October 13-17
[M] Lamentations 1-5; Ps 137; 1 Pet 4
[T] Obadiah 1; Jer 40-42; Ps 147; 1 Pet 5
[W] Jeremiah 43, 44, 46; 2 Peter 1
[T] Jer 47, 48, 49; Ps 80; 2 Peter 2
[F] Jer 50-51; 2 Peter 3
Dwell Plan Day 206-210 | CSB | Digital PDF | Printable PDF
Notes from Jon & Chris
Monday
Lamentations 3:22–23 | The book of Lamentations is a poetic funeral dirge for Jerusalem, written in the aftermath of Babylon’s destruction of the city in 586 BC. Most scholars attribute it to Jeremiah, the “weeping prophet,” who witnessed the devastation firsthand. The Temple burned, the people exiled, and the streets once filled with worship now silent with grief. But Lamentations is not chaos on a page. It’s meticulously structured: five poems, each forming an acrostic in Hebrew (except the last, which deliberately breaks the pattern). This discipline amid anguish is itself theological. The poet’s grief is real, but it’s ordered before God, a reminder that sorrow doesn’t have to be formless to be honest.
What’s even more profound is that the book is shaped like a chiasm—a literary mirror. The outer chapters echo each other (1 and 5, 2 and 4), with the center (chapter 3) serving as the hinge point, the heart of the lament. And right at that heart are these verses: “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end.” This is not a sentimental moment; it’s a defiant confession. Jeremiah doesn’t say this when life is good but when everything is rubble. The structure itself preaches: grief surrounds hope, but hope holds the center. In God’s design, mercy is not the afterthought of suffering; it is the midpoint through which suffering is interpreted.
In a modern world that reads from left to right, always chasing progress and resolution, Lamentations reminds us that biblical faith often circles back to the center—to God’s unchanging character. The chiasm is not just poetic symmetry; it’s a worldview. Everything—pain, loss, exile—folds inward toward the faithful God who governs history. Jeremiah teaches us to trust not in the line of our story but in the center of God’s. His sovereignty doesn’t erase grief, but it anchors it. When the city falls, the poet still sings: morning mercies are certain, even in the dark.
Psalm 137:1 | This psalm gives voice to the ache Jeremiah foresaw. The people who once ignored his warnings now find themselves exiles in Babylon, sitting by foreign rivers, haunted by memories of their ruined city. Jeremiah had told them that this exile was not abandonment but discipline; that God had plans even in Babylon (Jeremiah 29:10–14). Psalm 137 captures the human side of that truth: faith feels fragile when songs of worship are demanded in a strange land. Yet beneath the sorrow runs the same conviction Jeremiah proclaimed—the covenant Lord has not ceased to be their God. The rivers of Babylon are not the end of the story, but the place where lament becomes longing, and longing becomes hope, as God begins to re-form His people’s hearts for home.
1 Peter 4:1 | Ceased from sin? This is a confusing phrase. THe ESV Study Bible has a helpful note:
Concerning the phrase, “whoever has suffered in the flesh has ceased from sin,” three different interpretations have been suggested: (1) Some suggest that this could refer to the suffering of Christ (“the one who has suffered”)—who, though he was not himself a sinner, took sin upon himself and then triumphed over it forever through his suffering and death. This interpretation seems unlikely, however, because “whoever” seems too broad and imprecise to be a clear reference to Christ. (2) Others have suggested that this is a reference to the believer being dead to the power of sin, as a result of having died with Christ (similar to Paul’s concept in Rom. 6:1–11). (3) More likely, Peter’s point is that when believers are willing to suffer, the nerve center of sin is severed in their lives. Although believers will never be totally free from sin in this life (cf. James 3:2; 1 John 1:8), when believers endure suffering for the sake of Christ they show that their purpose in life is not to live for their own pleasures but according to the will of God and for his glory.
1 Peter 4:6 | Preached to those who are dead? That's another confusing phrase (when we read it in English). What's going on here? Again, the ESV Study Bible has a helpful note:
Although some maintain that Peter offers a second chance after death for those who rejected Christ, this view is untenable since it contradicts both the clear teaching of Scripture throughout the rest of the Bible (e.g., Luke 16:26; Heb. 9:27; see note on 1 Pet. 3:19) and the immediate context, concerning the importance of perseverance of believers (4:1–6) and the coming judgment of “the living and the dead” (v. 5). Given the immediate context, “those who are dead” refers to Christians to whom “the gospel was preached” when they were alive but who have since died. This fits with the meaning of “dead” in v. 5. Even though believers will experience physical death (i.e., they are judged in the flesh the way people are), believers who have died live in the spirit the way God does (that is, they live in heaven now, and they will live as well at the resurrection when Christ returns).
Tuesday
Obadiah 1:15 | The book of Obadiah is the shortest in the Old Testament, but it delivers a heavy amount of God's judgement and justice. It’s not addressed to Israel or Judah, but to Edom—the descendants of Esau, Jacob’s brother—who stood by and even gloated as Jerusalem fell to Babylon. God’s word through Obadiah is a judgment oracle against those who delighted in His people’s pain. But what’s striking is that this message of wrath is not primarily for Edom’s ears; it’s for Judah’s. God’s people, humiliated and displaced, needed to know that their suffering had not escaped His notice. Even when they were powerless, the Lord remained sovereign, and His justice was not delayed, but is certain.
Like Revelation, Obadiah lifts the eyes of the faithful to the horizon of God’s final victory. The message is not “you will escape suffering,” but “your God still reigns.” The nations rage, empires rise and fall, but none can outrun the justice or mercy of the Lord. For exiles wondering if God had forgotten them, Obadiah was a whisper of comfort wrapped in thunder: The kingdom shall be the Lord’s (v. 21). That promise—of a world made right, of evil finally reversed—is the same hope that sustains believers today. God’s sovereignty is not just a doctrine; it’s the solid ground beneath our waiting.
1 Peter 5:1 | You can finally see what an effect Christ’s teaching on leadership had on Peter. It’s what Christ modeled Himself in becoming a human: humility! For God to choose to become a man, in order to rescue humanity, He had to humbly give up power, glory, knowledge, etc. In the gospels, the disciples don’t really understand this, and they stumble around trying to build org charts, fighting about who’s going to be in charge. We see Peter jostling for control, standing out, quick to speak and lead. But the difference here in this letter, in this verse! He’s an apostle, by all accounts the lead apostle, and how does he approach and encourage and come alongside these elders he’s writing to? As a “fellow elder.” He understands Jesus’ kingdom now. Can you imagine the thrill and excitement of those first elders in their first reading? “Peter thinks of himself like one of us?!” There’s no posturing or need to claim the authority that Jesus had given him. No, instead he leads by example, finally applying what he had heard all those years ago from Jesus “Even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve and give His life as a ransom for many.” In the stiff hierarchy of old systems, authority and submission are a big deal. It’s how you navigate your obligations, and it’s usually seen as the glue that holds a culture together. Christ breaks all that glue in His kingdom, and He invites us to do the same.
Wednesday
2 Peter 1:21 | Peter’s words remind us that Scripture is not the product of human invention but divine inspiration. The prophets did not wake up with good ideas about God—they were “carried along by the Holy Spirit.” This image of wind filling a ship’s sails, reveals both human participation and divine authorship. God used real people with real voices, yet what they spoke was His Word. From a Reformed perspective, this is the foundation of our confidence: Scripture is God-breathed (2 Timothy 3:16). It carries the authority, clarity, and sufficiency of the God who cannot lie. In an age of competing opinions and shifting moral ground, we do not stand on speculation, but revelation.
Peter’s next chapter shows why this truth matters. False teachers had begun twisting Scripture, blending God’s Word with human greed and desire. That pattern hasn’t changed. The danger of our time is not usually the outright denial of the Bible, but its quiet distortion, when the voice of culture or preference begins to speak louder than the voice of God. The authority of Scripture is not an abstract doctrine; it’s the only safeguard against deception. When we anchor our faith, our teaching, and our lives to the Word inspired by the Spirit, we are moored to truth that does not drift.
That’s why our Bible reading plan in 2025 is more than a discipline—it’s an act of resistance. In a world flooded with noise, we are training our ears to hear the Shepherd’s voice. Each chapter read is an act of worship, declaring that God still speaks and that His Word still rules His people. As we move through Scripture together—Genesis to Revelation—we’re not just reading ancient pages; we’re being carried along by the same Spirit who inspired them, growing as a people shaped by truth and sustained by grace.
Thursday
Psalm 80:3 | Three times in Psalm 80, this prayer rises like a refrain: “Let your face shine, that we may be saved.” It’s the heart-cry of a people who know that salvation is not merely escape from judgment, it is restoration to fellowship. To see God’s face is to experience His favor, His presence, His delight. Throughout Scripture, the shining face of God symbolizes life itself: the blessing of Numbers 6, the intimacy lost in Eden, the glory Moses glimpsed only in part. When the psalmist pleads for God’s face to shine again, he’s longing not just for relief from suffering but for communion with the living God. This is what sin has fractured: not just our moral standing, but our relationship, our nearness to the One whose presence is our home.
The gospel answers that longing in full. In Christ, the face of God no longer turns away but shines upon us with steadfast love. Salvation, then, is not a ticket out of hell—it’s the invitation into His presence forever. The joy of eternity will not be in golden streets or endless leisure, but in union with Christ, the One in whose face we see the glory of God (2 Corinthians 4:6). And there, in that light, every redeemed heart will finally be satisfied, not alone, but in perfect fellowship with the multitude of God’s people, beholding Him together, and finding that the sight of His face is the fullness of joy.
2 Peter 2:17 | Peter paints false teachers as “springs without water,” a haunting image of promise without substance. They appear to offer refreshment, but when the thirsty soul draws near, there’s nothing there. Their words may sound spiritual, but they lack the living water of Christ and the truth of His Word. In Jeremiah’s day, the people forsook “the fountain of living waters” for cracked cisterns that could hold none (Jeremiah 2:13), and the same tragedy repeats whenever teaching detaches from Scripture. Real life, real nourishment, comes only from the gospel that flows from God’s Word. That’s why the church must be vigilant, not chasing the shimmer of an empty oasis, but continually drinking from the deep unchanging truth of Christ.
Friday
Jeremiah 51 | This is a sweeping vision of Babylon’s downfall, a city once proud now crumbling under the weight of divine justice. What seemed invincible is shown to be fragile in the hands of the Sovereign Lord. The prophet describes its fall in poetic detail: walls broken, idols shattered, rivers dried. This is not random vengeance but the deliberate act of a God who rules history. Babylon had lifted itself up in arrogance, boasting in its strength, but now it becomes a warning to every empire that exalts itself against heaven. God’s justice is not hasty, but it is sure. The kingdom of man always collapses under the illusion of its own permanence.
Through a biblical-theological lens, Jeremiah 51 becomes a shadow of Revelation 18, the fall of the final Babylon, the symbol of every worldly power opposed to Christ. From ancient Mesopotamia to modern empires, the pattern repeats: humanity builds towers, and God brings them down. Yet for the people of God, this is not a message of fear but of hope. The destruction of Babylon means the rise of Zion. What a glorious day it will be when the kingdoms of this world become the kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ, and He shall reign forever. The pride of Babylon will give way to the peace of the New Jerusalem, where the Lamb reigns and His glory fills the earth.
2 Peter 3:11-13 | Imagine sitting down at a five-star restaurant and spending fifteen hundred dollars on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. You’d think, that’s crazy—why pour that much into something so ordinary, so fleeting? Yet that’s exactly what we do when we pour our hopes, energy, and identity into the things of this world. Peter reminds us that everything around us—our possessions, reputations, comforts—will one day dissolve. It’s not that these things are evil, but that they’re temporary. Investing your life in them is like paying a fortune for something that won’t last past lunch. The wise person looks at the menu of this life and chooses differently, storing up treasure where moth and rust can’t touch it.
Christ calls us to live with eternity in view. One day, sooner than we realize, we’ll stand before Him, and everything we once thought was valuable will be seen for what it really was—temporary scaffolding around an eternal soul. Peter’s question presses home: What sort of people ought we to be? When we grasp the shortness of this life, holiness becomes not a burden but common sense, and generosity becomes joy. The person who lives with heaven in view will never regret what they gave away for Christ, but the one who lived for peanut-butter sandwich pleasures in a perishing world surely will. The call of 2 Peter 3 is simple: live today for the world that will last forever.