Insight for Today
A Daily Devotional by Pastor Chuck Swindoll

Judging from the ancient olive grove that can be seen today on the Mount of Olives, the garden of Gethsemane must have been a quiet, fragrant, and lovely place. Scholars of the New Testament believe Jesus and His disciples must have arrived there somewhere between midnight and one o’clock in the morning.

On His last night with His disciples, Jesus celebrated the Passover as devout Jews had been doing for centuries. Appropriately, He used that feast of remembrance to turn their attention to His own approaching death.

What did Christ look like to the men, women, and children who met Him? To be completely honest, probably not much like the images we see in stained-glass windows.

The Cave of Adullam was no Holiday Inn. It was a wicked refugee camp . . . a dark vault on the side of a cliff that reached deeply into a hill. Huddled in this clammy cavern were 400 losers—a mob of miserable humanity. They came from all over and wound up all together.

Like potatoes in a pressure cooker, we twenty-first century creatures understand the meaning of stress. A week doesn't pass without a few skirmishes with those "extrinsic agents" that beat upon our fragile frames.

If you haven't read yesterday's reading, I'd like to ask you to do that. It's crucial that you understand that God has given Christians an extra inner reservoir of power that is more than a match for the stuff life throws at us.

No offense, but some of you don't have any business reading this today. Normally, I do not restrict my words to any special group of people. But now I must. This time it is for Christians only.

As you waved goodbye to your friends at church last Sunday, what mental darts were left stuck in the target of your thinking? Can you remember those pointed challenges from the man who stood before you with Bible in hand?

Gifted evangelist Tom Skinner penned a book with a title that won't let me go: If Christ Is the Answer, What Are the Questions? I like that . . . not only because it's creative, but because it strikes a chord in my soul.

As we've been discussing, there are certain times when it's necessary to keep quiet, to relax, to back off. Intensity often leads to futility. Like the little boy who plants the seed and then nervously digs it up every day to see if it is growing.

Kids are nutty. Some friends of ours in Texas have two little girls. The younger child is constantly on the move, rarely winding down by bedtime. So the nightly affair has become something of a familiar routine.

A small bottle containing urine sat upon the desk of Sir William Osler. He was then the eminent professor of medicine at Oxford University. Sitting before him was a classroom full of young, wide-eyed medical students.

Nobody is a whole chain. Each one is a link. But take away one link and the chain is broken. Nobody is a whole team. Each one is a player. But take away one player and the game is forfeited.

We've been talking about the essential skill of listening, particularly as it relates to Sunday sermons. I asked you to come up with some ideas on what can be done by the listener (not the preacher) to keep the sermon interesting.

Most of us were born hearing well, but all of us must learn to listen well. Listening is a skill, an art that is in need of being cultivated. Dr. Ralph Nichols . . . believes that we think four, perhaps five, times faster than we talk.

Let's Label. That's a favorite parlor game among Christians. The rules are easy to remember. Any number can play. But it's especially appealing to those who are given to oversimplification and making categorical comments. Name-droppers thrive on this game.

Ignorance is not bliss. On the contrary, it is the breeding ground for fear, prejudice, and superstition, to name just a few. Knowledge is critical. The young nation of America saw the need for being knowledgeable.

Slice it any way you wish, ignorance is not bliss. Dress it in whatever garb you please, ignorance is not attractive. Neither is it the mark of humility nor the path to spirituality. It certainly is not the companion of wisdom.

We've been talking about the tragedy of insensitivity in relationships. Parental sensitivity rates desperately low these days. It's part of the fall-out of our rapid pace. Solomon tells us that our children "make themselves known" by their deeds, their actions.

My kids pulled a fast one on me one Christmas years ago. They teamed up, pooled their vast financial resources, and bought me a little motto to set on my desk. It was more than cute . . . it was convicting.