themselves as the brave and prominent figures who first discovered the empty tomb. Any kind of alternative explanation for the empty tomb demands even more “faith” than trusting in what has been revealed to us in the word of God does.

The resurrection changes everything. We must consider the facts surrounding Jesus’ return from the dead—but we must also consider the glorious good news that it offers us. Without the literal bodily resurrection of Jesus, Christianity is worthless; “Your faith is futile” (1 Corinthians 15:17). But since Jesus has indeed risen and is indeed reigning, then in Him is forgiveness that can be found in no other, and in Him is a future hope like no other. Have you, with the eye of faith, seen the Lord risen and reigning? Then you will, like Mary and like the disciples, see your doubt-filled fear turn to trusting faith as you boldly proclaim this hope to your own heart and to this fearful world.

Going Deeper: John 20:1–18

No Ordinary Death

Alistair Begg — Thu, 16 Apr 2026 06:00:00 -0456

“When Jesus had received the sour wine, he said, “It is finished,” and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.”

John 19:30

The events surrounding Jesus’ death were largely routine motions of Roman jurisdiction. The trials, the beatings, the humiliating procession, and the painful crucifixion were all a part of business as usual for soldiers involved in executing criminals. What wasn’t routine, though, was the darkness that descended over the whole event in the middle of the day (Matthew 27:45), as though God had closed His eyes on the sorrowful scene. This was both a routine execution and the greatest turning point in all eternity.

What made it so important was the identity of the man hanging on the middle cross: none other than God incarnate. Our minds should never cease to be amazed by this:

Well might the sun in darkness hide,
And shut its glories in,
When Christ, the mighty Maker, died
For man the creature’s sin.[1]

Scripture does not place much emphasis on Christ’s physical sufferings on the cross. He surely did suffer grievous physical pain, but “the sufferings of his body were nothing to the sufferings of his soul; these were the soul of his sufferings.”[2] Jesus fully experienced all of the pain and agony of being separated relationally from God the Father—physically, mentally, and spiritually. Whatever you face in your life, know that Jesus has gone through worse and therefore understands how you feel. Not only that, but the unimaginable anguish He endured was for you. Only when the time was right did Christ triumphantly proclaim, “It is finished”—tetelestai: the debt is satisfied and done with.

Christ’s crucifixion is often portrayed with the cross erected high above the onlooking crowd. In reality, though, once the cross was lowered into its setting, His feet were likely very close to the ground. In the same way, Christ’s life, death, and resurrection do not stand high above our lives but intimately close to them. No, Jesus’ death was no ordinary death, but rather a death that promises to give, through faith, true life. Everything changes when we consider all that took place on that cross and say to ourselves:

Wounded for me, wounded for me,
There on the cross He was wounded for me;
Gone my transgression, and now I am free,
All because Jesus was wounded for me.[3]

Going Deeper: Luke 22:7–20

Footnotes:

[1] Isaac Watts, “Alas! and Did My Savior Bleed?” (1707).
[2] George Swinnock, “The Christian Man’s Calling,” in The Works of George Swinnock, M.A.(James Nichol, 1868), Vol. 1, p 194.
[3] W.G. Ovens, “Wounded for Me” (1931).

A Choice to Make

Alistair Begg — Wed, 15 Apr 2026 06:00:00 -0456

“Pilate also wrote an inscription and put it on the cross. It read, “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.””

John 19:19

As Jesus was crucified upon the cross, a sign was inscribed and erected over Him, proclaiming Him to be “the King of the Jews.” While this sign was meant as a taunt, it declared a truth for all to witness: Jesus was and is indeed King! Yet it also should prompt us to ask ourselves: Do I really live as though Jesus is King of my life?

Scripture tells us that the sign was written in three languages—Aramaic, the language of most first-century Jews in and around Jerusalem; Latin, the official language of the Roman Empire; and Greek, the popular language of commerce and culture (John 19:20). In these three languages, witnesses from all across the known world were able to read that Jesus was King. Upon reading the sign, the whole world had to make their choice about who Jesus was to them.

We see a microcosm of that world—and ours—in the range of characters throughout the story of Jesus’ death. In Pilate, we see the proud, indecisive, calculating politician. In the soldiers nailing Christ to His cross, we see those focused on carrying out routine business. In those who mocked the Lord, we see people whose only interaction with the divine is to sneer at Him. In the crowd of passive onlookers, we see those who have no interest at all in eternal matters. But then, amid the darkness, on a neighboring cross we see a desperate and dying thief look to the Savior for hope—and find it. And in Jesus’ nearby family and friends, we see sorrowful but faithful followers standing by Christ and His claims—and witnessing His burial in a tomb that would soon be empty.

All these people saw the sign: Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews. All of them saw the man on the cross beneath it. Whether hateful or hopeful, all beheld this historic event, and all had to reconcile it and the personhood of Christ with their own lives. As the sign hung proclaiming Christ’s kingship, Jesus hung proclaiming the most powerful love the world has known.

The question remains: What are we to do with this love? Each of us can find a face in the crowd with which we identify, be it one of the proud, the passive, or the faithful. All of us are confronted with the life-changing person of Jesus Christ.

How do the cross and the empty tomb affect your relationships, your work, your purpose, or your identity? If Jesus reigns over you, His death and resurrection change everything about the way you live and the meaning of your life. There is hope for eternity and purpose for today in looking at this man and agreeing with that sign. “Jesus is King”—of the Jews and the Gentiles, of the entire world, and of your life and mine.

Going Deeper: Luke 23:32–56

Cowardly Compromise

Alistair Begg — Tue, 14 Apr 2026 06:00:00 -0456

“When the chief priests and the officers saw him, they cried out, “Crucify him, crucify him!” Pilate said to them, “Take him yourselves and crucify him, for I find no guilt in him.” The Jews answered him, “We have a law, and according to that law he ought to die because he has made himself the Son of God.” When Pilate heard this statement, he was even more afraid.”

John 19:6–8

Whose praise will you live for?

When Christ was put on trial before Pilate, the Roman governor repeatedly declared His innocence—and yet he paired his declarations with dreadful acts against Him.

Pilate said, “I find no guilt in him”—and then handed Jesus over to be brutally flogged, a beating so intense that it sometimes caused gashes and lacerations where veins, arteries, and internal organs would be exposed.

Pilate said, “I find no guilt in him”—and then let the soldiers humiliate Jesus with a mock coronation, placing a crown of thorns upon His head, dressing Him up, and scornfully “worshiping” Him.

Pilate said, “I find no guilt in him”—but did he release Jesus? No, he surrendered Jesus to a vicious execution squad to be killed.

There was never a more tormented individual that met Christ than Pilate. Here was a man of great power but who lacked the courage to stand by his convictions. Here was a man of great success but who compromised, showing himself under the trappings of his position to be a coward. Here was a governor who was governed by his own weaknesses.

We cannot be passive or indecisive regarding who Christ is to us. Is He the Savior or is He no one? To abstain from a decision about this, as Pilate sought to do, is to abstain from Christ altogether.

Pilate stands as a challenge to each of us. His conduct compels us to ask ourselves: In what situations do I, like Pilate, know the right thing to do in some way and yet fear what other people will say if I do it? Are there ways in which my words or conduct are governed more by the expectations and reaction of others, or by considerations of wealth, position, or promotion, than by the commands of Christ?

Let’s not compromise on our position regarding Christ. If we let the opinions of our colleagues, our neighbors, or our families concern us too much, we may find ourselves giving up forgiveness, peace, heaven, and Christ Himself in exchange for an easier life now. Instead, let’s be brave.

Look again at Christ: flogged, mocked, and killed out of love for you. Then look at those who, perhaps vociferously or perhaps politely, scoff at His truth. Who would you rather offend? Whose “well done” would you rather hear?

Christ is beckoning us to Him so that we might go out and live for Him. Will you come, and will you go?

Going Deeper: John 19:1–16

Unparalleled Humility

Alistair Begg — Mon, 13 Apr 2026 06:00:00 -0456

“Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. Pilate said to them, “Behold the man!””

John 19:5

There Christ stood—His head pierced with a crown of thorns, dressed up in another’s clothes, forced to hold a reed as a scepter, all in mockery of His kingship—as the Roman governor Pilate declared to the jeering crowd, “Behold the man!” While he spoke those words with scorn in mind, they were ironically appropriate; there stood the Savior of the world, arrayed in unparalleled humility, adorned with a lavish love for the world.

We have much to learn from Christ’s example. As the humble King endured royal ridicule and the “pre-death death” of brutal flogging, He did not utter a word of self-defense. And for what did they condemn Him? For healing a woman who was crippled for 18 years (Luke 13:10-13)? For bringing back to life the widow of Nain’s dead son (Luke 7:11-17)? For bringing Lazarus forth from the grave (John 11:1-44)? For taking children on His knee and encouraging His disciples to understand that “to such belongs the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 19:14)? On what basis did Christ’s accusers find it in themselves to abuse Him in this way? There could be none. But they did it anyway.

When our humble Lord remained silent during His numerous trials, Pilate took offense and felt disrespected. There is great irony here, as this Roman governor attempted to pull rank on the King of the universe! And all the while, that King did nothing to assert His authority or save His own life. He humbly suffered an unjust trial, spoke truth when asked questions, and walked forward even unto death, all on our behalf.

I ask myself: Do I truly see this Man who stands before Pilate, who stands before the crowd—who stands before me? This is not some helpless individual who can do nothing for Himself. This is God incarnate.

Do I understand why He went down this road of humiliation? “Oh, the love that drew salvation’s plan”[1]—love and salvation for you and me! Two millennia ago, there stood a sorry spectacle outside the governor’s palace, in part because Jesus had our names before His gaze—names He had graven on the palms of those hands that would be pierced by the cruel nails (see Isaiah 49:16).

May we never be like the riotous crowd, mocking Christ’s humility, nor like Pilate, looking for Christ to be impressed with us. Instead, behold this Man in all His humility—holding this reed, bearing this crown, wearing this costume, hanging on that cross—and see Him beckoning. Behold the Man, and know beyond all doubt that His love for you knows no end.

Going Deeper: Isaiah 52:13–53:12

Footnotes:

[1] William R. Newell, “At Calvary” (1895).

What Will You Do with Jesus?

Alistair Begg — Sun, 12 Apr 2026 06:00:00 -0456

“My kingdom is not of this world … You say that I am a king. For this purpose I was born and for this purpose I have come into the world—to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth listens to my voice.”

John 18:36–37

What will you do with Jesus? On the morning of what is now known as the first Good Friday, the Jewish religious authorities took Jesus to continue His trial before Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor. We can see in the details of the Gospel accounts how God sovereignly orchestrated all of these events. The Jews’ determination to secure Christ’s death by crucifixion would actually fulfill God’s plan from eternity. God had also planned Christ’s interaction with Pilate. As they stood before one another, Pilate asked significant questions about Jesus’ identity and authority. These questions formed an examination with eternal ramifications—an examination we all must make. Consider how the hymn writer puts it:

Jesus is standing in Pilate’s hall—
Friendless, forsaken, betrayed by all;
Hearken! What meaneth the sudden call?
What will you do with Jesus?

Pilate believed he was holding an examination on a purely intellectual, natural level. But answering the question “Who is Jesus?” is always a spiritual, supernatural matter. Jesus wasn’t a political king, as Pilate believed, but the heavenly King. He essentially told Pilate, My kingdom doesn’t find its origin in this world. The concern of My kingdom is the spiritual transformation that is brought about in the hearts of My people. The reason why I was born as a King was to testify to God’s truth. But Pilate, blind in his unbelief, had already made up his mind. Jaded and disdainful, he sought to avoid the fundamental question we all must ask: “What will I do with Jesus?” But in trying not to answer, he nevertheless gave his answer: I shall reject His claim on me and His rule over me, and therefore His offer to rescue me.

What will you do with Jesus?
Neutral you cannot be;
Someday your heart will be asking,
“What will He do with me?” [1]

Neutral you cannot be. You will either live under Jesus’ rule or you will not. So do not close your Bible in the morning and then live as though this world and its concerns and kings are all that is or all that matters. Do not proceed as though Jesus has no place or interest in your life in this world. He stood friendless and forsaken before Pilate so that you might be welcomed as His friend into His eternal kingdom. There is no option of neutrality—but why would we want there to be?

Going Deeper: John 18:28–40

Footnotes:

[1] Albert B. Simpson, “What Will You Do with Jesus?” (1905).