Nurture speaks of tutoring, educating, and training. This kind of instruction includes mild rebukes and correction but does not respond in a fleshly manner.
If there is any aspect of Jesus Christ we should learn, it is His passion. What drove Him, and still motivates Him throughout eternity? Can we ponder: why would He leave that glorious realm of Heaven to come to this earth? Why humble Himself, take to Himself human flesh, and be willing to go to the cross?
One of the dangers to which spiritual leaders are particularly susceptible is that we would teach the truths of God’s Word while exempting ourselves from those very truths. Take, for instance, the lawyer in Luke 10 who asked Christ how to inherit eternal life. Contrary to face value, this question was not a “What must I do to be saved?” kind of question. It was a trap.
There’s nothing like a hospital room to condense your thoughts into the truly important. Something about the tubes, monitors, hoses, gloves, gowns, and even the smell all serve to rivet your mind on the eternal. During a recent visit to a hospital bedside, I read Psalm 34 with the family gathered in the room. As I read, several key truths—truths that really matter when you’re in the hospital—spoke to me:
I have a “route” within walking distance of our church. I have been going there for 33 years, gathering up any kids that will come with me. We usually walk, or put the smaller ones on trisikads (bikes with sidecars).
My act was flawless. I walked to the front of my classroom and fell, dropping all of my handouts, lesson notes, and visuals. But to my surprise, the girls just sat there.
We can view others as people to be loved, tools to be used, or scenery to be passed over. But when Jesus saw the multitudes, He did not lose their individual worth in the crowd.