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Hidden faith, real treasure

Hidden faith, real treasure

by Noel Due

Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.

Beware of practising your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them (Matthew 6:1a).

Read Matthew 6:1–6,16–21

Jesus’ warning cuts against a deeply religious instinct that is revealed across all time and cultures: the desire for visible righteousness. Almsgiving, prayer and fasting are not condemned here; they are assumed. What is exposed is the heart’s longing to be seen, measured and approved. This is the old Adam at work – using even good works as currency for self-justification.

Jesus names the danger plainly: righteousness practised to be seen already has its reward. Human praise may come, but nothing more is promised. This is law, not advice. It unmasks a false trust – confidence in recognition, reputation or religious performance. The hypocrite, Jesus says, does not fail because of weak discipline, but because of misplaced faith.

The alternative Jesus gives is striking: secrecy. Give in secret. Pray behind a closed door. Fast without display. This is not spiritual minimalism, nor a strategy for humility. It is a reorientation of faith. True righteousness lives coram Deo – before God alone. Justification happens in this hidden place, where God sees not our performance but our need, and meets it with mercy.

The Lord’s Prayer, placed at the heart of this section, reinforces this. We do not pray to inform God or impress others, but to receive: daily bread, forgiveness and deliverance. Prayer is not a work offered upward, but an open hand turned toward heaven.

Jesus then broadens the warning: treasures reveal trusts. What we store up, protect and display discloses where our heart rests. Earthly treasure is vulnerable – subject to decay and theft. Heavenly treasure is secure because it is given, not earned, and kept by God himself. Here again, the theology of the cross prevails: what is hidden with God is more real than what shines before others.

This passage does not abolish good works; it rescues them. Freed from the need to justify ourselves, we can give, pray and fast – not to be seen, but because we are already seen by the Father who knows our need and delights to give.

Dear Father, we thank you that you can see through all our false pretences and our self-righteousness. We thank you that you see through to the heart, from which all unclean things spring, and there you meet us with mercy. Grant that we may receive your mercy with thanksgiving and open arms this day. Amen.

Noel is a semi-retired Lutheran pastor, writer, teacher and professional supervisor. He is married to Kirsten, a medical doctor, and they have three children and nine grandchildren. They also have two cats.

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Renewed while we fade

Renewed while we fade

by Noel Due

Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day (2 Corinthians 4:16).

Read 2 Corinthians 4:13 – 5:1

Paul writes as one who knows fragility firsthand. His confidence is not theoretical optimism, but faith forged in suffering. The Christian life, as Paul describes it, is lived under a double truth: decay is real, and renewal is real – but they operate on different planes. We must not confuse them.

The outer self – our visible life, our strength, reputation, even our ministry – is wasting away. Paul does not soften this. Here, there is no promise of steady improvement or visible success. This is the theology of the cross speaking plainly: God’s work in us is often hidden beneath weakness, loss and contradiction. To deny this would be to lapse into a theology of glory, measuring God’s favour by external appearances.

Yet precisely here, Paul refuses despair. The inner self is being renewed – not by effort, progress, or spiritual technique, but day by day. This renewal comes through the word that is heard and believed. Earlier, Paul had said, ‘I believed, and so I spoke.’ Faith does not eliminate affliction; it speaks in the midst of it. Renewal comes from outside us, from the promise of Christ crucified and risen, applied anew even as everything visible deteriorates.

Paul presses further. What we see is temporary; what we do not see is eternal. Faith clings not to what can be measured, but to what has been promised. The present affliction, real and painful though it is, is not minimised but put into perspective by resurrection. Death is not denied; it is answered. Chapter five makes this concrete. Our bodies are tents – temporary dwellings – but God himself prepares a permanent house. This is not an escape from creation but its redemption. The Christian hope is not disembodied survival but resurrection, guaranteed by God, not secured by us.

Thus, Paul teaches the church how not to lose heart: not by denying weakness, but by locating life where God has promised it – in Christ, hidden now, revealed in glory. Until then, renewal continues quietly, faithfully, day by day.

Dear Father, this world is not yet heaven, and we cannot make it so. Forgive our feeble attempts to make heaven on earth by securing ourselves and our futures. Root deeply in us the hope of eternal life, seen and guaranteed in the resurrection of Jesus, who has raised us up with him so that where he is, we may be also. Amen.

Noel is a semi-retired Lutheran pastor, writer, teacher and professional supervisor. He is married to Kirsten, a medical doctor, and they have three children and nine grandchildren. They also have two cats.

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Holy ground for unholy feet

Holy ground for unholy feet

by Noel Due

Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.

Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground (Exodus 3:6b).

Read Exodus 3:1–6

Moses meets God not in a sanctuary but in the wilderness, not in triumph but while tending sheep – work that marks his exile and failure. But also that work and place which forms him into the person he needs to be for God’s sake. The burning bush draws him in, yet it is not spectacle for its own sake. The fire burns without consuming because this God is revealed by divine self-disclosure. Moses does not discover God; God interrupts Moses.

The first word spoken is restraint: ‘Do not come near.’ God is holy, utterly other. Lutheran theology insists upon this seriousness of God’s holiness, not as moral improvement, but as judgement. The command to remove sandals is not merely a ritual nicety; it is an exposure. Moses stands on holy ground not because he has made it holy, but because God has chosen to be present there. Holiness is not managed. It is given.

Yet this same holy God immediately reveals himself in mercy. He names himself as the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob – the God who makes promises and keeps them across generations. He is the Lord who remembers his promises. Moses hides his face, rightly fearing death before such holiness. And yet God speaks again – not condemnation, but compassion: ‘I have surely seen … I have heard … I know their sufferings.’

The burning bush confronts Moses with the law: God is holy; Moses is not. Fear is the proper response. But the gospel follows swiftly: God sees affliction and comes down to deliver. Redemption does not arise from Israel’s faithfulness or Moses’ readiness. It arises from God’s gracious initiative.

The bush that burns without being consumed points forward. God will later dwell with his people in fire and cloud (via the Tabernacle), and ultimately in flesh, bearing judgement without being destroyed, so that his people might live.

The God who reveals himself in holiness is the same God who hears your cries. Holy ground, then, is wherever God speaks mercy to sinners. And like Moses, we are called not first to understand, but to trust the One who comes down to save.

Dear Father, we thank you for the full revelation of your holiness and mercy in the cross. There, you open to the world your heart and arms, as we are crucified with Christ, only to also rise with him. Thank you for such love, and grant us an overflow of love in return. Amen.

Noel is a semi-retired Lutheran pastor, writer, teacher and professional supervisor. He is married to Kirsten, a medical doctor, and they have three children and nine grandchildren. They also have two cats.

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