“But I have all, and abound: I am full, having received of Epaphroditus the things which were sent from you, an odour of a sweet smell, a sacrifice acceptable, wellpleasing to God.” (Phil. 4:18)

Paul’s letter to the Philippians was really an acknowledgment of a gift which he had received from the believers at Philippi. We are probably safe in assuming that it was a gift of money. The surprising thing is the way in which the apostle magnifies the gift. He calls it “an odour of a sweet smell, a sacrifice acceptable, wellpleasing to God.” In Ephesians 5:2 He uses a similar expression to describe Christ’s great gift of Himself at Calvary. He speaks of it as “an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweetsmelling savour.” It is breathtaking to think that a gift given to a servant of the Lord should be memorialized with language similar to that which describes the Unspeakable Gift.

J. H. Jowett comments finely on this point. “How vast, then, is the range of an apparently local kindness! We thought we were ministering to a pauper, and in reality we were conversing with the King. We imagined that the fragrance would be shut up in a petty neighborhood, and lo, the sweet aroma steals through the universe. We thought that we were dealing only with Paul, and we find that we were ministering to Paul’s Savior and Lord.” When we understand the true spiritual nature of Christian giving and the vast range of its influence, we are delivered from giving grudgingly or of necessity. We are immune forever to the gimmickry of professional fund-raisers who extort by cajolery, pathos or comedy. We see that giving is a form of priestly service, not a legal enaction. We give because we love, and we love to give.

The truth that my minuscule gifts to the Great God fill the throne room of the universe with fragrance should inspire me to humble worship and hilarious giving. Never again will the offering on Sunday morning be a boring, if necessary, part of the service. It will be as truly a means of giving directly to the Lord Jesus as if He were bodily present. —William MacDonald

The history of the word ‘character’ is interesting. Anciently, character was the stamp or make by which a brick-maker, an engraver, or other worker marked the thing he made. Applied to life, character is that which one’s experiences impress or print on his soul. A baby has no character. Its life is but a piece of white paper on which something is to be written, some song or story, perhaps a tragedy of sorrow. Character grows as the baby passes into manhood. Every day something is written here, some mark made. The mother writes something; the teacher writes something; every day’s experiences write some words; every touch or influence of other lives—leaves some mark; temptation and struggle do their part in filling the page; books, education, sorrow, joy, companions, friends—all of life touches and paints some line of beauty—or scratches some mark of damage. Final character is the result of all these influences that work and interact upon the life. Character is the page fully written, the picture finished.

Christ’s character is the model, the ideal, for every Christian life. In the end, we are to be altogether like Him; therefore all life’s aiming and striving should be towards Christ’s blessed beauty. His image we find in the Gospels. We can look at it every day. We can study it in its details, as we follow our Lord in His life among men, in all the variations of experience through which He passed.

A little Christian girl was asked the question, “What is it for you to be a Christian?” She answered, “It is to do as Jesus would do, and behave as He would behave—if He were a little girl and lived at our house.” No better answer could have been given. And there is scarcely any experience of life—for which we cannot find something in Christ’s life to instruct us.

We can see how Jesus did behave as a child in the home, as a man amid human needs and duties, as a friend with faulty and imperfect friends, as a comforter among sorrow-stricken ones, as a helper of others in their ills and infirmities. We can find the traits and qualities of His life—as they shine out in His contact with temptation, with enmity, with wrong, with pain, with sorrow.

The study of the story of Christ’s life, is not like the study of a picture or marble statue; we see Christ in all human relations, and can learn just how He acted, how He bore Himself.–J.R. Miller

And the second came, saying, Lord, thy pound hath gained five pounds.–Luke 19:18

Clearly God, the Giver of life, expects each of us to use our lives in the best possible way–and He holds us accountable. As we use what we have He enlarges our ability to do more. Just preserving our life isn’t enough. God expects us to produce. In 1895 a preacher by the name of J. R. Miller wrote:

Christ gives into no man’s hand at the beginning of his life—a finely trained, fully developed mind. The great poets and writers of the world, began with only one pound. There was capacity for growth—but that was all. Christ gives to no one at the start a noble, full-statured, rich, transfigured Christian character, with spiritual graces all blossoming out. The most saintly Christians began with very little saintliness, very little spiritual power. The most useful men in the church, began with a very small and imperfect sort of usefulness.

Those whose influence for good now touches thousands of lives, and extends over whole communities, or fills an entire country—had nothing to begin with—but one little pound of capacity which the Master entrusted to them. This is the principle on which all our Lord’s gifts are distributed. He puts into our hands a little at first; and as we use what we have, and gain experience, and show ability, and prove faithful to our trust—he adds more and more, giving us all we can use well, and as fast as we can use it!

Those who have suffered the most painful experiences,whatever they be, often become the most compassionate counselors, effective examples, and talented teachers. Regardless of what we are forced to go through, it can make us better, and more beneficial to others— if we don’t get bitter. So then, let’s determine, by the grace of God, to embrace our suffering for Christ’ sake, knowing that He has promised to use it for good.

For he hath made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him.–2 Cor.5:21

One of my favorite Southern Gospel songs from years ago is entitled,”He Bore It All”. I thought about that old song when I read this article:

Do you understand the concept of Christ’s bearing the sin of the world? I can only imagine  a fraction of what it means. Mark Mosley captured a small drop from the ocean of truth encompassing this profound act of infinite sacrifice. This is his humbling reminder of just how far Christ went on our behalf:

Jesus bore the sins of the Assyrians, who gloated over the captives they had skinned alive; the sins of SS troops, machine-gunning women and children running from burning synagogues with clothing ablaze.

Jesus bore the sins of child molesters, making sure their victims never have to testify; the sins of the Pharaohs, sacrificing thousands of laborers’ lives, to build themselves deifying tombs.

Jesus was tossed about in these endless storms: enraged fathers beating toddlers to death; pimps seducing runaways into lives of drugs and prostitution; church ladies cannibalizing other church ladies over coffee; Canaanites throwing their children to Moloch, their sun god; impoverished parents in China selling their children into slavery.

Jesus bore the sins of embezzlers; gangsters; bullies; rapists; liars; the indifferent; the sadistic; the self-righteous Bible-believing leaders praying long and loud, while their wives sat in back pews praying that heavy make-up covered their bruises.

It is a scene of unbearable horror and unspeakable madness. He is the accused for us all, bearing the weight of abused children; families destroyed by adultery or apathy; civilizations decaying; wars ravaging victims. Yet, through it all, deep in the terror of hell, He keeps His eyes wide open.

He is not just a bystander caught in the accident; He has come deliberately. He will accept it all, absorbing the full force of this storm of wrath in His body, His mind, His heart, and His soul, until there is nothing left to feel.

Finally, the tumbling will slow a bit; the storm will slacken, and Jesus will lift Himself on His nailed feet to snatch a gasp of air and force His swollen tongue to shout, “It is finished—I’ve come; I’ve seen; I’ve paid for it all.”

I would add to that last line, “And I have borne all this for them.” The mercy that God expended upon mankind at the cross was immeasurable. Christ died for the worst of sinners, and loved the most hateful of enemies. What a powerful reminder of God’s enormous love! Christ bore our sin and our punishment so  we could bear His righteousness and His reward.

This is the greatest reversal in all of human history: Sinners become sons of God, because the Son of God became sin . . . for us!

— Although you can never begin to grasp the extent of Christ’s sacrifice on your behalf, thank Him for the part that you can understand:  that He took your place on the cross so that you could have a place with Him in heaven.( A Wisdom Retreat)