Weekly devotionals tracing Jesus’ road to the cross as we journey through Matthew’s Gospel. As we enter the pilgrimage of Lent, let us turn our eyes to see Christ's glory ultimately displayed on the cross and in His resurrection.
Our prayer is that as you reflect on these passages, you will find refreshment and be filled with renewed hope as we prepare our hearts for Easter.
You can read Matthew's Gospel here.
Here we find Jesus at the height of His ministry.
He’s built up quite a following, and with it a reputation. His wisdom is uncontested and His power to heal remarkable.
Throughout Galilee and Judea, He’s been preaching the good news of the Kingdom to a growing crowd and healing every disease and sickness. He’s debated with Pharisees, challenged the self-righteous and welcomed little children.
Now, as He turns towards Jerusalem, He draws His disciples aside. He has something important to tell them:
‘They will condemn [the Son of Man] to death.’
I’m reminded of one Christmas when my Granny gathered us around, hushing the hubbub of cousins chattering, to declare, ‘This is my last Christmas.’ Silence. Shock. Above all, confusion: how could she possibly know this with such certainty? As it transpired, she didn’t, and lived to see another fair few years!
But Jesus was right. He would be ‘mocked, flogged, and crucified.’ These are stark, upsetting words. We’re not told the disciples’ reaction but imagine what yours might have been. This is your friend, your teacher, someone you deeply respect and someone with power over death. How could He possibly die, let alone be condemned to crucifixion?
The silence that follows – the disciples appear to be speechless – mirrors their blindness to what is to come. When Jesus predicted His death back in Matthew 16, Peter rebuked Him, saying, ‘Never, Lord! This shall never happen to you!’ Both his devotion and his misunderstanding of Jesus’ purpose is clear.
‘As they approached Jerusalem…’
Scene change. Jericho in the distance, Jesus and His followers come next to Bethphage on the Mount of Olives. Jerusalem lies below, stretched out before them.
Now’s the time for Jesus’ triumphant entrance into the capital. In the ancient near east, a conquering King would ride through newly occupied land on a mighty warhorse. Yet when the King came to ride into his own capital city, he would ride on a donkey.
So, Jesus instructs His disciples to find a donkey and her colt. Fulfilling Zechariah's prophecy (Zechariah 9:9-10), this is Jerusalem's true King, entering His city. The image of Jesus riding on a donkey teaches us so much about the kind of King we worship.
He’s a King who confronts, a King who surprises and a King who makes everyone ask, ‘Who is this?’ Above all, He’s the King who ultimately fulfils the Old Testament prophecies, and our deepest need.
He's the King who inspires the crowds to sing, 'Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!'
Let us join them in praise.
Our Lord Jesus,
Hosanna in the highest heaven! We praise You, our King. As we remember our broken humanity on this Ash Wednesday and wait in eager anticipation for your redeeming grace displayed on the cross, train our lips to sing your praise.
We worship You, the one true King who came humbly on a donkey. In Your meekness, we are reminded that You gave up all the riches of heaven to walk on this earth, experience our humanity and pay the ultimate price to redeem us.
Fill us afresh with awe and cause us to overflow with praise. Help us to be like the crowd, shouting Your praises so loudly that all around us might ask, ‘Who is this Jesus?’
Amen.
This devotional series has been written by members of UCCF Staff. This week's comes from Kitty Hardyman (Communications Officer).
Jesus. The son of man? The son of God? A representation of love on earth… or a bearer of justice?
Wonderfully, we see that Jesus is all of these.
For those in first century Judea, Jesus’ identity was the subject of much argument and discussion. In this passage, Matthew draws us to the heart of this, as Jesus walks the streets of Jerusalem – for the first time since His ministry began.
Here we see both Jesus’ humanity and divinity. Reading the Gospels, we become accustomed to His care for humanity as we see Him build friendships and love deeply. Then in Chapter 12, we get a glimpse of His righteous anger; reminiscent of the Lord’s in the Old Testament. (This passage is littered with OT references – how many can you spot?).
‘My house will be called a house of prayer, but you are making it a den of robbers,’ Jesus exclaims.
The temple, the heart of Jewish life in Jerusalem, contained the inner temple for solemn prayers (within, the holy of holies which only the high priest could enter), and the outer temple filled with all people – and at this moment, filled with commerce.
Walking into His Father’s house, Jesus was rightly outraged that the space reserved for spending with God was instead selling products.
Imagine the scene: you live in the ground floor flat of a lovely three-storey townhouse and you’ve been on holiday. You return to find the front window knocked in and turned into a shopfront, manure walked in, a hubbub of people disrespecting your property. Okay, your bedroom further in hasn’t been touched, but your living room is a tip. How would you feel? You’d probably call the police and hope they would oust the sellers. You’d be shocked, rightfully angry and visibly distressed.
Jesus has the authority to overturn these tables because He is none other than God Himself – it is His, or His father’s, house. But it isn’t only Jesus’ anger that we see:
‘The blind and the lame came to him at the temple, and he healed them.’
This is astounding when we remember that part of the temple was reserved only for ‘clean’ Jews: not the blind or lame. Jesus not only shows compassion but also an immense sense of control in a chaotic situation. Jesus both acknowledges and heals them. We see His divinity and humanity in combination: He overrules the law, declaring that everyone can have a personal connection with God.
Matthew then includes a wonderful detail:
‘The children [were] shouting in the temple courts, “Hosanna to the Son of David”’
Notice the contrast between the chief priests and the children? We see Jesus’ humanity in His warmth towards the children. Not a distant figure but a loving one. The teachers of the law had it wrong – everyone, including children, are welcome to bow down before the Lord and worship Him.
Here Jesus is confronted by the chief priests and teachers of the law. Hoping to trip Him up, they ask:
‘By what authority are you doing these things?’
Knowing their hearts, Jesus does not provide an answer outright. He knows they plan to lie. After all, His miracles should surely be enough to show He is God.
So Jesus responds with a question in return regarding baptism. A shrewd response, He has them stumped. Their hearts are hard; He chooses not to be taken in by their line of questioning.
Jesus knows our hearts in just the same way. Like the teachers of the law, He knows we are prone to doubt, prone to be hypocritical and prone to fail to believe in His divinity.
So who do you say He is? The son of God or simply a prophet? Fully human, or God incarnate on earth?
Lord Jesus,
Thank You that You have opened our eyes by Your Holy Spirit to see Your divinity. Help us to be like the children at the temple who saw Your goodness and mercy and shouted ‘Hosanna’. May we place our full trust in You and walk ever closer with You this Lent.
Lord, help us also to be more like You – to be calm in difficult situations and place our trust in You. Help us to revere You as the Lord of all, the creator God who rules with justice; to love You as our friend.
Amen.
This devotional series has been written by members of UCCF Staff. This week's comes from Thomas McBride (Communications & Supporter Relations Officer).
In this passage there are the two plots: two conspiracies
The first (verses 1-2) is a conspiracy of life, which Jesus reminds His disciples of. Its plan is made before the creation of the world, the plan of a triune God, who overflows with love, a plan for salvation and eternal life.
Notice how certain Jesus is, almost like He’s just running His disciples through a weekly staff meeting – ‘just two days until I go to my death.’
Notice the deep resonance with God’s plan of salvation stretching back into history. Passover; coming judgement; blood that turns away wrath; a decision to make – will you paint your doorpost or trust your own plans to get you through?
The second (verses 3-5) is a sneaky backroom deal, a bunch of powerful men feeling threatened, who get together to scheme for the death of an innocent man.
Notice the exalted setting, the palace of the priest. Notice the secrecy, the odour of death in all they do. Notice their strategic shrewdness, their understanding of just how and when to time their evil in order to have maximum effect.
Which conspiracy feels like it’s winning in the world today? Where does it feel like the power and the victory lie? Where does the smart money go, which side should we get behind?
Judas thinks he knows (verses14-16). He’s weighed it up, he’s counted the cost, and all things considered, he’s putting his weight behind those who seek to destroy. He’s no fool, he can see where the power is, and how he can gain by it. They’ll give him thirty pieces of silver, and, after all, what has following Jesus really gained him? A so-called Messiah getting ready to die?
In the end, he comes to one conclusion: Jesus isn’t worth it.
The unnamed women in verses 6-13, she thinks she knows too. I wonder how she came to decide to do what she did for Jesus. Did she have weeks of agonising decisions, passing the jar of perfume on her shelf, trying desperately to ignore the prompting in her heart to bring it to Him? Did she weigh up the options, consider all the other worthy causes her money could be spent on? Or did she, heart full of joy and love, never give a moment’s thought to the relative worth of this gift when compared to what she had gained.
Whatever’s brought her there, there she is, ready to pour out the most valuable thing she has to give, to recklessly back this conspiracy of life, to give everything to the Lord she loves. How wasteful! How foolish!
Yet how beautiful to Him.
Don’t you wish you could hear Jesus say of you:
‘she has done a beautiful thing to me’
The God of Universe, the Creator of the stars and the seas, the Righteous One
– what is beautiful to Him?
A heart that says, no matter how things may look, ‘I’m with You Lord - I can’t always see what You’re doing, but I trust You, and whatever You’re doing in the world, however weak it may look right now – I want to be a part of it.’
Because in the end, when you keep reading, we see that whatever Judas thinks he’s doing, he’s actually furthering that conspiracy for life.
The very death that he is selling Jesus to, will bring salvation. The betrayal, the wounds, the suffering of his injured friend, the very plot to harm – all of these are furthering God’s purposes.
We can only live lives that are beautiful to Jesus if we can see Him as the unnamed woman in our passage sees Him, if we have eyes that see past what may look like the triumph of evil in our world – eyes that could meet the eyes of our Saviour across a room of scorn and muttering, and give everything in praise of Him. He is worthy.
Lord Jesus,
You are worthy. Help us to live lives that are beautiful to You and that show a watching world that nothing is more valuable or more lovely to us than You.
Help us to believe that even when evil seems to have the upper hand, Your plans will come to pass.
In Your name we pray.
Amen
This devotional series has been written by members of UCCF Staff. This week's comes from Philly Chambers (CU Staff Worker in East London).
Think of the best meal you’ve ever had. Remember the smell, the taste, the texture, the sights and sounds.
Who are you with?
When I think of the meals I’ve most enjoyed, I’m not on my own – I’m with my closest friends and family. In fact, the food falls into the background as I remember the stories, the laughter, the relaxed atmosphere of being with those who know me best.
In this passage we find Jesus stepping away from the crowds to enjoy a meal alone with His closest friends. He wants to ‘celebrate the Passover with [His] disciples’ (18).
Passover was one of the most important festivals in the Jewish year. It was a celebration of God rescuing His people from slavery in Egypt. In the Old Testament this was the big event that people looked back to when they wanted a reminder of God’s faithfulness, love and power. And so Passover was a time to ‘Remember the wonders [God] has done’ when ‘He brought out his people with rejoicing’ (Psalm 105:5, 44).
But this Passover is different. This is what all the Passovers since the Exodus had been a faint picture of. They’ve all been leading here. In the intimacy of this special meal with His closest friends, we get the clearest glimpse yet of what Jesus has come to do.
Jesus takes the significance of the Passover and reshapes it, placing Himself at the centre.
The Passover looked back to the Exodus. But now we look back to the cross, to Christ’s blood ‘poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins’ (28).
But the meal Jesus institutes also looks forward. Even as He goes to the cross Jesus looks ahead to another day: ‘I will not drink from this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom’ (29). He looks past the suffering of the cross to the day of celebration, when His people will be with Him forever.
That day isn’t here yet. But as we wait, Jesus says to each of us: ‘Take and eat’ (26). He invites us to the table with Him and with His people.
As we approach Easter, let the Lord use this meal to draw your eyes from the here and now.
Look back to the cross where your sin was paid for by His precious blood.
Look forward to that glorious day when we will join Jesus in a place where sin, suffering and sorrow have passed away. That day when we will take our seat at the wedding supper of the Lamb (Revelation 19:9). That really will be a meal to remember.
Lord Jesus,
Thank you that Your blood was poured out so that we can be forgiven. We long for that day when we will celebrate with You in Your Father’s Kingdom.
Until then, help us to take hold of You each day by faith. Please use the meal You gave us to draw our eyes back to the cross and forward to the day when You return in glory.
Amen
This devotional series has been written by members of UCCF Staff. This week's comes from Tom Roberts, Editor of Bethinking.
What’s your response to things you’d rather avoid?
‘Stiff upper lip’? Retreat into isolation? A few extra treats?
This week, as we journey towards Easter, we’re in Gethsemane, as Jesus leaves the Last Supper.
Our passage opens with Jesus in an unusually troubled state: ‘My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,’ he tells his closest friends. ‘Stay here and keep watch with me.’ (v38)
Jesus – the Son of God, the Messiah - is in anguish. Here, the night before the cross, the Lord Jesus is truly the Man of Sorrows. (Isaiah 53:4)
And the reason becomes clear as He leaves His disciples and prays, falling on His face:
‘My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.’ (Matthew 26:39)
The ‘cup’ Jesus refers to is an Old Testament symbol of bitter judgement in God’s hand, poured out for the wicked to drink. (Psalm 75; cf. Jeremiah 25 & Isaiah 51)
This cup represents the fullness of God’s wrath. Complete, inescapable punishment for every human sin.
As if cruel torture and agonising crucifixion weren’t horrific enough, having only ever known His Father’s love, Jesus faces the weight of an eternity of separation from Him; the sentence that should be ours.
No wonder Jesus is in torment.
How awful Christ’s agony is here, bowed down under the enormity of what He is about to experience – praying similar words three times, as His friends struggle to even stay awake.
And yet…
Consider Jesus’ posture as He prays. Though His words contain desperation, His position -both physically and spiritually – is one of humble submission.
‘My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done’ (Matthew 26:42)
With each prayer, Jesus becomes increasingly resolute, seeking His Father’s will.
‘So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time, saying the same thing.’ (Matthew 26:44)
He knows there is no other way for lost sinners to be redeemed and brought into God’s love.
In what was surely the greatest hour of testing for Jesus, He faces the cross – the climax of His earthly ministry – with a firm trust in His Father’s will.
Here, the second Adam faced not His own judgement, but ours. And now, we are free to enjoy life lived in Him.
How might the Lord be calling us to walk in this same love – keeping watch and praying – as we seek His will?
Lord Jesus,
How agonising that night in Gethsemane must have been, as You faced the weight of an eternity of judgement for our sin. And yet You bore this cost in our place.
We praise You for this incredible love, which has utterly rescued us from sin.
As we consider Your suffering, please help us to ‘watch and pray, that we might not fall into temptation’ – and love others with this selfless love, even when it is painful.
Amen.
This devotional series has been written by members of UCCF Staff. This week's comes from Tom Banks, Finance Administrator.
Have you ever faced the punishment for something that wasn’t your fault? Ever been accused of stealing the chocolate in place of your sibling? Or gotten in trouble for speaking in school when it was the person sitting next to you?
What was your response? Were you defensive? Did you rattle off a list of all the reasons why it wasn’t your fault.
Jesus’ response couldn’t be further from our natural reaction. Jesus displays perfect obedience as He willingly submits to the will of His Father.
This week, we find Jesus before Pontius Pilate, in front of the crowd. He’s been falsely accused before the Sanhedrin and now a political trial begins:
'Are you the King of the Jews?’
You can just hear Pilate’s jeering sarcasm. A bloodied and beaten King of Israel?
To the human eye He does not look majestic. But what do we see? A soon-to-be slaughtered holy and blameless Lamb.
In verses 12-14, we read that Jesus gave no answer to the accusations. His silence left the governor in ‘great amazement’.
Pilate ‘saw in Him unusual gentleness and humility combined with majestic dignity. He beheld submission blended with innocence.’1 Jesus made no lofty defence, rather He submitted.
Yet Pilate chose to reject the truth.
Pilate had all the evidence to make an ‘innocent’ verdict. He wasn’t ignorant of the fact that Jesus was presented to him out of the Jewish leaders’ envy. His decision led to the darkest day of history.
The Roman empire prided itself on justice, but Pilate’s judgement is swayed by his personal political interests and fears. He knows ‘King of the Jews’ is a king of disobedience to Caesar. So he is taken in by the Jewish leaders’ threat ‘If you let this Man go, you are not Caesar's friend’ (John 19:12).
Despite the evidence of Jesus’ innocence. Despite his wife’s plead following her dream. He chose to obey the crowds and reject the right thing to do.
Nothing could hide his responsibility in allowing Jesus, the only blameless man in human history, to be crucified. His act of ‘washing his hands’ was futile.
Oh, how Pilate’s weak submission to a crowd’s thirst for innocent blood contrasts with Jesus’ perfect meek submission to a Father’s will.
The crowds who only a week before were praising Him throughout the streets have swapped their ‘hosannas’ for ‘crucify him’.
Jesus, truly the King of the Jews, had the authority to stop this all at any point, yet He chose to remain. The true innocent one, willingly facing the punishment in our place.
In this passage, we must pay attention to Barabbas. For in Barabbas we see ourselves.
The well-known criminal pardoned by the crowds. Jesus sent to be crucified on the cross meant for Barabbas. It should have been us crucified on that cross. Out of love, Christ submitted to His Father’s will and shed His blood for us.
‘Let his blood be on us and on our children!’ The crowd did not understand what they asked for. Take a moment to let the truth of Jesus' sacrifice for the very sinners who crucified Him sink in. In Christ, we can come to rest in the glorious cleansing of the slain Lamb’s blood!
Lord Jesus,
You are the King of Kings. Thank You for Your atoning death. Thank You for Your perfect submission to Your Father’s will. Thank You that out of love You died in our place and Your blood makes us white as snow.
Help us Lord to keep resting in the truth that You died in our place.
We pray this in Your name,
Amen.
This devotional series has been written by members of UCCF Staff. This week's comes from Charlotte Struthers, Relay Worker in Glasgow.
What does it take for you to believe someone? Well, it often depends on the claim, and the person, but even then, how likely are you to take what you hear as truth?
Maybe you’re more trusting than I am but I’m very quick to respond with comments like ‘Go on then – prove it. Show me evidence.’
Throughout Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus has been making big claims about Himself – claims that He is the Son of God; claims that He is the Christ; claims that He can forgive sins. Big claims with big consequences – they have cost Him His life.
As He is led to Golgotha; as He wears a crown of thorns; as He is nailed to a wooden cross – the charge against Him is placed over His head: ‘This is Jesus, the King of the Jews’.
And as He hangs dying, in pain many of us could barely bear to imagine, those around Him continue to mock Him. The chief priests, elders, scribes, passers-by and even two criminals who are experiencing the same fate.
‘Come down from the cross, if you are the Son of God!’
‘He’s the king of Israel! Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him.’
Each one is demanding that Jesus backs up His claims – but how little do they know.
In demanding that Jesus proves who He is, they miss all the things that verify that Jesus is who He says He is.
Matthew records so many details, some which may seem confusing to us, but many are recorded as the fulfilment of prophecies in other parts of the Bible, verifying the claims Jesus made about Himself.
But even if those subtle details went unnoticed, there are a few things that surely couldn’t have gone unnoticed.
The entire land was in darkness for three hours, and in that darkness, from the cross, Jesus cries out the words of Psalm 22, a song of King David – ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’.
This darkness wasn’t an eclipse, but God pouring out His judgement on His Son, the anointed King and Suffering Servant. The One in whom no sin was found, is now drinking the full cup of God’s wrath for the sins of many, and once it has been drunk dry, He dies.
‘At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom’ and then an earthquake, and dead bodies being raised – it is enough proof for the gentile centurion, as he proclaims, ‘Surely he was the Son of God!’
Whilst Jesus hung on the cross His mockers sneered ‘“He saved others,” they said, “but he can’t save himself!”’, calling for Him to ‘come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him’ – and the beautiful irony is that by not saving Himself, He saved those who do believe in Him.
Jesus didn’t just talk the talk, but also walked the walked – walking to the cross; experiencing the judgement that we deserve; and giving His life so that we can have groundbreaking access to God.
Lord Jesus,
As we come to this passage, we find ourselves at Your cross. We realise that it was our sin that nailed You there. We are humbled that You experienced the judgement we deserved.
Thank You for Your obedience even to death, so that we could be saved.
In Your name,
Amen.
This devotional series has been written by members of UCCF Staff. This week's comes from Alex Hanna, Staff Worker in Aberdeen.
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