The John Project: Recent Episodes
Randy Boldt
This podcast explores the Bible's Gospel of John a few verses at a time with a devotional perspective.
The final six verses of the Gospel of John form a kind of postscript that accomplishes three things. It establishes the basis for John’s credentials as its author, stakes his personal reputation to the veracity of what he’d written, and explains why the project involved a significant amount of purposeful curation.First, John corrected a rumor about himself, circulating among some of the early believers, that Jesus had said he wouldn’t die. This was rooted in an exchange between the Lord and Peter that had been overheard, misinterpreted, and repeated. But it appears to me that John’s purpose in bringing it up was not primarily about confirming his mortality. That would have become evident soon enough. I believe it was important to him, at the close of his gospel, to debunk any notion that he held a form of elevated status among the disciples that qualified him to write it or determined its value.I’m convinced that’s why he began setting the record straight regarding this fiction by first, as he had on three previous occasions, humbly identifying himself as a 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘑𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥. He wanted to ensure that his readers would understand he was no one special, just a recipient of the same unmerited and all-consuming love of Christ available to them as well. But he also wanted to establish that he was a credible eyewitness to what he’d written. And that’s why, referring to his physical nearness to Jesus during the Last Supper, he added that he was the one who had 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵. The Savior’s love and a front row seat to his ministry were his true credentials.And having settled that, he added his verbal signature to the document making certain no one would mistake his account for anything less than a carefully prepared and reliable treatise.Then, John closed his book with a statement of the obvious, that creating a comprehensive account of all Jesus had said and done was an impossibility. He graphically described this by saying the world isn’t big enough to contain all the books the task would require. All recorded history is curated. So, John was simply acknowledging that he’d done what every historian must do, make choices about which facts to include in their presentations based on the unique purposes that motivate their work.John had already provided the criterion for his editorial choices in chapter 20 verse 31 when he’d said, “These are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God.” And it's astonishing to consider the reality that in the millennia since John penned this gospel, his Spirit-birthed purpose for writing it has been and continues to be accomplished in the lives of billions of people…including me.It was the glorious words of Jesus quoted in verse 16 of his third chapter that the Holy Spirit used to capture my heart as a young child and launch my faith journey. Of the four New Testament gospels, only John’s contain them: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life.”I’m thoroughly incapable of expressing my praise to Jesus for his sacrifice described in that passage and for the salvation it purchased for me. But as I now conclude my journey through this gospel and the devotional commentary that has resulted, it’s also impossible for me to adequately articulate my gratitude for John’s willingness to partner with the Holy Spirit in providing us such a stunning account of God’s amazing grace.
I’ve just celebrated my seventieth birthday. To use an American football metaphor, that means I’m deep in the fourth quarter. And I’ll admit it’s tempting to allow my focus on the importance of the current play to become distracted by speculation regarding the uncertainties of the endgame. But when I do, I become self-focused, risk--averse, less available to the promptings of the Spirit, and ineffective in my service to Jesus. In John 21:18-19, having just led Peter through a process of repentance for his denials and into the restoration of his calling, we see how Jesus sought to help him avoid those pitfalls.The Lord began his comments with a phrase translated as, “Most assuredly, I say to you,” an expression John used twenty-five times in his gospel to capture Christ’s intention to signal the importance of what he was about to say. So, although the words that followed held significant implications for Peter, it’s clear Jesus meant that all of us should pay close attention to them.The Lord used prophetic language – long on insight but short on details – to describe the self-determination that characterized Peter’s early life and to set that in contrast with what would be true at its end. But the specifics regarding that future were so vague that before completing his record of the full quote, John added commentary to make sure we wouldn’t miss the fact that Jesus was predicting how Peter would die.Christian tradition holds that Peter was crucified during Emperor Nero’s reign and asked to be executed upside down because he felt unworthy of dying in the same manner as his Messiah. Although this traditional account aligns with what Jesus predicted, it’s historically unverifiable. So, we can’t know if it accurately reflects what happened or is merely a version of the events that was shaped after the fact to conform to the Lord’s prophecy.But what we can know for certain from John’s explanation is that what Jesus said about the circumstances of Peter’s passing, however hard it may have been for him to hear, was less a prediction about the manner of his death and more about how it would glorify God. And that says more about the life Peter was being called to live than about how it would end. Unless a person’s LIFE honors God, their death won’t. And that provides us with context for the Lord’s next two-word sentence.Jesus said to Peter, “Follow me.” And there would have been no mystery about what he meant. Peter had heard him use that simple phrase several times over the course of their relationship. He would have understood that he was being invited to walk in the footsteps of his Master, to literally be his 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺. And when enticed by either the devil or his own thoughts to fixate with worry or fear on how or when that path would reach its conclusion, he would have remembered the time recorded in Mark 8:34 when Jesus said, “Whoever desires to come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.”I think it’s clear that what Jesus wanted Peter to understand was that in the space between the beginning and end of his life he was being invited to pursue a way of being that should characterize every Jesus-follower, an invitation to live our lives in a way that reflects our Savior’s. Fully aware of the cross before him, he refused to be distracted by that. He inhabited every waking moment clothed in his calling with a clear-eyed perspective on eternity and the importance of honoring God in the here-and-now in a way that flows seamlessly into the forever-after.And I want to live like that. So, I’m asking Jesus to help me, regardless of how much time I have left, to ignore the clock, keep my head in the game, play my heart out, and leave it all on the field.
Recently, some of our grandchildren have become involved in theater arts. So, I’m learning a whole new vocabulary that includes the term, 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘤. In the context of storytelling, that refers to the change or growth a character experiences over the course of a story. And John 21:15-17 reveals the climax of Peter’s. But I don’t mean to suggest that any part of this gospel is fictionalized. I just mean that John’s warts-and-all account of Peter’s spiritual journey provides us with a richly genuine portrait of a VERY real person whose glaring humanity was on full display as he grew in his relationship with Jesus.And because that helps us locate our flawed selves in the story of redemption, John front-loaded our expectations regarding the significance of Peter’s role in this gospel by describing the moment early on when Jesus changed his name (1:42). In Scripture, when someone experienced a divinely initiated name change, it marked a revision in that person’s identity from one version of themselves to another. But it wasn’t a recognition of what was already true. It announced a transformation that would be the result of a process. And in Peter’s case, an important part of that process remained unfinished.On the night of Christ’s betrayal, Peter had emphatically denied three times ever having had anything to do with him. And that glaring failure hung unresolved in the post-crucifixion atmosphere like the proverbial elephant in the room no one wants to acknowledge. It hadn’t been addressed during either of the first two times Peter had been in the presence of his resurrected Master. But when Jesus appeared to the disciples in Galilee, it’s clear the Lord intended to make certain that dark part of the apostle’s story would not be its end. So, Jesus asked him, “Do you love me more than these?”Although that question could be taken more than one way, it seems obvious the Lord was referring to the other disciples and asking if Peter loved him more than THEY loved him. And that would have exposed the painful subject of Peter’s denials by reminding him of his previous boast (Matthew 26:31-33) that even if the other disciples abandoned Jesus, he never would.But the Lord’s intent was not to shame his disciple. It was to restore him. So, this passage captures an extended Q & A between them that allowed Peter to repent of his three denials by offering three expressions of devotion while providing Jesus three opportunities to express his commitment to Peter by affirming his pastoral calling.Through the centuries since, commentators have offered additional insights concerning this exchange that are certainly worthy of consideration. These have mainly centered around the four sets of Greek synonyms employed by John to capture this conversation, especially 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘱𝘦 and 𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘰, the pair translated into English as 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. But there’s enough uncertainty around these interpretations that I think it’s best to stay focused on what’s undeniable.It’s crystal clear that Jesus refused to leave Peter’s discipleship unfinished. And that’s true for you and me as well. Philippians 1:6 tells us, “He who has begun a good work in you will COMPLETE it.” So, even when that process is uncomfortable, we can be confident that, according to Romans 2:4, it’s the goodness of God that leads us across the threshold of repentance so we can grow into the shoes he intends us to fill. Each of us can count on the faithfulness of Jesus to escort us, by whatever means are required, to the climax of our spiritual 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘤.
Prior to becoming one of the twelve, John had been a commercial fisherman along with his brother and father. And nowhere is that part of his background more evident than in verse 11 of the 21st chapter of his gospel. It contains a collection of very specific details connected to the events described in the passage that surrounds it. But the curious thing is that those particulars don’t really seem to add to the overall narrative. And that’s what draws me to them. In my experience, the Bible NEVER wastes words. So, I invite you to consider with me why John felt compelled to include these descriptions.The disciples who’d returned home from Jerusalem to the Galilee region following Christ’s resurrection while waiting for him to fulfill a promise to meet them there, joined Peter in what turned out to be a fruitless night of fishing. Then, as dawn was breaking, a man they hadn’t yet recognized as Jesus called out to them from the shore and asked if they’d caught anything. When, unlike any fishermen I know, they admitted they hadn’t, he told them they should cast their net on the right side of the boat because that’s where the fish were. As crazy as this advice must have sounded, the disciples were apparently desperate enough to give it a try. And when they did, they suddenly found their net so full they couldn’t haul it into the boat.But this wasn’t the first time some of these men had witnessed a fishing miracle. In the early days of Jesus’ public ministry and prior to him calling them to be his apostles, the Gospel of Luke (5:1-6) provides details surrounding a similar night spent working their nets with nothing to show for it. After coming ashore and beginning the process of cleaning their gear, Jesus showed up and rocked their world. He promised them that if they’d head back out and cast their net once more, they’d bring in a catch. So, with Peter’s faith leading the way, they swallowed their professional pride, sailed into the deep, and soon found their net literally bursting with fish.Now, three years later, as they once again wrestled to manage a bulging net, the memory of the miraculous catch that launched their journey to becoming 𝘧𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘯 (Matthew 4:18-19) exploded into John’s awareness, filled him with recognition, and caused him to cry out, “It is the Lord!” And when Peter heard those words, he jumped into the shallow water and raced for shore while the others followed in the boat dragging the catch the final hundred yards to where Jesus was waiting.And get this, the Risen Lord of Glory had made them breakfast.Jesus had a campfire going with fish already cooking over the open flame to be enjoyed with some bread he’d also prepared. The question of whether he’d made that bread and/or caught the fish himself is as wonderful to contemplate as it is unknowable. But what we do know is that the stunned disciples were invited to contribute to the menu from their catch, and then, their Master served them.Imagining what it must have been like to be on the beach that morning and experiencing the redemptive grace on display, gives me goosebumps. But I still can’t help wondering about verse 11. Why did the Holy Spirit prompt John to make sure we’d know the following details? First, that Peter worked with his friends to drag the net to shore. It was a group effort. Second, that every fish was precisely counted. There were 153 exactly. The number wasn’t rounded off. Third, that all the fish were large (literally, 𝘮𝘦𝘨𝘢-fish in the Greek) or 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴 in fisherman slang. And last, that the net didn’t break.As I mentioned at the top, these descriptions don’t seem to contribute much information valuable to the story. And that leaves commentators only able to speculate regarding any deeper meanings they may point to. But what’s crystal clear is that this verse is chock full of the kind of details that would be of great interest to other fishermen. And maybe that’s the point.You and I weren’t there for that glorious breakfast by the sea. But all of us who’ve, by faith, followed in the footsteps of Peter, John, and the rest of the Lord’s original crew have been given the same divine vocation. We've also been called to become 𝘧𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘯 (Mark 1:17). And as we live out that assignment, we get to partner with other believers to bring in the catch, understand that each soul counts, remember that each of them is a treasure to Jesus, and rejoice in the knowledge that the net of salvation can’t break. Because it’s the result of limitless grace, there’s always room for more.
All of us have had the experience of unexpectedly running into an acquaintance, exchanging quick greetings, and before moving on to wherever we were originally headed, saying to each other, “Let’s catch up over coffee sometime.” But we usually just say things like that because it’s expected, and the ambiguity signals our lack of intention to follow through. If we were serious, we’d open the calendars on our phones and arrange a time and place for the meeting. But Jesus isn't like us, and that truth helps me better understand the context for the events described in John 21:1-4.Jesus appeared to his disciples in Jerusalem twice within the first eight days following his resurrection. Then, at some point during the next month (Acts 1:3), at least seven of them made the four-day journey back to their home region. It was there, on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, also known as Tiberias, that they experienced their third encounter with the risen Christ (John 21:14). And John’s account of the resulting rendezvous is filled with such profound significance, especially for Peter, that its record became the final chapter and epilogue of this gospel.It was likely a mix of reasons that prompted the disciples to make that trip. They may have feared arrest by the Jewish authorities, reached the limits of the hospitality or finances that secured their Jerusalem lodgings, or maybe just desired to return to familiar surroundings among friends and family after all they’d been through. But chief among the considerations had to have been their recollection of a promise Jesus made on the night of his betrayal. He told them he would meet them in Galilee after his resurrection (Matthew 26:32).These weren’t idle words. In fact, when the women discovered the empty tomb on resurrection morning, they were specifically instructed by an angel to remind the disciples about them. And Jesus himself reiterated those instructions when he appeared to the ladies on their way to deliver that reminder (Matthew 28:7 & 10). But as serious as Jesus was about fulfilling this pledge, its details remained vague. The disciples were left to wonder where and when EXACTLY this would take place.To their credit, they made the trip to Galilee. But in the absence of more specific information, it appears Peter reached the end of his patience and decided that just waiting for Jesus to show up somewhere sometime was unproductive or perhaps even futile. So, he announced he was going fishing, and he didn’t mean for recreation. With the clock ticking on questions demanding answers and his future unclear, it seems Peter chose to return to the clarity of his past. And without a better idea for what to do, the others joined him in the boat to help man the nets.But after laboring all night with nothing to show for their efforts, it’s easy to imagine the heavy fog of disappointment, disillusionment, discouragement, frustration and hopelessness that must have settled over their souls. In fact, it seems to have been so thick that they failed to recognize the man standing on the beach just a hundred yards away (John 21:8) as dawn began to break. But it was Jesus keeping his promise.Because trust forms the foundation of any meaningful relationship, and because relationship with us is what God desires most, Hebrews 11:6 reveals that, “without faith it is impossible to please him.” But true faith can only develop when our trust is challenged, and that happens most often as we must wait for the fulfillment of a divine promise. That’s why those promises, whether written in Scripture or whispered into our hearts, almost never come with a date certain.It can be difficult to appreciate the value of the Lord’s loving ambiguity when it requires us to linger in that suspended state where circumstances press in, deadlines pass, and the pressure mounts to act. But in those deeply challenging times, when we make the choice to trust God and resist the temptation to just DO something, we’ll find the result of that sustained faith will ultimately clear the haze, reveal the Lord’s faithfulness, and deepen our relationship with him.
As I was preparing to enter my freshman year of high school, I realized that the secondhand faith I’d inherited from my parents wasn’t going to be strong enough to bear the weight of my future. I knew if I was going to live as a genuine Christian, I would need a faith of my own. So, alone in my room before bed one evening, I prayed this sincere and simple prayer: “God, I’m not sure you even exist. But if you do and you’re the God the Bible describes, please reveal yourself to me.”Then, later that same night, I woke up with the phrase 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘑𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘢𝘯 in my mind and found myself humming a melody. So, I got up, grabbed my guitar, and as quickly as I could write, I composed a song with that phrase as its title. I was super excited because writing music had been a secret desire of mine. But I didn’t connect the dots between the song and my earlier prayer until about two months later when I was on a camping trip.I was by myself in a tent singing my little song when a pastor just happened to walk by, heard me, stuck his head in, and asked me about the music he was hearing. When I told him it was something I’d written, he complimented me on the symbolism in the lyrics. When I asked what he meant, he told me that in the Bible, the Jordan river was the threshold the Israelites crossed to enter the Promised Land and symbolizes the passage from death into eternal life. So, Christians believe the cross and resurrection of Jesus have made possible a spiritual 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘑𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘢𝘯.Until that moment, I’d had no idea about any of that, and I sat there amazed. Honestly, I thought I’d just assembled a random collection of words that sounded good together. But I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that the Maker of the Universe had answered the prayer of a sincerely seeking, teen-aged boy. And my life has never been the same since.In hindsight, the idea that I would’ve even considered withholding belief in God unless he proved himself to me, seems stunningly arrogant. But God knew my heart. I wasn’t a skeptic committed to incredulity. I wanted to believe. I just wanted my belief to be tied to personal experience. And it’s that same desire I see on display in John 20:24-31.This passage focuses on the disciple known to his contemporaries as 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘸𝘪𝘯 but who, in the centuries since, has come to be called 𝘋𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘴 because of his refusal to believe the initial reports of the resurrection. He’d been absent when Jesus appeared to the rest of the disciples on Easter evening. And in response to their excited descriptions of what happened, he said, “Unless I see in his hands the print of the nails and put MY finger into the print of the nails and put MY hand into his side, I will not believe.”But I don’t think this was the statement of a skeptic. Based on how Jesus responded, I think it’s clear the Lord heard it as the prayer of a genuine seeker desiring a first-person faith. And he showcased its value along with a willingness to answer that kind of prayer by quoting it nearly word for word when he reappeared among the disciples eight days later just so Thomas could inspect his wounds and cross the threshold into belief.The richness of the grace on display in that moment moved Thomas to cry out with reverent worship, “My Lord and my God!” But some have understood the Lord’s reply to that expression of praise as a rebuke for Thomas’ insistence on seeing before believing and a promise of reward for those who are willing to exercise blind faith instead. But blind faith, which can be defined as 𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵, is inherently dangerous. And a careful survey of Scripture makes clear that God never commands or promotes such unsupported belief.Biblical faith is always the result of a choice based on what someone has experienced of God. And the blessing Jesus referred to here was an assurance that there was a pathway to that kind of belief even for those who would never see him in the flesh. This pathway is described in Romans 10:17 where we’re told, “Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the Word of God.” And that’s why John closed this passage by declaring the purpose behind what he’d included in his gospel. He said, "These are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in his name."The final eight verses of John 20 demonstrate that Jesus desires to make himself known to those who sincerely seek him, and that for those who do, God has provided in his Word everything needed for an evidence-based faith.
On the evening of the first Easter, as the disciples wrestled with the believability of Mary Magdalene’s claim that Jesus was alive, John 20:19-23 tells us that they huddled behind closed doors in fear of those who’d murdered their master. But then suddenly, there he was, standing in their midst unannounced, unexpected, and out of nowhere. So, to allay their fears and confusion he said, “Peace be with you,” and then invited them to inspect his wounds to see that he wasn’t a phantom. And as they became convinced that he was indeed their risen Lord, gladness overtook their souls. But, comforting them and setting the record straight about his resurrection weren’t the only items on his agenda.After reiterating his blessing of peace to assure his disciples that just as with his sudden appearance, they could receive what he was about to say next without fear, he began bringing into focus all that their apprenticeship to him had been leading toward. He conferred on them their ministry vocation, initiated their connection to the one who would resource their ability to complete it, and described what was at stake in its fulfillment. And it must have seemed to those men as though the pieces of a puzzle were finally coming together.When Jesus said, “As the Father has sent me, I also send you,” it wasn’t the first time they’d heard this. They would have recalled recently overhearing him referring to them using a nearly identical sentence as he prayed to his Father (John 17:18). And from the earliest days of their relationship with him, Jesus had called them 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴 (Luke 6:13), which means 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴. So, when he commissioned them that night with these words, they must have recognized that this was what he’d been preparing them for all along.Then, when he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit,” they would have understood that this wasn’t a change of subject. Because Jesus had taught them to anticipate the Spirit’s role in empowering their lives and ministries (John 14:16-18; 16:7-15), they would have realized he meant that their 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 was directly dependent on their 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥. And they wouldn’t have missed the significance of him breathing on them. The Greek word translated as 𝘚𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵 here means 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩. Just as in the beginning when Adam came to life by the breath of God (Genesis 2:7), they would have grasped that Jesus was inviting them to become spiritually alive by inhaling the Holy Breath.Although this was certainly pointing forward to the Day of Pentecost when the disciples would be empowered for ministry by receiving the 𝘣𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 the Spirit (Luke 24:49; Acts 1:4, 8; 2:1-4), Jesus was also addressing their immediate need for the 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 the Spirit. Since saving faith rests on the belief that God has raised Jesus from the dead (Roman 10:9), this post-resurrection encounter with him provided the first opportunity for the disciples to be born again (John 3:7) according to Scripture. And it’s the indwelling of the Spirit that defines that rebirth (John 3:5-6; Romans 8:9).The Lord’s next words can sound as though he was giving the disciples power to forgive or retain sins. But there’s nothing in the rest of the New Testament or church history that indicates they understood what he said in that way. They would have interpreted him in the context of what he’d just been saying. Jesus was clarifying the serious responsibility inherent in their calling as sent ones. Nothing less than the forgiveness of the sins of those to whom they would minister was at stake. The choice to receive or reject that forgiveness and its eternal consequences would rest on the proclamation of the gospel that was being entrusted to them.That same gospel has been entrusted to all of us who follow in the footsteps of their faith. And it’s clear that what Jesus said to his disciples that night applies to us too. He’s called us to be his sent ones empowered by his Spirit to proclaim his sobering offer of grace to a world in desperate need.
Immediately following his resurrection, Jesus dictated a message to be sent to his closest followers, and John 20:17-18 tells its story. Considering the magnitude of the moment, its brevity is startling. But surely no other single sentence has ever communicated more. Its content, how it was addressed, and the choice of the one entrusted to deliver it, all spoke volumes.The grief, confusion, and desperation experienced by Mary Magdalene following the death of her Savior and the disappearance of his body were relieved in the moment he appeared to her, tenderly called her name, and gave her an assignment. He commissioned her to bear this communiqué to his apprentices, which also meant she would be testifying to his resurrection. But she was literally the least likely person for the job. Sadly, in first century Israel, women were not considered reliable witnesses. And although Jesus had set her free from spiritual bondage (Luke 8:2), Mary would likely still have carried the stigma of having once been demon possessed. So, it’s easy to see that there would have been a problem with her perceived credibility. In fact, Luke’s account of this (24:11) specifically notes she was not believed.But even though Jesus could have appeared to Peter and John instead when they’d been at the tomb just moments earlier and could have sent them to bear witness of his resurrection and convey his message, he chose not to. So, we can only conclude he deliberately appointed Mary for this critical assignment despite and perhaps even because of her gender and her past. Regardless, since we can all identify with the feeling of being unqualified for service to the Savior, this choice continues to communicate the Lord’s willingness to use people just like us to bear his good news to the world.Until this point in his gospel, John quoted Jesus referring to his primary group of followers using three different terms that seem to indicate a progression: from servants (15:15) to disciples (8:31) to friends (15:14-15). But here, on the other side of the cross, the Lord addressed them using a word that takes that relational progression to another level. He made a point of instructing Mary to go to his brethren, a term John had used exclusively in relation to blood relatives prior to this. So, the change is notable and makes clear that Jesus was highlighting the deeper relationship with himself now available to those men. It’s simply breathtaking to hear him speak of them in that richly familial way and to realize that by doing so, he was saying the same thing about us. To all who are being sanctified by his amazing grace, both men and women, Hebrews 2:11 says, “He is not ashamed to call them brethren.”And if that weren’t wonderful enough, because it’s true, when Jesus told Mary to tell the disciples, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, and to my God and your God,” he was speaking to us too. And with those few words, he was outlining the entirely new paradigm his sacrifice and triumph has made possible for comprehending how we, once cut off by our sin, can be FULLY reconciled to our creator. Through his incarnation, Jesus had so thoroughly identified with us that he could join us in addressing his Father as “my God.” And through his crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension, our Savior has made it possible for us to be so thoroughly identified with him that we can now join him in addressing God as “our Father.”No message has ever contained more glorious news, been addressed with a more ennobling salutation, or been conveyed by a more unexpected envoy. And in each of those aspects, it continues to speak to all who will listen.
John 20:17 contains the text of what is certainly the most important message ever sent. It was from Jesus to his disciples, contained eternity-altering revelations, and………was entrusted to the most unlikely messenger.But before exploring the impact of that message and its messenger, let’s consider its prologue. Jesus had just revealed himself alive from the dead to Mary Magdalene. And with the realization of what was happening starting to flood her awareness and replace her desperation with elation, Jesus began an astounding paragraph by addressing her with the phrase, “Do not cling to me.”Those words have always puzzled Bible commentators because they seem inconsistent with some of the other accounts of resurrection appearances in the gospels. For instance, Matthew’s (28:9) description of the Lord’s appearance to the women at the tomb portrays them worshipping him with their arms around his feet. And Luke’s (24:39) account of the Lord’s subsequent appearance to his disciples records Jesus specifically inviting them to “handle” him to confirm that he had flesh and bones.Although exactly why Jesus said this to Mary will likely remain a mystery this side of eternity, at least a couple of things are clear. By telling her not to cling to him, he was highlighting the fact that it would have been possible for her to do so. The one who spoke those words was not a phantom or disembodied spirit that could be dismissed as the figment of an overactive imagination. Jesus was present with Mary in a very physical body that had been literally raised from death to life and could have been held on to. This inference by Jesus was surely intentional because the truth of his BODILY resurrection is the reality that serves as the foundation for saving faith (1 Corinthians 15:17).But beyond that, Jesus told Mary he didn’t want her to cling to him because the work of redemption was still in process. He said, “I have not yet ascended to my Father.” The crucifixion where the penalty for sin was paid, and the resurrection that secured eternal life for the forgiven, had been accomplished. But the ascension that would precipitate the outpouring of the Holy Spirit to empower Christian life and ministry was still to come.As crucial as it was for Jesus to establish the reality of his triumph over death by physically appearing to his followers, it was equally important for him to help them understand that this was not the end of the story. He was helping Mary orient her anticipation beyond what he’d already done toward what he was about to do.Prior to his arrest, Jesus had told his disciples (John 16:7), “It is to your advantage that I go away; for if I do not go away, the Helper will not come to you; but if I depart, I will send Him to you.” If we fail to grasp the profound implications of the ascension, we miss something essential to the gospel. Paving the way for the person and power of the Spirit of God to reside in and flow through the redeemed is fundamental to a full embrace of what Jesus came to do. It’s simply not possible to overstate that.But if we’re not careful, like Mary, we believers have the potential of becoming a little too CLINGY with the resurrection. It’s easy to become fixated on its benefits because they’re so overwhelmingly glorious. Forgiveness of sins and eternal life are gifts beyond measure, and our lifetimes will not supply sufficient space to even come close to adequately exploring their riches. Yet even as we cherish those treasures of grace, let’s make the choice to also allow our risen Lord to introduce us more fully to the ministry of the Spirit his ascension makes possible.
I buy an iced coffee from a Starbucks near my home almost every day, and as a result, I’ve gotten to know most of the partners at that store. They even greet me by name when I walk in. And although I know it’s their job to do that, I still appreciate the kindness of being recognized. So, I always try to return the favor.But one day, while I was visiting a friend in another city about thirty miles away, we went to a Starbucks in his neighborhood. And while I was waiting for my drink, I heard, “Hi, Randy.” I was Surprised to hear my name in that unfamiliar context. So, I quickly turned to see who’d spoken and found myself across the bar from one of my hometown baristas. He just happened to be subbing there that morning. I felt terrible that I hadn’t noticed him. But that’s when I discovered how easy it is to fail to recognize someone you’re not expecting to see. And I think that’s what happened in John 20:11-16.Mary Magdalene had waited outside Jesus’ tomb weeping while Peter and John went inside to verify her claim that the body was missing. After they’d left, while still processing a powerful mix of emotions, she took another look for herself. But this time, besides the discarded grave clothes, she saw two angels sitting there. And I’m glad John described them as such, because we would never guess their angelic identity from his account of how Mary reacted to them.The relative handful of scriptural references to human encounters with these heavenly beings are always marked by responses of intense reverence and humility. But we don’t see any of that on this occasion. In fact, the text describes Mary interacting with them as if they were nothing more than cemetery groundskeepers who might know something about the disappearance of the missing corpse.The other gospels fill out this scene and make it clear that Mary did understand who she was speaking to, but her singular focus was on full display. For her, nothing was more important at that moment than finding out what happened to her Lord’s body, not even an angelic visitation. And I think that explains what happened next.She turned around and saw Jesus, but didn’t recognize him. Even after he asked her why she was crying, her familiarity with his voice failed to register. Her frame of reference was so shaped by what she thought she understood the circumstances to be, and she was so emotionally invested in that narrative, she mistook the resurrected Messiah for a gardener. That is until…he spoke her name. When he lovingly broke through the tears, the frenzy, and the fears with that tender reminder that he knew exactly who she was, where she was, and what she needed, suddenly, recognition flooded her being and changed everything.Jesus has promised to be with us always (Matthew 28:20) and to never leave or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5). But it’s entirely possible to miss out on the benefit of those promises. And this passage forces me to consider, with regret, the many occasions I’ve failed to recognize the presence of my Savior when he’s shown up in the circumstances of my life in a form I wasn’t expecting. There have been too many times I’ve cried out in prayer asking the Lord to meet me in the midst of my heartache, uncertainty, and confusion so convinced I knew what the arrival of his comfort, wisdom, and guidance would look like that I’ve failed to discern his nearness.But I’m learning that in those times when I can’t seem to see him, if I stop squirming, quiet my thoughts, and listen with my spirit I can hear him call my name. And it turns out that the assurance of being known and loved by God is what the presence of Jesus actually looks like.
John chapter 20 opens with Mary Magdalene going to Jesus’ tomb in the predawn hours on the Sunday following his crucifixion. We know from the other gospels that she’d gone there to complete the burial process that had been interrupted by the Sabbath. But when she arrived, she discovered the stone that had been used to cover the entrance had been rolled away and the body was gone.From that point through the next 9 verses, the narrative almost sounds like coverage of a track meet. Mary took off running to find Peter and John. Then, the two of them ran to the tomb to check it out for themselves with John arriving first because he’d outrun Peter. And it’s implied that Mary chased after them back to the tomb because verse 11 says she remained there when Peter and John returned home. And that undoubtedly involved even more running as they rushed to share with others what they’d seen.But this passage isn’t about a frantic foot race. It’s about a journey to faith in the risen Christ. And that’s not always an easy road to navigate. The resurrection can be a significant intellectual obstacle for many. But everything about God’s plan to redeem humanity rests on this truth. In fact, I Corinthians 15:17 puts it this way, “If Christ is not risen, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins!”So, John, who once again referred to himself simply as a 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘮 𝘑𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥, used his own testimony to illustrate the path forward. In verses 5-8, he employed three different Greek words, each translated into the English text as 𝘴𝘢𝘸, to mark the three distinct stages in a progression of perception that enabled him to cross the threshold into belief and can help us to do the same.He was the first of the two disciples to arrive at the tomb. Although he didn’t initially go inside, we’re told he 𝘴𝘢𝘸 the grave clothes. And in this instance, he used a word that means to behold or become aware of something. It describes the kind of casual seeing that happens whenever we open our eyes. But he used another word to express the way Peter 𝘴𝘢𝘸 the scene after arriving and choosing to enter the tomb. It’s a word that emphasizes a more purposeful, observant way of seeing. Then, when describing what happened after he chose to join Peter inside and view the evidence from that angle, John used a different word altogether. This one characterizes the kind of seeing that leads to comprehension. And that’s what was happening when we’re told he 𝘴𝘢𝘸 and believed.Like John, we begin this journey when we’re willing to stop and consider the evidence for the resurrection. We take the next step when we carefully weigh that evidence and its profound implications. And things really pick up speed when we allow all of that to shape our understandings about ourselves, God, and eternity. But even then, we’re just getting started.It's obvious that John’s faith was still a work in progress. He candidly admitted in verse 9 that the disciples hadn’t yet understood Scripture’s resurrection prophecies, and it’s clear they had a way to go before comprehending and assimilating all that Jesus had taught them about God’s redemption plan. But significant strides were taken that day.A life of faith in the living Jesus doesn’t just erupt fully formed out of unbelief. Neither does it arrive at the end of a short sprint. It’s gained through a process that nearly always involves something more like a cross-country race where the distance between where you start and finish is only closed by carefully navigating the terrain you encounter along the way.So, like it says in Hebrew 12:1-2, “Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith.”
When I was a young man, I toured with a Christian rock band, and in 1977, we recorded a live concert for television to promote the release of an album. The show was captured from different angles by a variety of cameras, and their individual feeds were edited together to create the version for broadcast. But immediately after the performance, our band had to get back out on the road. So, we didn’t get to see the finished version when it aired. But nearly a decade later, while visiting a distribution warehouse, I was shocked and thrilled to find an original video tape from that concert in a random box just sitting on one of the shelves. It was the feed from only one of the cameras and doesn’t capture everything. But because of its distinct vantage point, it preserves aspects of the performance that likely didn’t appear in the televised version. So, I’ve come to appreciate the value of that camera’s point of view.A point of view is the perspective from which something is observed or experienced. And the accounts of the resurrection of Jesus contained in the New Testament vary a bit from each other because of that. Each person who lived through that event experienced it from within the context of their individual perspective. It’s one story with the same start and finish, but it’s wrapped around an assortment of other stories taking place inside it because of the witnesses’ different frames of reference. And the gospel writers had their OWN points of view. Under the direction of the Holy Spirit, each of them had a distinct purpose for their writing and a different audience in mind when they made the choices about which of the stories within the story to include. Taken together, though, it’s like having the opportunity to view the same scene through the lenses of different cameras. And that provides us with a fuller, richer picture of what happened.But there’s also value in tightening the focus and zeroing in on a single vantage point to savor the unique details it captures. And that’s the choice John made for his account of the discovery of the empty grave and revelation of the risen Savior. The first verse of chapter 20 sets those events within the frame of a single point of view. According to the other gospels, there were several women who came to Jesus’ tomb early on the first Easter morning. But John only mentions one of them, Mary Magdalene.Magdalene was not her last name. It’s a reference to where she came from, the city of Magdala. And maybe where she came from is part of the reason why her viewpoint was important to John. I’m not referring to the geographical location of her past but to what she experienced there. According to Luke (8:2), she had lived under the horrors inflicted on her soul by seven demonic spirits until she encountered Jesus and was set from that bondage. As a result, the intensity of her devotion to him was on full display as she moved from grief over his death through confusion at the disappearance of his body to the joy of his resurrection appearance. It was as if nothing and no one else mattered. And maybe her point of view reveals something about God’s.Isn’t that the way he loves us, as though nothing and no one else matters? Yes, the Bible says he loves the whole world (John 3:16), but it also describes him as a shepherd who’s willing to leave the ninety-nine to rescue the one lost lamb (Matthew 18:11-13). And once when Jesus was pressing through the push and shove of a sizeable crowd, he still knew when one specific woman reached out and touched the hem of his garment. We’re told he sought her, made eye contact with her, spoke to her, and ministered healing to her as if she was the only person there (Luke 8:43-48).God’s love is intently focused on each of us individually. And in those times when we’re tempted to believe otherwise, may the Holy Spirit remind us that we are his point of view.
John 19:38-42 supplies details regarding Jesus’ burial. But it also records a remarkable account of bold, risky, and unexpected faith exercised by two members of the Jewish elite. Both were part of the Sanhedrin – the religious leadership council – and both, until this point, had been timid Christ-followers.One of them, Joseph from the city of Arimathea, is mentioned in all four of the canonical gospels. Although the other three describe various additional aspects of Joseph’s identity and character, in his account, John focused on the fact that he was someone who kept his belief in Jesus a secret for fear of how his fellow religious leaders might react if they found out.The other man was named Nicodemus. He only appears in the Gospel of John but is mentioned on three occasions. The first occurred early in the Lord’s ministry (John 3:1-21) when Nicodemus’ spiritual hunger compelled him to seek answers. But we’re told he approached Jesus at night under cover of darkness to avoid being seen associating with him.Both men clearly tried to keep their faith a private affair. So, it’s truly shocking when even while adrift in the high tide of heartache, confusion, and disillusionment they must have been experiencing in the aftermath of the crucifixion, they steeled themselves to take a very public and dangerous stand of solidarity with Jesus by assuming responsibility for his burial.The Lord’s closest followers had all gone into hiding. But instead of running away, Joseph shoved his secret faith out into the open and courageously approached Pilate for permission to take possession of the body. Then, Nicodemus escorted his own belief out of the shadows and brought 100 pounds of spices, likely purchased at his own expense, to join Joseph in preparing the corpse according to Jewish custom. And finally, together, they placed Christ’s remains in a new tomb owned by Joseph (Matthew 27:60) and conveniently located in a garden nearby.After this, both men exit the pages of Scripture and into legend. So, even though we may desperately desire to hear the rest of the story, we simply can’t know what happened next. Our questions regarding the impact of the resurrection on their lives, how the rest of the religious elite reacted to their stand, and how their expressions of faith in that darkest of times directed their futures must remain unanswered.But this is certain. There was no turning back. They were now on record as being among those who followed the Nazarene. To the extent they’d previously been able to keep that fact hidden, it would no longer be possible. Their commitment to Jesus, once private and theoretical, was now public and material.But true faith can only reveal itself when challenged. Like the strength of a muscle that can’t be fully assessed unless exercised against resistance, belief in Jesus is merely philosophical until acted on in the face of circumstances that push against it. That’s what makes the story of Joseph and Nicodemus so powerful and why we should all pray to be more like them.If you’ve been someone who’s tried to play your faith close to the vest but are finding it increasingly difficult to do so while being squeezed between the rocks and hard places of life or when under direct satanic assault, I encourage you to remember Joe and Nick. It’s time to make the choice they made.
My wife and I have had parents pass into eternity in recent years, and we’ve learned firsthand that among the many unexpected decisions confronting surviving loved ones is determining how much and what aspects of the deceased’s history to preserve. Wading through all their photos, slides, videos, digital files, journals, papers, and keepsakes – not to mention financial records, clothing, home décor, and other possessions – can feel overwhelming. So, I can’t begin to imagine what it must have been like for John to be summoned by the Holy Spirit into the process of curating a record of the life of Jesus for his gospel.He described the challenge as staggering in chapter 21 verse 25. But in chapter 20 verse 31, he explained the approach the Spirit led him to adopt for making the difficult editing decisions when he said, “These are written that you may BELIEVE that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that BELIEVING you may have life in his name.”With that statement, the apostle made clear that of all the details he could have included, his account was fine-tuned to inspire faith. And one of the ways he accomplished that was by quoting Old Testament, messianic prophecies and noting the ways God fulfilled them through and within the Savior’s ministry. Chapter 19 verses 31-37 contain two examples of this. Both involve events that occurred after the Lord’s death making their fulfillment even more belief-producing.Jesus was crucified on the Day of Preparation for the first Sabbath of the week-long Feast of Unleavened Bread, the most sacred season on the Jewish calendar. For that reason and because of a command in the Mosaic law (Deuteronomy 21:22-23) requiring that the body of anyone hung on a tree be buried on the same day, the Jewish leaders pressed Pilate to hasten the deaths of Jesus and the thieves. The religious clock was ticking, and they were anxious to get the corpses buried.So, soldiers were dispatched to break the legs of the dying men and make it harder for them to push themselves up to breathe. The text describes that they brutalized the thieves in this way but not Jesus because he’d already died. And John carefully noted that this was the fulfillment of a prophecy made by King David 1,000 years earlier and recorded in Psalm 34:20 where it says, “Not one of his bones shall be broken.”Then, just to be certain Jesus was dead, one of the soldiers pierced the side of his lifeless body with a spear causing a mix of blood and water to flow from the wound. Many Bible commentators believe the specific description of the blood and water hold symbolic spiritual significance; many physicians believe it provides medical clues for the cause of death; and many Christian apologists believe it counters the argument of resurrection deniers that Jesus didn’t really die. And all of that may be true. But what is certain is that this piercing was not a random act. It was foretold. It was the realization of a prophecy made 500 years previous and recorded in Zechariah 12:10: “They shall look on him whom they pierced.”John considered this pair of proofs for the Lord’s messiahship so powerful that in verse 35 he paused the narrative to insert a claim for the trustworthiness of his account. Referring to himself, he said, “He who has SEEN has testified, and his testimony is TRUE…so that you may BELIEVE.”It would be easy to undervalue this part of the crucifixion record. None of the other gospel writers included these details. But John’s unique purpose compelled him to tell this part of Christ’s story and emphasize its importance. So, let’s tread reverently here and be willing to linger in the presence of the Holy Spirit who inspired these words, allowing him to use them to strengthen our faith.
Decades ago, I took part in a study designed to help teams and their leaders understand each other better and work together more effectively. At its conclusion, each participant received a report describing their personality type and the work environment they would most likely thrive in. And I still vividly recall my reaction to a couple of sentences in the summary I was given. They read, “Randy is a 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳. He is at his best and most productive when given an assignment that allows him to fully own the details of a project and see it through from inception to completion.”The observation that I’m a 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳 captivated me. For the first time, I had language to describe this aspect of my makeup. It was an illuminating discovery, but it also exposed a significant problem because almost nothing in life is ever really finished. There’s nearly always more that could be done if additional energy, passion, time, creativity, or skill were applied. And suddenly, I understood the source of the low-grade frustration that seemed to perpetually pursue me.But the Holy Spirit used that revelation to get my attention about a critical issue in my Christian life. I’d become subconsciously skeptical regarding anything ever really being fully accomplished, and it was keeping me from embracing the unfathomable depths of grace contained in the dying words of Jesus.John 19:28-30 records that in the final moments of his crucifixion, fully aware the plan of redemption had reached its climax, Jesus first ensured that an additional item could be checked off the list of messianic prophecies. When he said, “I thirst,” and was offered a sponge dipped in vinegar, he was fulfilling a prophetic description of the suffering Christ from Psalm 22:15. But immediately after that and just before bowing his head to surrender his spirit, he uttered the most profound claim ever voiced: “It…is…finished.”That short English sentence translates a Greek word that is less about the conclusion of something and more about that thing being completed in full. Referring to the plan of salvation, Jesus was not saying, “Close enough, let’s call it good.” He was declaring that in exhaustive detail he’d fully accomplished EVERYTHING required to pay the penalty for humanity’s rebellion against God, open the pathway for us to enjoy a restored relationship of seamless love with our maker, and redeem all creation from the corrosive effects of sin.Jesus left no aspect of his mission undone. Unlike human endeavors, his work was finished in the absolute sense. There’s nothing that can be added to make it more complete. The salvation his sufferings purchased is paid for in full. And although they are appropriate responses to the grace he secured for us, no act of obedience, devotion, or repentance on our part can increase its availability to us. Its benefits are ours to access by simple faith.But accepting, trusting, and resting in the conclusive work of the cross can be a challenge for us. It was for me. In fact, it’s so unlike our lived experience it requires a form of faith God himself must provide. That’s why Ephesians 2:8 says, “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God.” But it literally changes our eternity when we choose to receive that gift and finally settle into the realization that the one who fully performed ALL that was required to rescue us from sin and its curse is also the one who enables us to enjoy the new life he made possible for us as the divine 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳.
I was twenty-one when I pulled my car to the entrance of Little Company of Mary hospital in Torrance, CA to pick up my wife and our first child from the maternity ward. After Sue was seated and I’d placed our newborn in her lap – child car seats weren’t a thing in those days – I closed the passenger door and began making my way to the driver’s side. But just as I was rounding the trunk, the Lord spoke to me.I don’t say that casually. Please believe me that claiming to have received a message directly from the Sovereign of the Universe is NOT something I do lightly. But I’m convinced I heard from God in that moment. It came as a distinct, unbidden impression to my thoughts. And that impression was so strong, I would have sworn it was an audible voice. As I was about to get behind the wheel to drive my little family home and embark on the fatherhood journey that would define the rest of my days, I heard, “Your life is over.”Now, that may seem like an unartful way for the Maker and Master of All Things to communicate, but I knew EXACTLY what he meant. He was emphatically marking the boundary where my self-centered life was to end and where a lifetime of caring for others precious to HIM would begin. And as I consider the moving story accounted in John 19:25-27, I think it describes a similar commissioning that took place in the gospel writer’s own life.Among the women specifically identified in the text as positioned near the cross and present with the Lord in his agony, was his mother. She was most likely a widow at that point in her life, and the realities of the time made it nearly impossible for a woman to provide for herself alone. As the oldest son in His family, Jesus had a cultural obligation to care for His mom. So, even in the throes of his unimaginable suffering, this tender passage describes how Jesus ensured her needs would be met in the aftermath of his passing.Why the Lord didn’t leave this responsibility to his half-brothers or other relatives can’t be known. But it may have been due in part to the fact that they didn’t yet believe in him as Messiah according to John 7:5. Regardless, Jesus chose for this role one of his closest friends, the one who described himself humbly and without presumption as, “the disciple whom he loved.”With his physical life draining away and in what must have been a weak and labored voice, Jesus first spoke to his mother. He addressed her with a tender word of endearment and respect translated into English as 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯, and referring to john he said, “Behold your son.” Then, Jesus locked eyes with his disciple and spoke three simple words that changed his life: “Behold your mother.”I think John knew EXACTLY what Jesus meant. Of course, it included taking immediate action to provide Mary with a roof over her head. And the original language makes clear John began caring for her in every way as if she were his own mother. But much more than that, I believe John understood this marked the boundary where his self-centered life would end and where a lifetime of caring for others precious to the Savior would begin. It set him on the path to becoming one of the “pillars” of the church according to Galatians 2:9 and to authoring five of the books of the New Testament.Do I believe a few words from Jesus could have that kind of impact on the course of someone’s life? Yes, absolutely. And as you consider this part of the crucifixion account, I feel compelled to ask you to listen for any boundary-marking words the Lord may want to speak to you through it. They may be simple, but I bet you’ll know EXACTLY what he means.
In the fall of 2008, my wife was away on a personal retreat seeking the Lord in prayer regarding his plans for the next season of her life, and she felt her heart drawn to Isaiah chapter 41. Several parts of that passage spoke to her deeply, especially the phrases, “Fear not, for I am with you,” and “Those who war against you shall be as nothing.” While meditating on those prophetic promises, she sensed the Lord was comforting her in advance of a challenging trial.Two weeks later, she was rushed into the operating room at our local hospital for emergency abdominal surgery that revealed a bleeding, ruptured lesion the size of a football and a diagnosis of stage-four, untreatable, incurable, terminal, adrenal cancer. And although I’m thrilled to be able to jump to the conclusion of that story and tell you she experienced a miraculous healing in the end, that wouldn’t happen until after a five-year period of holding tightly to those promises the Lord had highlighted for her in Isaiah. They would anchor both of us through the toughest season of our lives.But it was a tiny detail from that passage that would ultimately affect me the most. Referring to God’s triumph over Israel’s adversaries, the first part of Isaiah 41:12 says, "You shall seek them and not find them." So, you can imagine the explosion of joy I experienced when during Sue’s final surgery – after having seen with my own eyes the results of two different types of medical imaging that revealed the return of this aggressive disease – her surgeon left the operating room to tell me that although he could offer no logical explanation, he hadn’t been able to locate the cancer anywhere.Since then, I read John 19:23-24 differently.It describes how the soldiers tasked with Christ’s crucifixion went about dividing up his clothing among themselves and determining which of them would get to keep his seamless tunic. At first glance, this sad bit of subplot doesn’t seem to have any bearing on the redemption narrative. But in verse 24 when John quotes from the book of Psalms (22:18) to remind his readers that these details had been specifically foretold 600 years earlier, suddenly, the impact and importance of this seemingly insignificant part of the story become clear and demand attention.In Ezekiel 12:25, the Lord says, “I speak, and the word which I speak will come to pass." This is true not only in generalities. It’s also true in specifics. Matthew 5:18 quotes Jesus saying, “Till heaven and earth pass away, one jot or one tittle will by no means pass from the law till all is fulfilled.” The word translated into English as 𝘫𝘰𝘵 refers to the smallest letter in the Hebrew alphabet, and the word 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 refers to a small stroke that distinguishes one Hebrew letter from another. In other words, Jesus meant that even the tiniest details of God’s promises will be fully realized.As someone who has experienced the glory that can be packed into those tiny details, I bear witness that our God is extremely careful with his words. In the best sense of this colloquialism, “he sweats the small stuff.” The jots and tittles matter to him.I’ll be forever grateful they do.
In just two days, I’ll celebrate the glories of Easter with exultant believers around the globe. But today, I join the family of the redeemed in remembering the price of our salvation and the love that paid it. It’s Good Friday. And this year, I’m determined not to just give token consideration to the crucifixion while on my way to basking in the glow of Christ’s resurrection. The measure of our Savior’s suffering and sacrifice deserves more than that. So, I invite you to join me in taking a fresh look at John 19:17-22.It tells us that the blameless Son of God, having already been unjustly and severely tortured, was forced to shoulder a heavy chunk of rough-hewn timber and carry it outside Jerusalem to an infamous site known as 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘚𝘬𝘶𝘭𝘭. And there, he bore a far greater weight, the totality of humanity’s sin. John spares us the gruesome details, but we know what he meant by using the word 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥. Nails were driven into the Lord’s hands and feet to secure him to the cross he’d carried. And then, it was raised upright so crowds could gawk at his naked, bleeding body as he hung there with his precious life draining away.As I ponder that horrible scene, I’m finding myself drawn to the juxtaposition of a couple of details I really haven’t explored before. They involve those crucified alongside Jesus that day and the sign attached to his cross. Any historical record is the product of choices made concerning what details are reported and why. So, I’m intrigued to consider the Holy Spirit’s purposes in leading John to include these.Verse 18 says there were two others executed with Jesus. The Gospels of Matthew (27:38, 44) and Mark (15:27) describe them with a Greek word translated as 𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴. But according to 𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘦'𝘴 𝘌𝘹𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘋𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘺, the original word refers to someone “who plunders openly and by violence.” They weren’t just petty thieves. And the fact we’re told the cross of Jesus was specifically placed in the 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 between theirs seems to indicate something the Spirit meant to be noted.After that, four full verses of precious textual real estate are devoted to describing the sign affixed to Jesus’ cross. It was common practice in crucifixions for a placard to be made stating the criminal’s offence and attached as a warning to observers about what happens to lawbreakers. But in this case, Pilate had repeatedly declared Jesus to be innocent. And since no crime had officially been committed, it made the composition of the sign a bit of a challenge. Regardless, the passage states that the wording was ultimately dictated by the governor himself and that he vigorously defended it against the objections of the chief priests. They wanted it to sound like an accusation not an announcement. But Pilate was adamant that it read, “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.”Throughout my life I’ve seen depictions of the three crosses raised on that dark day illustrated with Christ’s in the middle. But an awareness of the symbolism of that motif has never captured me as it has this Good Friday. The Father’s plan of redemption could not be accomplished from a safe distance. It required that Jesus physically step into the midst of our corruption so he could pay its penalty and deliver us from its grasp. So, it’s no surprise that 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘑𝘦𝘸𝘴 gave his life on a cross that was literally in the center of a group of sinners.On this day of reflection, my heart swells with fresh perspective on and gratitude for the truth expressed in Philippians 2:7-8 that says Jesus "made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross."
I was fourteen years old when I first lied to my parents. It was actually the only time I was ever untruthful with them. I’d just come home from a party at a friend’s house that I hadn’t told them about, and I made up a story to cover my tracks. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I definitely and sadly remember the moment. It may sound like trivial teenage stuff, but the truth is I’d crossed a line I should have never even approached. And just like every other major event in my life, good or bad, I can recall in vivid detail when and where I was when it happened. The specifics that mark those crucial intersections in our lives get indelibly written on our souls like signposts that either point to mistakes we’ve made that need to be revisited in repentance and avoided going forward or to milestones of achievement we can build on as we advance into the future.And I think my story may help illustrate one of the lessons to be found in John 19:12-16. Rendered speechless and unnerved by the authority-filled words his bruised, bleeding, but unbroken prisoner uttered in the previous verse, it describes the resulting, desperate determination of Pilate to find a way to release Jesus. But in the end, it also records how the governor surrendered to the forceful, full-throated demands for crucifixion from the Jewish leaders and their inflamed mob.Even though Pilate attempted to dissuade them by revisiting the possibility Jesus might be some kind of Jewish king after all, the crowd rejected his proposal and turned it against him with a veiled threat to report him if he didn’t comply with their demands. The Jews reminded him that his job required an unwavering loyalty to Caesar. And ultimately, blinded by their feverish bloodlust, they prevailed against Pilate by emphatically declaring their own allegiance to the Roman empire.It’s shocking to consider how the near-blasphemous statement, “We have no king but Caesar,” could have ever passed the lips of the chief priests. They were the spiritual leaders of a nation chafing under Roman rule. And they were also the ones who presided over a system of worship focused with expectancy on the coming of Messiah, the one Isaiah prophesied (9:7) would sit “upon the throne of David and over his kingdom.”So how could they do this? Sadly, I don’t think we need to look any further than our own track record for the answer. How many times have we rejected the rule of King Jesus to give ourselves permission to say or do whatever satisfied our desires in the moment? The ability to self-authorize sinful behavior is a well-developed human skill.And I believe that’s why the passage provides such a surprising number of precise details about this infamous moment. It says that Pilate was sitting on the judgment seat at a specific time on a specific day at a specific location. And just to make sure there could be no confusion regarding where it took place, it even gives us its Hebrew name.Information in the Biblical record is never superfluous. And I think John supplied these particulars to forever document this as a tragic turning point. It should serve to caution all of us regarding how easy it is to ignore the conviction of the Spirit, how deceived we can become when we do, and how far we can fall as a result. So, let’s determine to allow this signpost to lead us away from that trap and toward a deeper fidelity to Jesus instead.
As Jesus stood on display before them with the blood from his wounds seeping through the purple robe Pilate’s troops had draped over him in mockery, the religious elite pressed Pilate to finish him off by nailing him to a cross. The torture already inflicted had been at the procurator’s command in a failed attempt to appease them, but he resisted their demands for crucifixion stating, for the third time, “I find no fault in him.” Then, the balance of John 19:6-11 records a tug-of-war that followed between the governor and Christ’s accusers over the subject of authority, who possessed it and on what basis.Although the words 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 and 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺 are often used synonymously, they’re not the same thing. Power is the capability to do or accomplish something, but authority is the right to control, command, or determine it. For example, a police officer may have a gun on his belt that gives him power, but the badge on his chest is what gives him authority. In the confrontation between the Jews and the governor, there was no question who had the power to crucify Jesus. The argument was over who had the authority.The religious leaders claimed they did and that it was based on the Mosaic law contained in Scripture. They knew that Pilate was under orders from Rome to try and keep the peace among the subjugated people of Israel by respecting their laws as much as possible. So, although misapplying it, they made the case for their authority to have Jesus crucified based on Leviticus 24:16 which says, “Whoever blasphemes the name of the Lord shall surely be put to death.” They insisted that by asserting he was the Son of God, Jesus was guilty of a capital crime.This troubled Pilate. In fact, we’re told it seriously frightened him. After conducting his initial interrogation, he’d dismissed the Jewish leaders’ original accusation that Jesus claimed to be 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘑𝘦𝘸𝘴. In fact, he’d begun referring to him in derision using that phrase. But it’s clear that as both an employee of Caesar and a polytheist, he now found himself caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place. If his inaction unleashed religious unrest among the people, he would lose his job or worse. And on top of that, as someone who likely believed that offspring of the Roman gods were known to make appearances among men on occasion, he would have been terrified of the possibility he might have just signed off on having one of them whipped and beaten.So, he retreated once again with Jesus into the Praetorium out of public view and asked him to confirm where he’d come from. And he wasn’t referring to his Israeli hometown. He certainly already had that information. He wanted assurance that this enigmatic prisoner was not from among the pantheon.When Jesus refused to answer him, an indignant Pilate claimed to have the power to crucify or release him. But the word translated as 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 three times in verses 10 and 11 might be better rendered as 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺. And when the Lord finally responded to Pilate, it was to address that issue. Jesus made it clear he was not intimidated by the governor’s implied threat and set him straight regarding who held the authority in their relationship. Our Lord told the procurator that any authority he held was merely a grant 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦, which can also be translated as 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘦. In other words, Pilate had no authority over Jesus that wasn’t explicitly given to service the will of the one who holds all authority. You and I could benefit from gaining greater clarity about the fact that God’s authority is absolute. Jesus said, “All authority has been given to me in heaven and on earth” (Matthew 28:18). So, whenever we find ourselves being spiritually threatened by demonic bullies or in troubling circumstances that tempt us to fear, let’s remember that we belong to the one who loves us more than we can know and has the final say over all things.
When I’m home, I usually watch the evening news to keep up with what’s going on. But in this age of ubiquitous real-time video capturing a world becoming increasingly loveless, violent, and tragic, I’m finding the reports more difficult to watch. These days, correspondents frequently preface their stories with cautionary statements like, “This report contains images that may be disturbing.”And that would be an appropriate warning for the description of events recorded in John 19:1-5. It’s a brutal account. But even though most of us instinctively turn away from scenes of cruelty, pain, and misery, it’s important to resist that urge when confronting this passage. As hard as it is to take in, this disturbing portrait of our Lord’s suffering is essential for comprehending the dimensions of his grace.With the crowd’s insistent cries of, “Barrabas,” still ringing in Pilate’s ears and his attempt to release Jesus collapsing around him, the governor ordered our Lord whipped with a scourge. It was a hideous implement of Roman punishment designed to inflict maximum damage. Made of leather straps embedded with pieces of jagged bone or metal, it literally tore the flesh from its victims and often resulted in their deaths. But Jesus survived which provided the soldiers additional opportunities to torture him. So, they pressed a crown of thorns into his scalp, dressed him in a purple robe while berating him with verbal abuse, and then used him as a human punching bag.After that, while continuing to claim, “I find no fault in him,” the procurator proceeded to have his bruised, bleeding, and broken prisoner paraded before the inflamed crowd. Weirdly, he seems to have been trying to avoid the crucifixion of an innocent man by putting that man’s battered body on display. He apparently hoped the mob’s bloodlust would be assuaged by seeing how much pain Jesus had already endured. So, that’s why he invited them to “Behold the man!”That plan failed. But the invitation to behold or take in the scope of Christ’s suffering is something every Jesus-follower needs to do. Each part of that abuse was a fulfillment of prophecy, woven into the divine plan for our redemption, and addressed a specific aspect of our sin-scarred condition. The ultimate sacrifice of Messiah’s death on the cross was still to come, but not before he’d been wounded, bruised, chastised, and striped as explicitly predicted 700 years earlier in Isaiah 53:5.In that prophetic text, the Hebrew phase translated as 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 could be more literally rendered as 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯. And 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 might be better stated as 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺. When Isaiah continued by saying our Redeemer would experience 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, he used a word that’s most often translated as 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 or 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 but can also be understood as 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘤𝘩. This seems to better fit the context and points to the verbal abuse and false accusations Christ faced to provide us with what Isaiah described as 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦, a rendering of the word 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘮 which refers to a deep and expansive wellbeing. And finally, the prophet’s vision of the Promised One concludes by saying he would endure 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘦𝘴 or, more literally, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 by which we would be 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘥 or 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦.According to Isaiah, when our Lord’s scalp was pierced with thorns, he was paying the price for our rejection of God. When the soldiers bruised him with their fists, he was atoning for our evil. When he was subjected to the chastisement of their mockery, he was absorbing the impacts of Satan’s lies and false accusations (Revelation 12:10) so our souls could be at rest. And when he was inflicted by the stripes of the scourge, he was securing relief from all our brokenness.Although deeply heartbreaking to consider, the Bible’s detailed accounts of Christ’s suffering provide us a humbling, moving, and reverence-producing vision of God’s grace. And that’s why it’s essential for each of us to regularly stop and, “Behold the man!”
John 18:39-40 documents a very odd exchange between Pilate and the Jewish leaders that ultimately reveals the spectacular beauty of the gospel.After conducting his own interrogation of Jesus, Pilate determined he was not guilty of the charges brought by the Jewish leaders. In fact, the governor said, “I find no fault in him AT ALL.” However, instead of upholding the law and commanding the release of this prisoner he’d just declared to be innocent, he decided to try and appease the representatives of the high priest. He presented them with a convoluted offer apparently designed to help them save face. He asked if they wanted him to set Jesus free as the recipient of their Passover clemency tradition.Given his position of authority, it must have then come as a shock when they not only rejected his proposal but literally shrieked their surprising response shouting, “Not this man, but Barabbas!” Their bloodlust was at fever pitch. And if he hadn’t understood that before, he certainly did then. They were demanding that someone who was a convicted criminal, guilty of violent theft according to John as well as insurrection and murder according to Luke (23:19), be released in place of the guiltless one Pilate had labeled, “King of the Jews.”It was a perverse and ugly scene but one that, like a dark background enhancing the experience of an exquisite work of art displayed against it, highlights the glory of God’s grace provided in Christ. We know from the other Gospels (e.g. Mark 15:15) that Pilate acquiesced to the demands of the religious leaders by releasing Barabbas and ultimately delivering Jesus to them for crucifixion. The life of the faultless was taken in exchange for the guilty.And that should not only sound familiar, but it should also drive us to our knees in worship before the one who offered his sinless son to shoulder our iniquity and take upon himself the penalty we deserve that we might be set free from guilt and be clothed with his innocence. As 2 Corinthians 5:21 says, “He made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.”The impact of the truth conveyed by those words and the love that made it possible are beyond human capacity to even begin to comprehend. But from one Barabbas to another, let me just say that I want to spend every moment of the forgiven eternity I’ve received, as a result of the exchange that verse describes, in a manner that honors the one who willingly exchanged his life for mine.
I’m an introvert and very comfortable with silence, but I love the sound of my wife’s voice. And I delight in pursuing the treasures to be discovered when she speaks. Whether she’s asking me to pass the salt, telling me about her day, or verbally processing something she’s going through, I find myself wanting to be present and fully engaged with each syllable.We’re all naturally compelled to listen to and invest in the process of understanding what someone says when we have a deep connection with them. So, that should be most true within a relationship to Jesus. But I know that some Christ-followers struggle to hear him and have even subconsciously concluded that they’re just not meant to be included in the conversation. If that’s you, I invite you to consider the message at the heart of John 18:33-38.The high priest and Sanhedrin had fraudulently convicted Jesus of blasphemy, sentenced him to death (Matthew 26:65-66), and sent him with their representatives to secure a crucifixion order from the Roman governor. But Pilate was unwilling to simply rubber-stamp their plan. So, he brought the Lord inside the 𝘗𝘳𝘢𝘦𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘶𝘮, away from his accusers, to interrogate him for himself.He began by parroting a phrase the Jewish leaders must have used in their indictment when he asked, “Are you the King of the Jews?” So, the Lord called him out on that, and a frustrated Pilate rephrased the question as, “What have you done?” But since Jesus hadn’t DONE anything illegal, he responded by circling back to the original question, schooled the governor on its absurdity, and then declared, “My kingdom is not from here.”At that point, Pilate thought he’d caught him in an admission of guilt. So, he asked, “Are you a king then?” Jesus acknowledged that he was, but described his kingly mission in terms the Roman procurator would have had a hard time grasping. In Pilate’s experience, Monarchs were focused on only two things: gaining and maintaining power. But Jesus said he’d come into the world to “bear witness to the truth.”The Greek word translated as 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩 in that phrase is 𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘢 and it’s used twice more in this passage. It refers to an essential reality. According to German theologian, Hermann Cremer, it’s "the manifested, veritable essence of a matter." John had previously used the same word in chapter 14 verse 6 to quote Jesus saying, “I am…the truth.” So, we know the Lord was talking about something he IS, not just something he KNOWS. When he told Pilate that his royal vocation was to be truth’s witness, he was claiming to be its physical manifestation.Then, Jesus built on that revelation and took it a step further when he said, “Everyone who is of the truth hears my voice.” It’s an astounding sentence that begins with the same word translated as 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 in the most familiar verse in the New Testament, John 3:16, where Jesus described the wide-open door to eternal life available to those who believe in him. In a similar way, it’s used here to declare that this promise is for ANYONE who is “of the truth,” or has entered into a relationship with him as the 𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘢 of God. He said they will not only hear his words, but, more literally, understand what he’s saying.So, it’s unimaginably tragic that just before returning to the Jewish leaders to render a verdict of innocence, Pilate physically turned away from Jesus, rejected his implied invitation, and mumbled a rhetorical question that dismissed 𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘢 as unknowable.Let’s be careful not to make the same mistake. 𝘈𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘢 is knowable in the person of Jesus the Christ, not only in the academic sense, but in the relational sense. And he made it clear he intends to make his voice heard and his message clear to ALL, not just some, of those who come to know him. I encourage you to join me in allowing this wonderful promise to shape how we listen for and respond to the sound of his voice.
I love riding rollercoasters. But while recently visiting a local theme park, I noticed and was impressed by something about them I’d not really considered before. Even after a wild ride of ups and downs and twists and turns at speeds designed to make you feel like things are out of control, they never really are. You always end up exactly where the engineers designed the ride vehicle to stop. That endpoint never varies by even an inch. And as unrelated as it may seem, that’s what came to mind as I considered John 18:28-32.Following his betrayal, Jesus stood trial before the high priest and the other Jewish leaders who made up the religious tribunal known as the Sanhedrin. John doesn’t provide us with visibility into these proceedings, but the three earlier-written Gospels do (e.g. Matthew 26:57-68). And they record an inquisition that was ultimately fruitless in its attempt to establish guilt for any crime except an acknowledgment by the accused that he was the Christ, the Son of God.That statement was judged to be blasphemous. And according to Jewish law, the punishment for blasphemy was death by stoning. So, this gave Caiaphas the religious cover he was looking for to get rid of Jesus. But there was a problem. The Jewish leaders had authority to convict someone of a capital crime, but only the Romans could administer the death penalty. That’s why in the early hours of that infamous day, representatives of the Sanhedrin brought Jesus to the 𝘗𝘳𝘢𝘦𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘶𝘮, the Jerusalem headquarters of Roman authority. They wanted to persuade Pilate, the current governor, to have him killed.Then, in an amazing display of hypocrisy, having just conducted a sham trial where they purposefully violated many requirements of their religious code, they waited outside the governor’s residence insisting he come out to them so that they wouldn’t violate another part of that same code and become defiled during Passover for entering a gentile dwelling.When Pilate agreed to meet them on neutral ground, he pressed them to state the crime they were alleging and convince him it warranted his action. But their response was intentionally vague. They said he should just accept that they wouldn’t be bothering him if Jesus wasn’t a criminal. So, he pushed back and told them to deal with the issue themselves. That’s when they placed all their cards on the table and made it clear they weren’t leaving until they got what they wanted: the execution of Jesus of Nazareth.But the delicate dance between Pilate and the Jewish leaders recorded through the rest of this chapter and into the next reveals that the Jewish leaders also wanted the Nazarene’s blood to be on Rome’s hands so they wouldn’t be held responsible and ensure his death was a public spectacle displayed on a Roman cross as a warning to other would-be messiahs. And to accomplish that, they needed to make a credible case for Jesus’ proclamation of messiahship being a threat to Roman rule. That’s why the context implies that they accused him of claiming to be the king of the Jews.But in verse 32, John inserted some commentary that clarifies what was really going on. Beyond all the intrigue and interjurisdictional machinations, the redemptive strategies of the sovereign God were unfolding exactly according to plan. We’re reminded that all of this happened as Jesus had said it would, including that he would die on a cross (John 12:32-33). Not for one moment was his fate in the hands of those engaged in the religious, legal, and political tug-of-war taking place around him. Those ups and downs and twists and turns didn’t affect the divinely designed endpoint by even an inch.And the truth of our Lord’s absolute dominion over the events of that dark day should be deeply securing for our souls. When our lives feel out of control, we can trust in his power to ensure that nothing derails his good plans for us.
There are few things more attractive than a campfire on a chilly night. Its warmth is comforting, its flickering light is mesmerizing, and the company of those sharing it is reassuring. But something tragic happened around the one described in John 18.The narrative in the middle section of the chapter switches back and forth between two scenes, revealing their striking contrasts. Verses 12-14 and 19-27 follow Jesus from the arrest in Gethsemane through his initial hearing. Verses 15-18 and 25-27 focus on the drama of Peter’s denials.Jesus was led away in shackles to stand trial before the Jewish authorities. But first, he was subjected to pretrial questioning by Annas, the father-in-law of Caiaphas, the high priest. It’s unclear what the intended purpose was for this trial-before-the-trial, but what is clear is that tensions were already so sky high that nothing remotely resembling a fair hearing or lawful procedure could take place.John leaves it to the other Gospel writers to document the cruelties and injustices the Lord suffered during his official trial before Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin (e.g., Mark 14:55-65), but he reminds us that all of it took place within the context of Jesus having been prejudged. Without any due process, he’d already been sentenced to death by the high priest in an earlier private meeting of the religious leadership (John 11:47-53).Still, throughout the sham interrogations, Jesus never attempted to hide, spin, or obfuscate. He took responsibility for and stood behind everything he’d said and done, making clear he’d conducted his ministry in the open for all to see and hear.On the other hand, Peter did exactly the opposite. While Jesus was inside withstanding his interrogators by welcoming the light of scrutiny, out in the courtyard, Peter was avoiding his by choosing to hide in the darkness of denial.This is puzzling because the text doesn’t seem to indicate that there was a need for him to have feared being identified as one of Jesus’ followers. He’d been escorted through the gate and onto the grounds by another disciple who, though unnamed, was known to the high priest and appears to have possessed the authority to do it. On top of that, the bystanders who confronted Peter don’t seem to have held the kind of positions that would represent any real threat and were more than likely just curious.So, why was he insistent on denying his relationship with Jesus even after the Lord had warned him about it (John 13:38)? I don’t think we can know for sure, and even if we could, the answer would most certainly be multilayered. But it’s entirely possible that at least one of those layers had to do with the chill in the air and the allure of the campfire.Some of us have been there. We know what it’s like to try to fit in around the world’s fire circle hiding our identity as Jesus-followers to avoid feeling embarrassed about our faith. And even if it plays out more subtly than Peter’s direct disavowals, the effect is the same.But because we’ve been there, we can imagine a little of what Peter must have experienced as he warmed his hands and was suddenly aware that the rooster was crowing. The feelings of regret must have been overwhelming as he recalled the words of his Master’s prediction mingling with the sound of his denials on repeat in his mind. The juxtaposition of his failure unfolding on one end of that piece of real estate against what his Lord was enduring on the other must have been unbearable.And although this part of his story serves as a warning to resist the temptation of the campfire, Peter’s faith journey doesn’t end here. I’m grateful for the beautiful account of his repentance and restoration that unfolds in the chapters ahead. And that encourages us to know we can find recovery from our failures through Christ’s forgiveness too.
I’m not now nor have I ever been an athlete, but I powerwalk from my home to the beach and back daily for exercise. My route takes about an hour and includes climbing several large hills. And every day, the final ascent requires me to decide all over again to push through my fatigue and embrace the challenge for the health benefit that results.People are inclined to avoid discomfort by nature. Our bodies come equipped with an elaborate sensory response system designed to help us avoid or escape it. So, unless we’re forced to, yielding to an uncomfortable situation always requires a choice. And although I’m not in any way insinuating that a comparison can be made between the bit of resolve I exercise in overcoming reluctance to climb a hill during my workout and the Lord’s determination to climb Golgotha to face the sufferings of the cross, I believe John 18:10-11 provides us the opportunity to consider the pain he CHOSE to endure for our redemption.Attempting to provide Jesus a chance to escape arrest, Peter grabbed one of the two swords in the disciples’ possession (Luke 22:38) and attacked Malchus, the high priest’s servant, cutting off his right ear. But the Lord immediately stepped into the fray, healed the man’s wound (Luke 22:51), and commanded Peter to sheath his weapon.Then, he revealed in public the choice he’d made in private just moments before. Knowing full well what it would mean, he’d experienced intense agony as he wrestled with his Father regarding the 𝘤𝘶𝘱 that would be set before him. But in the end, his prayer was, “Not my will, but yours, be done” (Luke 22:42-44). So, he was saying more than words could ever capture when in response to Peter’s violent rescue efforts he asked the rhetorical question, “Shall I not drink the 𝘤𝘶𝘱 which my Father has given me?”And in that statement posing as a question, Jesus was teaching us one of the most valuable spiritual lessons of all. He was showing us by example the importance of not reacting to the difficult circumstances God allows – for purposes far greater than our limited perspective can comprehend in the moment – by grabbing the first sword we can find and trying to hack our way out.But that’s typically what we do isn’t it? My initial response to life’s difficulties is almost always to look for the nearest exit. But it turns out that those challenges are often the very things the Lord is using to escort me along the path to the fulfillment of my deepest desire, which is to know Christ and be conformed to his image. And more than that, they’re what enable me to reflect that image into this world with fewer smudges. That’s why James 1:2-4 tells us, “Count it all joy when you fall into various trials...that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.”Learning to resist the instinct to avoid pain at all costs and choosing instead to seek the guidance of the Spirit before reacting to it is a critical discipline of our faith. Developing the habit of first engaging in Gethsemane prayer before attempting to squirm out of tight spaces can help us better follow in our Savior’s footsteps. It’s why he said, “If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me” (Matthew 16:24).
Have you ever misplaced the TV remote because you laid it down somewhere without thinking, stored something away for safekeeping and later forgot where you put it, or inadvertently left your credit card at a restaurant? Sure, you have. We all know what it feels like to lose something. But there are some of us who also know the other side of that emotion. They know what it’s like to feel lost. And that’s what John 18:7-9 speaks to.The troops dispatched by the religious leaders to arrest Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane were picking themselves up off the ground. They’d stumbled backward in an involuntary response to the majesty on display in the Lord’s fearless acknowledgment that HE was the one they were looking for. And as they were getting back to their feet, verses 7-8 quote him giving them a second chance to identify the subject of their arrest warrant before once again confirming that HE was their target.After that, referring to his disciples, he said, “If you seek me, let these go their way.” That selfless sentence reveals the depth of his concern for his followers, but it also reveals something else. The Greek word translated as 𝘭𝘦𝘵 is a forceful verb and makes clear Jesus wasn’t PLEADING for their safety. He was DEMANDING it. And the power behind his directive was so great the soldiers complied even after Peter drew a sword and attacked a representative of the high priest. Then, verse 9 describes why Jesus was so emphatic with that mandate by reminding us of something he’d just prayed on the way to the Garden. He’d told his Father, “Of those whom you gave me I have lost none” (see John 17:12). That night in Gethsemane, the Lord wasn’t negotiating the terms of his surrender. He was keeping a promise.And although that promise directly applied to his first disciples, he’s also quoted in the prayer that contains it as saying, “I do not pray for these alone, but also for those who will believe in me through their word” (John 17:20). So, he clearly included all of us following in the footsteps of their faith under the canopy of its provisions.It’s also evident he meant it to encompass more than just physical safety. The word translated as 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 is a word expansive enough to accommodate every form of loss including emotional, relational, vocational, financial, and spiritual. Regardless of the conditions or circumstances that may cause any of us to feel otherwise, in Jesus, we are always found. He has promised to keep us in the firm but tender grip of his steadfast love.This passage reveals the intensity of our Lord’s commitment to keep those the Father has given him. And a reflection of that intensity is familiar to every parent who’s ever experienced losing their child in a crowd. It’s as though everything else in the universe fades to black, and there’s one – and only one – thing that remains: the desire to find your baby. And Christ’s parables of the 𝘓𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘱, the 𝘓𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘊𝘰𝘪𝘯, and the 𝘓𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘚𝘰𝘯 in Luke 15 make clear he pursues and preserves those he loves with the same type of consuming focus.So, if you’re feeling lost – misplaced, forgotten, left behind, adrift, or hidden – in any area of our life, Jesus had you mind when he spoke these words. Make the choice to reject the false narrative of your lostness and trust instead in the power of his promise.
My wife and I recently vacationed in Honolulu, Hawaii, and I went for a walk one morning along the Ala Wai Canal. As I strolled under the canopy of the trees that line the pathway, I suddenly came upon two men wielding swords – real, metal swords – the kind that belong in a movie not the hands of strangers just ahead of you on the footpath. And I instantly experienced a shot of adrenaline along with an urge to run away. Two-swords-to-none are not good odds.But after taking a second glance, I realized that these men weren’t a threat after all. They were just using that public space to practice a form of martial arts. So, I kept on walking, my heart rate began returning to normal, and I watched them with fascination. But my initial reaction to that surprise encounter got me thinking about the first six verses of John 18.After celebrating Passover together in an upper room in Jerusalem, Jesus and his disciples had been on the move heading toward the northeast corner of the city as he taught them and prayed to his Father. Once outside the city walls, he led them across the Kidron Valley and into a garden called Gethsemane. The text describes it as a place they’d visited often, one where Judas would have expected them to go.I'll get back to that in a minute. But before going any further, I need to note that at this point in the narrative of Christ’s passion, all three of the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) provide accounts of his raw and intense supplication to the Father. Often described as the 𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘯, this blood-sweating episode of intense prayer regarding the coming suffering of the cross concluded with an expression of his fresh and deep surrender as he cried out, “Not my will, but yours, be done.”The significance of that aspect of the story of our redemption can't be overstated. But for reasons that are guided by its unique, Spirit-purposed perspective on the life and ministry of Jesus, John’s Gospel doesn't record that part of what happened at Gethsemane. It focuses instead on the Lord’s arrest that took place there on the same night. And the account of that event is what came to mind when I encountered the swordsmen.Unlike the benign intensions of those two guys, the Roman troops, temple security forces, and Jewish leaders Judas led to the garden were armed with lethal weapons – which Matthew’s account describes as including swords – that were brandished in the harsh light of their lanterns and torches for the express purpose of intimidation. But even with full knowledge of where it would ultimately lead, Jesus didn’t attempt to avoid the confrontation. Instead, verse 4 tells us he, “went forward” to meet them head on. And when he boldly confirmed that he was the one they were seeking, they were the ones who verse 6 says, “drew back and fell to the ground.”This bold, confident, and forceful turning of the tables on his adversaries was, like everything else Jesus said and did, purposeful. It demonstrated at least two things crucial to our faith.First, Jesus was not a victim of the brutality he suffered. Out of love for us, he freely offered his life. It wasn’t taken from him. The events that led to and included the cross were never outside his control.Second, whenever it feels like the devil has arrived on the scene of our lives to intimidate us with “lanterns, torches, and weapons,” we needn’t fear. The Lord has gone before us to provide the courage to face any assault head on and see the tables turned through the power of his consummate victory. As Colossians 2:15 says, “Having disarmed principalities and powers, He made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them in it.”
Confession alert!
I’ve nursed a serious animosity toward the pastor of one of the mega-churches in the region where I live. He’s well-known and I’m obviously not, so we don’t run in the same circles. I only know him from news reports and his public statements. But I don’t like him. No, it’s more than that. I’m disgusted by him. And although I’m tempted to list all the reasons why, that would just be an attempt to justify the unjustifiable. My attitude has been sinful. Full stop.
Regardless of anything else he’s said or done, that man openly confesses Jesus as Savior. And that means we’re brothers in the faith and will spend eternity together in the presence of the Lord. How then can I possibly imagine it’s remotely acceptable to hold onto these feelings. I can’t. There will be no room for my judgmentalism when we stand side by side before and face to face with the one whose perfect love drove him to the cross for the sins of us both. I’ve been giving myself permission to hold one of the Lord’s precious ones in contempt, and I choose to repent.
My sin was laid bare as I prepared to write this commentary on the final section of Christ’s High Priestly Prayer recorded in John 17. After praying for himself and then for the disciples, verses 20-26 record the Lord’s final two requests, and they’re specifically for all future believers. That includes me. So, when he began by asking that his followers would exhibit a unity among themselves so striking it would serve as a testimony to his divinity, the ugliness of the disunity I was harboring in my heart was exposed.
This is not an excuse in any way, but I don’t think I’m the only guilty one here. As the log is being pulled from my own eye, I think I spot some splinters in others’. It’s evident that oneness is not the first word that comes to mind when describing the current state of the U.S. church. We more often seem to reflect the polarization, distrust, and animosity of the world around us than the harmony Jesus prayed for.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not advocating for an anything-goes, sloppy agapē. We exercise godly wisdom when we assess others’ behaviors with humility in light of Scripture to avoid sin ourselves and be useful to the Holy Spirit in helping redirect those who’ve drifted off course spiritually. But we cross a line we should never trespass when we set ourselves up as the holiness or theology police and pass judgment on other believers. That’s because it disallows the second thing Jesus prayed for us.
In addition to requesting that his followers be one, he asked the Father to make it possible for them to one day be with him in heaven and experience his unfiltered glory. And there’s no way for that to happen if we insist on dragging our unholy discord into that holy place. We need to deal with it on this side of heaven and as aggressively as possible.
No one individual’s repentance can clean up the church’s relational mess. But if all of us who’ve contributed to it deal with our own, the impact will be profound. It’ll align us with our Savior’s desires and enable us to better serve as his witnesses.
I’m determined to do my part. I’m dealing with the specific iniquity I’ve already confessed, but I’m also inviting the Holy Spirit’s conviction regarding any other wrong-heartedness I’ve allowed to take root in my soul toward fellow believers. I want to be among those who become the answer to Jesus’ prayer not the reason for it, and I bet you do too.
While establishing a new church in Silicon Valley years ago, the Lord provided me a job with what was then the highest-valued technology company in the world. But I was not a computer scientist, engineer, or coder. I barely knew how to send an email. I was in way over my head. And one day in a meeting, I came VERY close to exposing my ignorance and losing my job.
I was clueless about nearly all the terminology being thrown around in the discussion that day. So as usual, I just kept my head down and mouth shut. But then, someone used the acronym 𝘈𝘛𝘔. And suddenly, I imagined I might be able to contribute to the conversation. But thankfully, before I made the mistake of talking about the Automated Teller Machine at my bank, I quickly Googled ATM and discovered they were actually discussing something called Asynchronous Transfer Mode – whatever that means.
It's easy to get sidelined by unfamiliar terminology, and 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 can fall into that category. It’s one of those stained-glass words that tend to only be used and understood by theologians. And it can get even more opaque when preceded by the term 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 or 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦. But there are few things more important for every Jesus-follower to comprehend. In fact, it’s so essential to the Christian life that Jesus made it the climax of the second movement in his High Priestly Prayer.
Before expanding the scope of his intercession in John 17 to specifically include all those who would follow in their footsteps, Jesus concluded the section focused on his original disciples with one final request to the Father on their behalf in verses 17-19. He prayed, “Sanctify them.”
The Greek word translated as 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘺 means to render, declare, or set something apart as sacred. Jesus was asking that his followers be marked as standouts because of their holiness. It would be the basis of their testimony for him in this world. But that was an awfully big ask considering that these men were just as unholy as anyone else. They would need to undergo a transformation, and that transformation would be two-fold.
First, the Lord requested that this sanctification be accomplished by the impact of the Father’s truth on their lives in the form of his 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥, a term that means the entirety of the message. Jesus had spent the previous three years infusing the whole of the environment surrounding the disciples with the message of God. And it was THAT truth he was asking the Father to use in changing them as they embraced it daily, lived it out, and progressed toward holiness.
But a progressive sanctification is insufficient to produce the result Jesus prayed for. If you start with a sinner, the shaping influence of God’s word alone can’t produce a saint. That requires something else, a different starting point. The position from which the progression begins must be changed. And this positional sanctification can only be accomplished through the saving work the sinless Savior accomplished on the cross.
But when you start with a sinless Savior, sinners CAN become saints. And it’s why Jesus went on to say in verse 19, “I sanctify myself, that they also may be sanctified.” He set HIMSELF apart as a holy sacrifice to pay the penalty for sin, remove its stain from repentant sinners’ lives, and make it possible for them to be set apart unto holiness both positionally and progressively.
As believers, it’s our high privilege to be part of the answer to the Savior’s prayer for our sanctification. Let’s dedicate ourselves to steadily allowing God’s word to progressively shape us into the saints his sacrifice has already positionally made us to be.
Having already asked that they be preserved in their understanding of the fatherhood of God and that in their relationships with each other they would display the unity of his family, John 17:13-16 continues the record of the Lord’s petitions on behalf of his disciples.
He prayed, “I come to you…that they may have my joy fulfilled in themselves.” And with those beautiful words, he invited his Father to bless them with the gift of joy. But he wasn’t referring to the shallow and superficial variety the world offers. He specifically requested that they experience HIS joy, the kind that fulfills or satisfies completely, a joy so totally unaffected by and independent of circumstances he could continue his request with this startling statement: “I do NOT pray that you should take them out of the world.”
This is so profound and contrary to our lived experience it’s hard to describe in a way that conveys its weightiness and elicits anything approaching an appropriate response because he was describing a joy that can STAND up to whatever life SERVES up. In other words, living within its blessing doesn’t require exiting the world’s realities. They can be faced without flinching when secure in the joy described in 1 Peter 1:8 as, “inexpressible and full of glory.”
The disciples didn’t deserve such a gift, and we certainly don’t either. Yet, within hours of being nailed to a cross, Jesus amplified his loving grace by expressing this desire for us and asking his Father to fulfill it.
But hold on a minute. There’s even more here to fuel our gratitude. As if the requests he’d made up to this point weren’t already awe-producing, there was more to come, including this: Jesus prayed, “Keep them from the evil one.”
1 Peter 5:8 describes this evil one, the devil, “like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.” And anyone who chooses to become a follower of Christ will be pursued by an enemy probing for vulnerabilities and weaknesses in a relentless attempt to undermine God’s good plans for their life. But there’s no need to fear. Our redeemer has already covered us with his prayer that the Father would enable us to be undevourable.
And it’s his joy that makes that possible. The two requests from Jesus in this section of his prayer go hand in hand. It’s when our hearts are filled with joy that we have the power to withstand the devil’s attempts to devour. That’s why we’re told in Nehemiah 8:10 that, “The joy of the Lord is your strength.”
I’ve heard experts say that when communicators tell their audiences how to feel about what they’ve presented, they haven’t done their job very well. The response should be obvious. But just in case it’s not, this is me admitting my communication failure by saying I think the fact God the Son interceded before God the Father on our behalf that we might be joy-filled and undevourable should stir our hearts to sustained worship. It should evoke humble but unbridled praise filled with reverent amazement for the goodness of our Savior.
Sue and I have three kids who are now in their forties with families of their own. But when they were young and under our roof, our primary goal was to lovingly watch over, care for, train, and guide their lives in ways that would one day reproduce the values of our family in theirs, especially regarding our faith. We prayed that it would become a family trait. And it’s a delight beyond expression to now witness our seven grandkids growing in their own relationships with Jesus as a result.
John 17:11-12 marks the point in his High Priestly Prayer when Jesus began to make several specific appeals for his disciples, and these verses contain the first two. After clarifying that the reason for his supplication was that he would no longer be physically present with his disciples in the world, he highlighted the significance of the requests he was about to make by using an expression found nowhere else in Scripture. He prayed, “Holy Father,” and proceeded to ask that the disciples be kept or preserved in that name, and that they would experience the kind of unity among themselves that would echo the oneness of the Godhead.
The Bible employs several names for God but none more frequently than 𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. And John’s Gospel quotes Jesus using that term more than a hundred times to refer to the one who’d sent him. So, even though no single word in any language can begin to adequately communicate the magnificence of who he is, it’s clear he at least wants us to understand him in the light of what THAT word conveys and the kind of relationship it’s meant to describe. Our God is a father.
So, when Jesus asked that his followers be kept in that name, he was requesting that they be held close, protected, and nurtured within that aspect of who God is. He’d carefully introduced them to the fatherhood of God and said that except for the 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, Judas, he’d preserved all of them within the embrace of its truth. Now, as he was preparing to return to the Father, he was leaving that task to him.
In addition, he prayed that this relationship and understanding would produce among the disciples the kind of unity that characterizes God’s family, especially the oneness within the Trinity.
I think you’d agree that unity is not a characteristic of the human family in its sin-scarred state, but it certainly is of God’s. He models it himself and enables his kids to do the same in the power of his Spirit. It’s a family trait.
Ephesians 4:1-3 encourages us, “Walk worthy of the calling with which you were called...endeavoring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”
This is one of the things that set believers apart from the world and identify us as God’s children. In fact, one of the key descriptors of the early church in the book of Acts is a word that is translated into English as 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥 or 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.
But the togetherness experienced among those first believers couldn’t always be characterized as unanimity. Instead, they lived out a diversity that was harmonious. In music, harmony is achieved not by playing the same notes but different ones that together create a unique sound much richer than its components. And that’s what the family of God should sound like. Sadly, we don’t always, but that’s why Jesus prayed.
So, as we live out our faith in this world together as his kids, let’s daily shed the selfishness, insecurity, and spiritual immaturity that produces discord, and instead, yield to our Father as he harmonizes us by his Spirit into the accord that demonstrates what our Savior prayed for.
Jesus entered the climax of his earthly ministry through the portal of prayer. Between the Upper Room and Gethsemane on the way from the Last Supper to the Betrayal, he paused to intercede for himself, his disciples, and all future believers. The account of this exquisite supplication of Son to Father fills the whole of John chapter 17. And in the middle section focused on the first followers, after assessing the state of their spiritual development and just before making his requests on their behalf, he addressed a crucial distinction that would be at the heart of the rest of his prayer. He said, “I pray for THEM. I do NOT pray for the world.”
This wasn’t a statement of indifference toward those who weren’t numbered among the disciples or of preference for those who were, and he certainly wasn’t expressing a lack of compassion. In his response to the questioning of Nicodemus at the beginning of his ministry (John 3:16), he said he’d been sent by the Father precisely because, “God so loved the world.”
So, what did he mean?
The answer to that question requires a closer look at the Greek word 𝘬𝘰𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘴 translated here as 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. Its meaning is primarily focused on the kind of order, design, and arrangement we see in nature. So, it can also be translated as 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩 or even as 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦. John uses it a lot in his writings, including seventeen times in his account of this prayer alone. But his usage expands on the basic definition. This is evidenced in 1 John 5:19 where he said, “The whole 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 lies under the sway of the wicked one.” For John, 𝘬𝘰𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘴 clearly includes an understanding that it’s the realm currently, though temporarily, under the influence of the devil.
I won’t take the time now to develop the theology behind that viewpoint, but Jesus is quoted three times in John’s Gospel referring to Satan as the ruler of this world (John 12:31; 14:30; 16:11), and this certainly informs John’s use of the word 𝘬𝘰𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘴 to capture the Lord’s meaning in chapter 17 verse 9. This passage clarifies who Jesus was praying for. He was about to make requests to the Father on behalf of those who by their faith in him would no longer be identified as being under that satanic system. And in verse 10, he described them as those the Father had given him and in whom he was glorified. Although they would remain physically within the world, he was saying they would no longer be of it.
𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 is a successful line of Christian merchandise. And although Christian and merchandise are two words that probably never belong in the same sentence, this brand of clothing and accessories anchors its mission to this section of the Lord’s High Priestly Prayer. The point of their products is to underscore the message of Jesus in this passage, and the reason there’s a market for what they sell is that the power of this truth can’t be overstated.
As believers in Jesus, we are NOT OF THIS WORLD. So, it would have been radically inappropriate for Jesus to pray for the system supporting and facilitating the evil around us. That’s why he emphatically declared that the focus of his intercession was, as it continues to be, those his sacrifice liberates from its grasp.
And it’s vital we remember this because our adversary is intent on causing us to forget. He knows that when we do, we can become vulnerable again to “the sway of the wicked one.” But we don’t need to go online and buy a t-shirt to steady ourselves in this truth. We have these powerful words from our Savior’s prayer to return to anytime we need them.
Sue and I will celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary this year, and I can hardly believe I just said that. It seems like only yesterday that we walked the aisle, stood before God with our friends and family as witnesses, and pledged our love to each other. But the reality is a lot of living has passed since that day. We’ve experienced all the highs and lows and twists and turns that a half-century can serve up, and by God’s grace, we are more in love now than ever.I knew Sue was the one for me after our very first date. But it would be two years before I proposed and a year after that before we were married. Why? Because every relationship of significance, depth, and meaning must be built on two things that require time to develop: knowledge and belief. We first needed to invest in the process of getting to know each other beyond our surface-level acquaintance. Then, we needed to allow that knowing to develop into the believing that would enable us to place the full weight of our trust on each other.And although this is an imperfect picture, I think it does illustrate something Jesus described about the disciples just before interceding for them in his High Priestly Prayer.John 17:6-10 quotes him affirming that he’d revealed the Father to his disciples, that he considered each of them a divine gift, and that they were developing a holistic grip on God’s word that was enabling them to become responsive to his specific instructions. But he also assessed the nature of their relationship with himself when he described what they’d come to KNOW and what they’d come to BELIEVE.In verse 7, he said they knew something about him now they hadn’t known before. They were beginning to comprehend the nature of his divinity. That’s why in verse 8, he could say they’d come to understand that he’d been sent from or, more literally, out of the Father.But as important as it was for them to KNOW this about him, it’s clear the Lord’s primary desire was that this knowing would lead to believing. So, when verse 8 concludes with the affirmation that his disciples had crossed the threshold into faith, I can almost hear the pleasure in his voice when he announced to his Father, “They have BELIEVED that you sent me.”The word translated as 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘥 here points to more than mere credence. It’s not the word that would be used for simply agreeing that something is true. This word implies the believer has come to trust and rely on the truth believed. It describes a step beyond acknowledgment into dependence. It’s one thing to arrive at the place where you KNOW that Jesus is the son of God. It’s another to begin exercising BELIEF by choosing to build your life on the platform of that knowledge.Knowledge that doesn’t grow into belief is just a theory, and belief that isn’t grounded in knowledge is just an emotion. And since Jesus assessed the quality of the relationship his first followers had with him based on these two things, I think it would be wise for all of us who claim faith in him to do the same. Let’s honestly consider whether we’re spending the kind of time with Jesus that insures we keep growing in our knowledge of who he is and informs a belief that results in the placement of the full weight of our trust on him.
One of the most intimidating things in the world as far as I’m concerned is a blank greeting card, especially if it’s for my wife on our anniversary. It dares me to scour the English language in search of the relative handful of words that will adequately express my feelings. And sometimes I just freeze like a deer in the headlights. But when I accept the challenge, put pen to paper, and get them right, those few words unleash a force that deeply enriches our marriage.A carefully chosen and articulated phrase can be very powerful. But conveying the right words in the moment requires the existence of the whole dictionary. Like a well-stocked stationary store with enough greeting cards to choose from that you can find the one that’s just right for the occasion, it’s the richness of a full vocabulary that empowers any individual message.The relationship between those two things – the vocabulary and the message – is described by Jesus in his prayer recorded in John 17. As part of his assessment of the disciples’ readiness for the challenges ahead, he reported on how they had responded to what he described to his Father in verse 6 as “your word”, and in verse 8 as “the words.” But the distinction he was making was not just singular versus plural. His strategic meaning was captured using two different Greek words: logos and rhema.Logos is defined as speech that embodies a concept or idea. And the New Testament often uses it when referring to Scripture as the definitive, written expression of God’s voice. But John made clear that he intended to expand its use when he employed it three times in the opening sentence of his gospel to identify Jesus as the word who was in the beginning, was with God, and was God. These are not references to what Jesus said. They describe who he is.Rhema is a Greek synonym of logos, but the New Testament often distinguishes them in this way. Where logos refers to the full vocabulary of God, rhema describes specific messages composed from that vocabulary. For instance, logos could be used to identify the Bible as a whole, and rhema as an individual passage highlighted by the Spirit as he speaks through it to a specific person and applies it to their unique circumstances.Jesus was affirming two separate aspects of the disciples’ spiritual development that should be true of ours as well when he said they had “kept” the logos and “received” the rhema. To keep means to hold on to something, and to receive means to welcome something being offered. It's only when we’re holding on to the logos of God that we can receive his rhema. Becoming sensitized to his timely messages that address our specific needs requires that we first have a firm grasp on the vocabulary he uses to deliver them.We need both, but rhema is dependent on logos. So, let’s determine to develop a holy habit of regularly mining the depths of Scripture, God’s written word. And by doing so, we can’t help but enrich our relationship with Jesus, the personification of that word. He’s the embodiment of everything God is communicating. He’s the complete lexicon. He IS the logos.
A week ago, after playing my acoustic guitar to help lead worship at church, a man approached me to comment on the beautiful sound of my instrument. I don’t know what he thought of my playing. He didn’t say. But he was right about my guitar. It sounds great. It’s a blond, jumbo Guild I’ve had for fifty years. And like all well-made wooden instruments, it’s grown old very gracefully. As the wood has aged, it’s developed a wonderfully rich tone that I absolutely love.But I value that guitar for another and more important reason. I didn’t buy it. It was a gift.As a young man, I toured and recorded with one of the early Jesus Music bands. In those days, Christian music was not an industry like it is now, and artists barely survived financially. So, although my guitar desperately needed an upgrade, I just couldn’t afford it.But then one day, someone I’d never met who’d been blessed by our music and believed in our ministry walked up and handed me a case containing that beautiful Guild. It had belonged to him, but he said he believed the Lord wanted me to have it. And as I stood there trying to find the right words to express my gratitude, I was also overwhelmed by the realization that I held in my hands a divine gift.Before Jesus prayed FOR his disciples, he prayed ABOUT them. In John 17:6-10, he summarized the state of their spiritual preparedness while highlighting key elements of his disciple-making strategy. He began by praying, “I have manifested your name,” which referred to the ways he’d introduced the disciples to God as Father. And embracing the father-heart of God is foundational to a life of faith in part because understanding who he is makes it possible for us to comprehend who we are. I believe that’s why the Lord completed that sentence with a description of his disciples as, “the men you have GIVEN me.”They weren’t just a random assortment of misfits he got stuck with. He viewed each of them as a gift from his Father. And this recognition of their value was profound in its implications. It provided them with the basis for a whole new identity. But if they were anything like the rest of us, it would have been a steep challenge for them to believe that it was true. I’m sure they were as deeply aware of their flawed histories, shortcomings, and sinfulness as we are and just as prone to self-doubt.It’s my guess that it was exactly for that reason that Jesus went on to acknowledge several more times in his prayer that he considered THEM to have been divine GIFTS. The text makes clear that they could hear what he was saying. And although his words were addressed to the Father, it’s obvious that they were the intended audience as with each repetition of this stunning truth he pushed back against the lies of the Accuser and affirmed their worth.But this High Priestly Prayer is not recorded in John’s gospel for the sake of the disciples. They were on-scene and heard it live. It’s in the Bible so we can be changed by the impact of these powerful words from the mouth of Jesus describing how he sees US. So, let’s reject shame and humbly choose to live within the new identity this astounding truth makes possible: He considers each of us a divine gift.
There’s a new coffee shop in my neighborhood, and I stop there most mornings to grab a cup on my way to spend a few minutes watching the surfers down at the pier. When it first opened, I would save time by ordering ahead using an app, step inside just long enough to pick up my drink, and then be on my way without having to interact with anyone. But a couple of months ago, during my morning prayer time, I sensed the Lord prompting me to change my routine and spend the extra time it would take to place my order in-store at the counter.I’m an introvert and a bit of an efficiency freak. So, I dislike engaging in small talk with salespeople, and I hate taking longer to accomplish something than necessary. But as I yielded to the Spirit’s nudge, my attention was drawn to the name badge on the apron of the young man who took my order. And after leaving with my coffee, I caught myself reflexively curious about and praying for him randomly throughout the day. Once I knew his name, I couldn’t just dismiss him as the bearded barista wearing the newsboy hat.That’s when I realized this was why God redirected my pattern that morning, and it’s why I’ve continued the practice ever since. As I’ve taken the time to learn the names of the partners at that store, I’ve become invested in their lives in a deeper way and can pray for them with true empathy. Names have a unique power to connect us with others. A person’s name is an invitation to a revelation of who they are.And that illustrates something from John 17 where the longest of the Lord’s documented prayers is found. It’s known as the High Priestly Prayer and takes up the whole chapter. The first five verses allow us to listen in on Jesus praying for himself. Then in the next fourteen, the focus shifts to the disciples as he intercedes for them. But before making any requests on their behalf, verses 6-10 quote him reporting to his Father on their spiritual development. And since God is omniscient without needing to be informed about anything, this was clearly done for our sakes. Jesus was using this update to provide future believers who would read these words with a glimpse into his discipleship strategy for all of us.According to this passage, his plan involves several specific goals with the first being identified when he prayed, “I have manifested your name.” This phrase describes what leads to the essential first step in every Jesus-follower’s journey. It’s what makes a life of faith possible. The Greek word rendered as 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 means revealed. And the word translated as 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 not only refers to what a person is called but to who that person is.Get this. John’s gospel records one hundred and thirteen times when Jesus used the term 𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 to name the one who’d sent him. And every single time he did, he was purposefully revealing an important aspect of the nature of God and how he wants us to relate to him. That’s because until someone comprehends his father-heart, it’s impossible to place the full weight of their trust in him.And maybe that’s what’s been holding you back. Perhaps your pursuit of God feels shallower than you’d like, more religious than relational. If so, Jesus made it clear – one hundred and thirteen times to be exact – he wants to introduce you to the one you can find complete rest in and know as, Father.
John chapter 17 provides the opportunity for us to eavesdrop on Jesus praying to the Heavenly Father. His betrayal and arrest in Gethsemane were imminent; he’d completed his ministry among the people of Galilee, Samaria, and Judea; and he’d just concluded the final preparation of his disciples for the disorienting events that would surround his crucifixion. But before stepping into the final phase of his mission and fixing his gaze on Calvary, John described him lifting his eyes toward heaven.The transcript of what flowed from his heart in that pivotal moment ripples out in concentric circles. He prayed for himself (verses 1-5), his original disciples (verses 6-19), and then for all those who would come to faith through their testimony (verses 20-26). As we consider his prayer, it calls for deep humility and a reverence for the undeserved privilege it invites us into. This is God, the Son, speaking to God, the Father!The first section of the prayer begins with Jesus giving voice to what both Father and Son already knew. The hour had come. They’d arrived at the fulcrum of redemptive history. The plan for saving our lost race had reached its climax. But his next words were stunningly unexpected. He understood – more than any of us have the capacity to grasp – what was about to be required of him. And yet, there’s no complaint or expression of dread. Instead, he welcomed the coming suffering as that which would both glorify him and enable him to reflect glory back to the Father. Glory is the divine word for beauty. And he said this reflected glory would result from the exercise of his authority to provide eternal life to all those the Father would give him.But then, he offered a surprising definition of eternal life. Instead of describing it in terms of duration – life without end – he described it in terms of relationship. He wasn’t denying that it continues forever as the word eternal implies, but he was saying it’s far more than that. The word translated here as 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 is not the one for biological or psychological life. It’s the one the New Testament uses to identify the life of the spirit, and Jesus said it would be characterized by a knowledge of God. The word translated as 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 carries the idea of a growing and experiential knowledge of what is known. In other words, he was talking about a knowing that is ongoing and developing – relational. His coming sacrifice would result in the availability of a never-ending and ever-expanding relationship with God for anyone who would receive it by placing their trust in his authority to offer it.As he concluded this personal section of the prayer, Jesus circled back to the theme of glory. He said the accomplishment of his redemptive assignment would result in the Father being glorified on earth. But then, Jesus expressed his yearning to once again share in the glory that had always been his as the second person of the Trinity.And that reveals another layer of the price Jesus paid so that we could have the eternal life he’d just defined. He willingly endured the abandonment of his disciples, suffered the horrific physical pain of his torture, and experienced the forsaking of the Father as he became sin for us on the cross. But he did all that while clothed with the indignities and limitations of human flesh. Although he remained fully divine, he chose to set aside his divine prerogatives to secure our salvation.And that one-sentence disclosure of our Savior’s longing for a return to glory contained in verse 5 moves me to deeper worship as I consider afresh what he sacrificed. And my heart compels me to say, “I love you, Jesus.”
My wife and I raised three kids of our own, have seven grandchildren, and during our four decades of pastoral ministry, cared for many families with little ones. So, we’ve engaged in our share of baby talk. That’s when an adult attempts to communicate with a youngster by simplifying what they want to say and the vocabulary they use so they can better match the child’s maturity level. It can also involve bending down to make eye contact and sometimes even changing their tone of voice to sound more childlike. And something like that is what I see in John 16:28 where Jesus offered the disciples a simplified version of something he’d previously told them more than once but seemed hard for them to understand.The disciples make an easy target, but I don’t mean to seem condescending. Those poor guys were being invited to comprehend and experience things WAY beyond their frame of reference. Jesus was preparing them to navigate the pivotal moment in human history when the Maker of the Universe clothed in human flesh would sacrifice himself to rescue a fallen race. I mean, come on. I’m prepared to cut them some slack.But as the Lord wound down his pre-crucifixion instructions, it was essential that they at least grasped the main point. So, with careful and simple language he told them, “I came forth from the Father and have come into the world. Again, I leave the world and go to the Father.” And that seems to have done the trick. I’m paraphrasing now, but in verses 29 and 30, they responded by basically saying, “Thank you. We finally get it, and our faith in who you are is now secure.”But Jesus knew it wasn’t that simple, and in verses 31 and 32, beginning with a searing rhetorical question – “Do you now believe?” – he prophesied that they would all soon abandon him. And as harsh as that may seem, he didn’t leave them hanging there twisting in the wind. With what I can only imagine as the kind of loving words and warm tones someone would use to reassure a confused child, he went on to comfort them by saying he wouldn’t really be left alone. The Father would be with him.Then, verse 33 records the Lord’s final two sentences before John’s narrative begins to steamroll toward the cross. They’re filled with rich compassion. He told his disciples that all the things he’d taught them were specifically designed to give them peace through the coming storm. He didn’t sugarcoat the impact of what they were about to experience. He said that in the world, they WOULD have 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 which can also be translated as 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 or 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘩. “But,” he said, “be of good cheer. I have overcome the world.”What soul-securing words those were for them and are for us!Have you ever found yourself out of your depth trying to process the minefield of this world’s tribulations and longing for a steadying hand to take hold of yours while calming your anxious heart with confident words of encouragement? These are those words and his is the hand that reaches toward you now as the Lord takes a knee, looks you in the eye, and speaks them with loving, uncluttered simplicity over you as his precious child.
One of my lifelong mentors is a widely known and well-regarded Christian leader. During a conversation I had with him several months ago, he urged me to introduce myself to one of the teaching pastors on staff at a large church near my home. He’d met the young man, was impressed by his sincere devotion to Jesus, and thought it would be good for me to become acquainted with him too. So, I messaged that pastor to see if we could arrange to get together for lunch sometime.But I knew cold-calling that busy leader with no idea who I was would probably not result in a response, at least not a timely one. So, I name-dropped. Name-dropping is when you allude to a famous or respected person you know for the purpose of impressing others or gaining their attention. In the email I sent requesting the meeting, I mentioned my mentor’s name and said I was reaching out at his suggestion. And that did the trick. Although we’ve since developed a friendship that stands on its own, our initial lunch appointment was made based on our mutual respect for my mentor. So, in a way, you could say our relationship was formed in his name.In a similar way, John 16:23-27 quotes our Savior declaring that his name would become the foundation for his followers having a direct relationship with God, the Father. Using the phrase, "In that day," to describe the fast-approaching time when the barrier of sin would be removed through his cross and resurrection coupled with their love for and faith in him, Jesus said his figurative language would give way to plain speaking, they would no longer bring their requests TO him but THROUGH him to the Father, and they would experience the joy of answered prayer.But he wasn’t saying this would be the result of simply annunciating the collection of vowels and consonants that make up the word spelled J-E-S-U-S as though it possesses some kind of power in itself that impresses Father God, invokes his loving response, and unlocks his blessing. Even in the story I told a moment ago, it wasn’t my mentor’s moniker that gave me entrée with the young pastor. It was the shared honor we have for the kind of man he is, what he stands for, and what he’s accomplished. When Jesus told his disciples, “Whatever you ask the Father in my name he will give you,” he wasn’t describing some kind of spiritual incantation. He wasn’t saying that when they closed their prayers with the phrase, “In Jesus’ name,” it would guarantee a positive divine response. He wasn’t talking about the PHRASEOLOGY or how their requests were worded. He was talking about the PERONALITY or whose life was at the heart of their requests.But this is not just about how we pray. It’s about all the ways we live as Jesus-followers. Scripture tells us we’re baptized in his name, receive the Holy Spirit who is sent in his name, gather together in his name, engage in acts of kindness in his name, minister to children in his name, speak and teach in his name, and cast out demons and work miracles in his name.Doing so means positioning ourselves within the authority and standing made available to us by who Jesus IS and choosing to align ourselves with his will, not our own. It's only then that the potent promises revealed in this passage are realized.So, my prayer for you today is that your life will be filled with the indescribable experience of direct access to Father God and the joys of answered prayer…in Jesus’ name.
Last Christmas, instead of typical gifts, my wife and I gave our children and their families experiences we could enjoy with them. For instance, one of the families received a two-night stay at an indoor, waterpark resort near their home in the state of Oregon. But the trip wouldn’t take place for another six weeks. So, although our young grandkids were excited about the prospect of going there with us, helping them comprehend the time between the announcement of the gift as we gathered around the Christmas tree and its fulfillment a month and a half later proved a bit of a challenge.When you’re as old as me, six weeks seems like no time at all. But for little ones, it can feel like forever. We often try to help them relate to the passage of time by describing it in terms of how many sleeps until a thing takes place. But if it’s any more than about three, their eyes usually glaze over, and they lose the thread. In this case, it would be forty-two sleeps, an unwieldy number for them to work out in their young minds.So, along with their parents, we tried to find a way to explain it that would allow them to delight in a joyful anticipation while awaiting the arrival of the adventure, but they were just too young to see it in those terms. We had to satisfy ourselves with the knowledge that the eventual pleasure they would have when the day finally came would erase the disappointment of delay.I don’t mean this to sound condescending, but John 16:16-22 describes an exchange between the disciples and Jesus that sounds similar. It was regarding an expression he used to help them measure the time between the announcement and fulfillment of two predictions he made. He told them a time was coming when he would depart from them and a time when they would see him again. He used the phrase, “a little while,” to describe how soon these events would take place, and the disciples wanted him to clarify how long that would be. But it was just not possible for them grasp it.At first glance, it may seem he was being purposefully vague, but the Lord was being as precise as possible given the limitations of their understanding. He was speaking prophetically about two different departures (his death on the cross and his ascension) as well as two separate arrivals (his resurrection and his second coming) that would all be linked together in ways incomprehensible to them at the time. And to do so required using terminology from his timeless realm of eternity that went over their heads.There was just no way to satisfy them. So instead, he turned their attention to the overwhelming joy they would ultimately experience when these things were fulfilled even if there was some short-term sorrow resulting from their lack of understanding. To do this, he used the illustration of a mother whose labor pains are completely erased when she gets to hold her baby. It’s as though she’s been emotionally transported directly from the promise of her pregnancy to its fulfillment, and in the happiness of that moment, every discomfort is forgotten.We always think we can comprehend God’s timing. But the truth is his eternal perspective is more in every way than any of us can grasp. So, we often find ourselves insisting God provide us with greater clarity than we can actually handle. Instead, let’s be people who rest in the assurance of his faithfulness, refuse to be overtaken by the disappointment of delay, and live in the delight of the joyful anticipation that all God has promised us will come to pass right on time.
Having told the disciples his return to the Father would facilitate sending them the Holy Spirit, Jesus began to describe two aspects of the Spirit’s mission: convincing and communicating. John 16:8-11 contains the Lord’s description of the first of these.Most English New Testament versions translate the Greek verb used to quote his description of this world-facing part of the Spirit’s work by using the word 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘵. But it can also be translated as 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦, and I think that helps clarify its use in this context. The Lord said the Holy Spirit convinces the world of three things: sin, righteousness, and judgment.He said the Spirit would convince the world of sin because of their unbelief. Saving faith must first be preceded by the moment when a person acknowledges their iniquity. And as someone who has benefited from this part of the Spirit’s mission, I’m extremely grateful for it but also thankful that the job of convincing others of their sinfulness is not up to me. It’s clear that as believers we have a role to play in the process, but it’s deeply comforting to be able to trust that work to him. He’s the only one who can expose the depth of someone’s spiritual depravity without condemnation and escort them over the threshold of faith through confession and repentance into the waiting arms of Christ’s redemption.Next, the Lord taught the disciples that the Holy Spirit is the one who convinces the world of righteousness. That word means the character or quality of being right or just. He told them this part of the Spirit’s mission would be necessary because he was returning to the Father. And that meant he would no longer be visibly present to demonstrate by his holy life what righteousness looks like. The world is so severely corrupted by sin, all the cultural signposts pointing toward the path of right living have been torn down. It’s an unholy mess that can only be navigated by means of the convincing work of the Spirit. But he’s so good at it! He’s exceedingly able not only to illuminate the way of righteousness but to enable us to walk it with an increasingly confident stride.And finally, Jesus said the Holy Spirit would convince the world of judgment. He told his followers this was needed because Satan, described as the ruler of this world, is judged. That means the case against him is closed, a verdict has been rendered, and a sentence has been handed down. As much as he may try to pretend otherwise, the devil has been utterly defeated.It’s part of the Spirit’s mission to convince the world of the thoroughness of that judgment to dissuade those tempted to live in disobedience to God, but also to redirect every attempt of the adversary to cause believers to live under the weight of their own guilt. Those who willingly follow in Satan’s footsteps will come under the same judgement he has. But those who have repented of sin and placed their trust in the forgiveness of Jesus have been set free from judgment. Revelation 12:10 refers to the devil as 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘯, and I think a lot of us know what it’s like to find ourselves sidelined in our faith because of the weight of shame resulting from his accusations. But it’s in those times, the voice of the Holy Spirit pierces that darkness to convince us of the liberty purchased for us in our Savior’s victory over Satan.Hear him speaking to you today from Colossians 2:15-16. “Having disarmed principalities and powers, He -- Jesus -- made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them in it. So let no one judge you...”
Jesus had told his disciples he’d soon be leaving them and that his departure would expose them to persecution. These two things – anticipation of the loss of his physical presence along with the prospect of their personal suffering – had caused them to experience sorrow of heart according to Jesus in John 16:6.But the previous verse quotes him scolding them for not asking where he was going. That was because answering that question, if sincerely asked, would have given him the opportunity to answer the more important question of why he was going there, and that would have allowed him to directly address the roots of their sadness.It’s certain he remembered that both Peter and Thomas had previously asked the “where” question. But those queries were all about determining how they could go with him. None of them had bothered to ask the “why” question. They were so consumed with concern for how his departure would negatively impact their lives they hadn’t even considered there might be another side to the coin.That’s why in verse 7, he told them that even though they weren’t asking, he wanted them to know the reason he would be departing. He said it was so he could send the Holy Spirit to them. His leaving would facilitate the Spirit’s coming, and he told them that was to their advantage.But their context for relating to God had been completely centered in the living, breathing, touchable, fully human person of Jesus. So, the concept of an invisible Spirit being even a suitable substitute for their Master’s presence, let alone a far more valuable one, would have been hard for them to understand. Of course, that would dramatically change once they experienced the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on the Day of Pentecost. But until then, all of this remained a mystery they didn’t appear to be too anxious to pursue.And sadly, that describes some Christ-followers today. They’ve placed their faith in Jesus as savior, experienced his forgiveness, become students of his word, and sincerely offered him their worship. But they hesitate in their pursuit of the power of his Spirit. And whether that’s due to a lack of exposure to what the Bible teaches about him, a negative reaction to how some people have misrepresented him, or an uncertainty regarding how to engage him, to the extent it’s true, they simply can’t experience all God intends for them. It’s the presence, power, and guidance of the Holy Spirit that animates our faith and makes it pulsate with the life of Jesus. Without that, all we’re left with is a dry theology, a moral philosophy, and religious practices.I want more than that, and I’m sure you do too. But more importantly, that’s what the Lord wants for us. In fact, Ephesians 5:18 commands us to “Be filled with the Spirit.” It’s not a suggestion. And the original word translated there as filled literally means to be as full as possible.It’s our Lord’s intention that we experience an on-going fullness of the Holy Spirit, and he made clear how we can. Luke 11:13 says, “If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him!”So, let’s ask.
It’s hard to stumble over something you can see. It’s the unknown, unexpected, hidden, and unobserved things that trip us up. When I was a kid at summer camp, our cabin leaders used to take us on flashlight hikes at night. And I learned that even in the dark on an unfamiliar trail with uneven terrain and many obstacles, I could maintain my footing if I just kept my light pointed straight ahead and my stride within its beam.That’s the imagery that comes to mind when I consider the quote contained in verse 1 of John 16. Jesus had just been preparing his disciples for the inevitability of the persecution they would face. And that preparation included a reminder that they would not face it alone. The Holy Spirit would be with them. But then, before elaborating more fully on the power and scope of the Spirit’s ministry, he paused to give them another powerful promise. He said the things he’d spoken to them would keep them from stumbling.He was assuring them that no matter how dark the circumstances, how treacherous the conditions, or how cleaver the strategies arranged against them, his words would be sufficient to enable them to keep their feet. The things he’d taught them over their three years together were not just a random assortment of nouns and verbs. Each syllable was strategically arranged to provide the bright light that would secure their steps over the path ahead.In the next 2 verses, he reiterated the certainty and severity of the opposition they would face as well as why. But then in verse 4, he encouraged them once again that they had been fully prepared to face it by all he’d taught them.And this is true for all believers. The words of Jesus combined with the full array of divine commands, guidance, and wisdom contained in Holy Scripture – what the Apostle Paul described in Acts 20:27 as “the whole counsel of God” – provide all the light we need to illuminate and secure our way over, around, and through any demonic scheme to topple us.The Bible is not just a collection of unrelated stories, sayings, and requirements. It’s a highly focused compilation of words (plural) that become an incredibly powerful word (singular) irradiating the darkness around us. Psalm 119:105 says “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” And as we carefully keep that light pointed straight ahead and our stride within its beam, the Lord’s promise to his disciples at the start of John 16 becomes ours too.That’s why it’s critically important for Jesus-people to develop an ever-growing hunger for and knowledge of the Bible – the word of God. Our spiritual lives literally depend on it. So, please let this be a reminder not to allow another day to get away from you without spending some time in the book. Implementing a defined reading plan is a great way to approach it. But don’t allow your lack of one to intimidate you. Just open to any page, start absorbing what the Lord’s embedded there for you to discover, and ask him to reveal more of himself to you through it. He will!Let me close by declaring over you Jude 24 to 25: “Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you faultless before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy, to God our Savior, who alone is wise, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and forever. Amen.”
In my opinion, the word hate is the strongest in the English language for expressing negative emotion. There are others such as detest, abhor, and loathe, but these and similar terms are usually reserved to communicate an intensity a step or two below full-blown hatred. Once it reaches that level, the emotion dial has no more stops. And it can often erupt in extreme action. That’s what makes this word dangerous. So, when John quotes Jesus using its Greek equivalent seven times in the final ten verses of chapter 15, it grabs our attention.
Jesus NEVER exaggerated. He wasn’t being hyperbolic when he told his disciples in verse 19, “The world HATES you.” But he didn’t mean that every person on Earth would be their enemy. The word translated as world in this passage refers to the way it’s arranged or the system behind it like the way a reporter might use the word Washington to describe the U.S. government not all citizens of the District of Columbia. He wanted to make sure his followers weren’t surprised when the satanic system operating in the shadows of this sin-scarred world would burst out from behind the scenes and manifest itself in open hostility toward them as his representatives.
He explained that they would be targeted specifically because his words and works had exposed the sin at the heart of this system. And that’s what he was referring to in verse 21 when he said, “They do not KNOW him who sent me.” But the word translated as know is not the one that would be used for the beginning of a pursuit of knowledge. He wasn’t describing someone who hadn’t yet had a chance to get to know him. John captured his meaning by using a word that describes a fullness of knowledge that has already been gained. In other words, Jesus was making clear that at the core of the world’s hatred of him was a REJECTION of the knowledge of his Father. Romans 1:20-21 puts it this way: “They are without excuse, because, although they knew God, they did not glorify Him as God.”
So, Jesus was warning the disciples to EXPECT fierce opposition. And I think it’s clear he was speaking beyond them to all of us who follow in their footsteps. Like that first group of Jesus-people, we’ve been called out of the world to reflect God’s glory back into it. And as we do, we WILL attract the hateful response of a system arrayed in purposeful opposition to HIM. And that response can manifest in many unpleasant ways. When life feels like you’re under attack, you probably are.
But it’s important for us to remain clear about where that opposition comes from. It’s the satanic structure behind the scenes of this world not its people. Our God is deeply in love with its people. They’re not our enemy. They’re our mission. Ephesians 6:12 says, “We do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against...spiritual hosts of wickedness.” If we get confused about who we’re wrestling with, we can find ourselves at odds with our calling and attempting to confront a spiritual enemy using political, rhetorical, or material weaponry that targets the very people Jesus is seeking to save.
We need to confront our spiritual adversary with spiritual weaponry. 2 Corinthians 10:4-5 says, "The weapons of our warfare are not carnal but mighty in God for...casting down...every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God." That’s why when Jesus brought this passage to a climax, he reiterated his promise to send us the Helper – the Holy Spirit – who would lead the way in testifying of him in the face of the world’s hostility. And in the light of that glorious promise, he was able to make one more. And although addressed to his disciples, it’s one we can confidently claim as well. In the power of the Spirit, we will be enabled to withstand the world’s hate and become his witness-bearers.
Let’s trust him to fulfill that promise in and through our lives today.
Have you ever been part of a schoolyard pick? That’s the process where a group of people are divided into teams by those who’ve been designated as leaders. It can be either a traumatic experience or an exhilarating one depending on how early you’re chosen. Turns are taken and selections made based on assessments of potential value to the teams until one person is left to be assigned by default. And that person is keenly aware of not really being chosen at all.
On the other hand, if you’re the first selected, it’s a huge esteem-boost to know you were wanted, REALLY wanted.
I know there can’t be a true comparison but imagine the thunderous impact of the Lord’s words to his disciples recorded in John 15:16 when they heard their master say, “I chose you.” Add to that their awareness that unlike what happens in a schoolyard, this choice was made with full knowledge of their inadequacy. It wasn’t based on an evaluation of what they could offer. That would have meant it carried an unbearable weight of expectation none of them could possibly fulfill. It even preceded their choosing him. Their state of chosenness rested solely on the Savior’s unconditional and unchanging love.
Their hearts must have been ready to burst!
If this wasn’t already more than their souls could take in, Jesus went on to say that beyond anything they could aspire to, they had been 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥. And this is a translation of a Greek word about placement. The Lord used it to make clear he had positioned them to experience sustained and lasting spiritual fruitfulness alongside an aligning of their desires with the will of the Father that would result in consistently answered prayers.
Now, there are those who would argue that the Lord’s statements here were directed to the eleven remaining disciples and were exclusively describing their call to represent him as apostles. But I disagree for many reasons not least of which is that this verse is a continuation of a passage that includes many things Jesus clearly meant to apply universally to all Jesus-followers. I don’t think you can disconnect verse 16 from that context which also includes verse 17 where Jesus wrapped up this section of his instructions saying, “These things I command you, that you love one another.” It’s inconceivable to imagine that command not pertaining to all believers.
I’m convinced Jesus meant that all who cross the threshold from doubt into faith should then encounter the stunning reality that before we chose him, he chose us. And although I know this butts right up against hundreds of years of theological controversy, I’m totally comfortable leaving others more knowledgeable than me to debate predestination, foreknowledge, and free will while I simply enjoy the indescribable peace, security, and fulfillment found within the mysteries of chosenness and appointment.
I invite you to join me there. If you’ve felt as though Jesus just ended up with you by default, think again. You are wanted, REALLY wanted. Hear him speaking life into your soul with those three beautiful and life-changing words, “I chose you.”
At one point years ago, I needed to support my family while planting a new church, and I got a job as an accountant for a large tech company. It was during one of the information economy’s boom cycles, and the pace was crazy. There was so much work to do it became difficult to keep track of it all including remembering to pick up documents I’d send to the printer down the hall. As soon as I’d hit the print button on my computer, something else would need my attention and I’d forget to retrieve the copy. So, I came up with the idea of sticking a post-it note to my shirt before getting interrupted. That way, even if I got distracted and forgot about the print job, eventually someone would see the note on my chest and ask what it was for. And that would remind me to go to the printer.
Since then, I’ve become grateful for reminders. And we encounter an important one in the four-verse section that begins with John 15:12. Jesus revisited what he’d previously described in chapter 13 as a NEW commandment. But this time he emphasized its importance by saying it was HIS. It belonged to and flowed from his OWN sacrificial love and would be the new standard for how his followers would bear his image in this world. And he chose to remind them of this amid his invitation to abide in him as branches rooted in a vine because their ability to fulfill it would be completely dependent on having a deep connectedness to HIM.
He told them there’s no greater way of expressing this kind of love than to lay down one’s life. And although he was certainly prefiguring what he was about to do on the cross, I don’t think he meant them to understand dying in someone’s place as the only way to demonstrate it. The Greek word used to describe this laying-down is not specifically about dying. At its core, it describes something’s placement or how it’s positioned. I believe Jesus was saying that those who follow him will express his love by how they posture their lives in relation to others. Instead of pursuing a position above them, they will devote themselves, as he did, to coming under them.
Along with this, he clarified to whom they were to offer this love. He did this by his use of the word translated into English as 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴. It can be used as a noun to identify a group of people who one is close to, but it’s primarily an adjective that describes the way someone is valued and treated. Jesus was calling his followers to see everyone as someone to be loved like a friend.
Then, the Lord used this word in a way that seems contrary to that. It sounds as though the only people he considers friends are those who do what he commands. But the conditional particle in this sentence rendered with the English word 𝘪𝘧 can also mean 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯. And considering Jesus was specifically referring to his new commandment, the verse could easily be paraphrased as, “You demonstrate OUR friendship WHEN you love others this way.” And he immediately confirmed this by saying, “I HAVE called you friends,” not “I WILL call you friends IF you keep my commands.”
Jesus also drew a stark contrast between servants and friends. He was emphatic that he did NOT think of his disciples as servants. And this was essential to their ability to live out his commandment. They would never be able to invite others into friendship with the Savior if they hadn’t first experienced him in that way.
That’s not possible for us either. If we’re going to be the kind of Jesus-people who live out HIS commandment, we also need to embrace the full impact of the unimaginable grace that has been extended to us within which he calls us friends.
My wife and I live near the Disneyland Resort in Southern California and have annual passes to its theme parks. We usually spend one full day a month there. And that might reasonably make you wonder why a retired couple would want to spend so much time at a place designed for families with young kids? Well, we genuinely enjoy going on the rides and love the scenery, the food, and being surrounded by the sounds of families having fun together. So, the answer to the question is…it makes us happy.
The desire for happiness is a very human thing. In fact, I live in a country that described the pursuit of happiness in its Declaration of Independence as an unalienable right. But as wonderful as happiness can be, it can’t compare to joy. And it’s joy that Jesus calls us to in John 15:11.
The chapter opens with Jesus’ words, “I am the true vine.” And then it records him teaching his disciples that abiding or remaining tightly and vitally connected to him in a relationship of welcome to his life-giving words and submission to his loving commands is the key to a blessed and fruitful life. That’s a lot to chew on, and he could have easily ended this part of their training right there. But he went a step further and revealed the ultimate purpose behind his invitation to abide. He told them it was all about his desire that they experience joy.
He described it as HIS joy. Distinct from any other source, this joy is a gift that flows from himself. He said his joy remains. It’s not the temporary or transient kind that comes and goes. And he also said it fills us up. The original Greek here expresses the concept of a container as full as it can possibly be, unable to contain even a single drop more. And if Jesus wants us to have joy like that, how can we possibly go on settling for mere happiness instead.
Don’t get me wrong. Happiness is great! I love being happy. But joy and happiness are two very different things. Although they can produce similar feelings, they come from completely different places and play entirely different roles in our lives.
Happiness is a reaction to something outside us. Its source is external. We experience it as delight when we’re in the presence of someone we love, engaged in a pleasurable activity, recalling a cherished memory, or having a delicious meal. It serves to provide a temporary lift to our outlook.
Joy is a state of wellbeing within us. Its source is internal. We experience it as a steadying peace when we’re facing heartbreak, confronted by challenges, approaching an uncertain future, or dealing with disappointment. It serves to provide a different and better outlook altogether.
Happiness flavors life, but joy sustains it. That’s why Jesus invites us to draw near and remain close to him. Beyond the shallow and narrow scope of happiness, he wants us to know the overflowing fullness of his sustaining joy from a well that’s deep and wide.
What an awesome invitation! Let’s respond by choosing with fresh passion to pursue and press into him with everything we’ve got, so that as he said, our "joy may be full."
Lately, I’ve found myself less than enthused about seeing my doctor. Why? Because in this stage of my life, those visits almost always conclude with him telling me how much more I should exercise and how much less I should eat. And I tend to walk out of those appointments feeling like I’ve disappointed him. But the after-visit plan he prints out and hands to me when I leave his office is not designed to increase the quality of my relationship with him, it’s purpose is to help me live longer and better. And that thought helps me comprehend the treasure contained in John 15:9-10.
In the previous passage, Jesus invited his disciples to abide in him. He warned them of the hazards encountered by those who don’t and described some of the rich benefits enjoyed by those who do. Then, he amplified this appeal by inviting them to abide in his LOVE. And he defined that love as the same kind the Father has for him.
Let’s just pause and stand in awe of that jaw-dropping truth for a moment.
When the hiking trail bursts out of the woods into a glorious meadow with a view of a majestic peak, you just have to stop and take in the beauty of the scene. And the Savior’s words here present us with such a stunning and humbling revelation we simply can’t go any further without reflecting on its magnitude.
You and I are loved by the Son of God with the same purity, intensity, and consistency that he is loved by the Father. The weight and impact of that realization is literally staggering. It’s so profound it should never cease to cause our knees to buckle with reverence.
So, how is it even possible that the Lord would need to follow that statement with an appeal to remain in his love? It’s heartbreaking to think we’re so fickle and full of ourselves we’d have to be reminded not to lose interest in the love of Jesus. But that’s the sad reality. And when we do, although his love for us remains steadfast, we cease to enjoy all that it offers. That’s why Jesus went on to say there’s a way to insure it doesn’t happen. He said if we keep his commandments, we’ll abide in his love.
It’s not that his affection is adjusted based on our levels of obedience. He doesn’t love us more when we follow his commands and less when we don’t. He loves us the same no matter what. Jeremiah 31:3 says, “I have loved you with an everlasting love.” And Romans 5:8 tells us, “God demonstrates His…love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
But being the object of Christ’s unchanging love is not the same as benefitting from it.
Obeying the Lord’s commands is not about proving our devotion to him by how consistently we adhere to a checklist of approved behaviors. It’s about entering the environment where we can flourish within his love. It’s only when we follow our Maker’s instructions for how life should be lived that everything actually works as he intends and results in our experiencing peace that passes understanding (Philippians 4:7), joy that’s inexpressible (1 Peter 1:8), and life more abundant (John 10:10).
And that’s what we all want, isn’t it? So, let’s think of these two precious verses as a kind of after-visit plan designed by the one who loves us more than we can ever know to help us fully benefit from that love.
Burnout. Jesus tried to warn me.
One morning, nine years into my first pastorate, I woke with a strong sense from the Lord that something in my life needed urgent attention. And that alert was accompanied with the impression that he would restrain its consequences for one year to give me time to cooperate with him in addressing it. I’d already suffered a case of shingles and seen my doctor about a chronic eye twitch, both of which can be brought on by stress. So, assuming the problem was related to overwork in my noble attempt to be a productive, modern pastor, I set about to make what I thought were appropriate adjustments.
But without first humbly seeking God regarding what was really wrong, I wasted precious time and energy addressing the wrong things. I concluded that what was required was changing the way our church was staffed, adjusting my work-life balance, and developing a hobby. But focusing on these kinds of things was like treating the symptoms while ignoring the disease. And eventually, the noisy racket from my self-help activity drowned out the Spirit’s cautioning voice.
Then, almost exactly one year later, I was taking a seminary course that required all the students to complete a personal spiritual assessment. The professor selected a few of them to review with the class, and mine happened to be the first chosen. He called my name and asked me to stand while he commented on my results. Thinking I was about to get some public affirmation, I confidently got to my feet and was completely unprepared for what happened next. He pointed his finger at me and said emphatically, “Unless you radically change how you’re living, you WILL lose your marriage, family, ministry, and health.”
That withering moment proved to be what author, Sheldon Vanauken, described as a “severe mercy,” and it changed the spiritual trajectory of my whole life. In an instant, all my efforts to fix myself were exposed as folly, and I immediately took a leave of absence from the church to desperately press into Jesus for his help.
This already-long story would become much longer if I described the details of the healing journey that resulted. But I’ll say this: I learned the importance and blessings of abiding. And that’s what John 15:4-8 records Jesus teaching his disciples.
The word translated as abide in this passage can also be rendered as stay or continue, and it points to the essential truth that the fruitful life we were created to enjoy will never be the result of our labors, however well-motivated. It can only be experienced by remaining deeply connected to Jesus. He told his followers that when a branch ceases to abide in the vine, it withers. And he said it’s the withered branches that get burned up.
That wasn’t a threat of punishment. It was a statement of fact that’s as true for people as it is for plants in a vineyard. Burnout, which can be defined as fatigue, frustration, stress, depression, and apathy wrapped in a profound sense of futility, is the inevitable result of failing to abide. Life cannot flow FROM us unless it’s first flowing INTO us. Fruitfulness begins with the vine not the branch and is the natural, effortless result of abiding. Stress is a check engine light on the dashboard of our souls sounding the alarm when vital connection to Jesus has been compromised.
But as much as these verses provide a strong word of caution, they also, contain an astounding set of promises. Jesus pledged to abide in US as we abide in HIM and to unleash the fruitfulness he intends. He defined abiding as allowing his words to flow into us like life-giving nourishment from a vine, and that when we do, our desires will get reshaped and result in the kind of praying that gets answered. He also said the Father receives glory through our abiding and that it will identify us as his disciples.
I think you get the point. Staying plugged into Jesus matters. A lot. So, my prayer is that you won’t need to face your own moment of “severe mercy” before addressing the issue of abiding. Do it now.
My wife bought a pair of pruning shears the other day, and that act marked a significant turning point in her life. I’m not joking. It may not seem like a big deal to you, but anyone acquainted with the tenderness of that woman’s deeply sensitive heart would immediately recognize that the idea of cutting away part of a living thing, even to promote its greater fruitfulness, goes against her nature. So, for her to purchase and own something designed for that purpose is quite remarkable. But she was ultimately compelled to do it for love’s sake.
I don’t use that word lightly. She LOVES this world God created and everything that reflects his life within it including the plants in her flower and vegetable garden. And although that love struggles a bit with the concept of pruning, it’s also what ultimately caused her to order the shears. One of the tests of true love is its willingness to express itself in actions that are costly to the lover but benefit the loved.
And that’s what we encounter in the first three verses of John 15 as Jesus opens his parable of the vine and branches and introduces his disciples to a form of divine tough love. After identifying the story’s cast of characters – himself as the vine, the Father as the vinedresser, and his followers as the branches – the Lord described two truths about spiritual pruning.
First, he said there’s a big difference between pruning and removing. He told his disciples that unfruitful branches are simply removed while the vinedresser’s careful work of pruning is reserved only for those branches that are already fruitful so they can be more so.
He was preparing them for those times when they would encounter the tender blade of the Father’s loving confrontation. Jesus wanted them to understand that there would be times when they would feel the pinch of God addressing attitudes, habits, and behaviors that need to be trimmed away because they constrict the flow of his life in them and hinder their fruitfulness. But he was assuring them that the short-term pain experienced in those times would be worth surrendering to.
Consider the Bible’s list of the fruit the vinedresser seeks to promote in the branches. Galatians 5:22-23 says, “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.” And I ask you, who wouldn’t want to have more of those qualities flowing from their life?
God’s tender heart is certainly not insensitive to the trauma caused by the cutting away of those spiritually unproductive things we’ve allowed to take root in our lives. But his love compels him to employ his shears from time to time, and we should welcome him to do so.
The second truth about spiritual pruning revealed in this passage is that it’s the natural and unavoidable result of exposure to his words. He told his followers that without even knowing what was happening, the things he’d taught them had already produced in them a measure of cleansing. And in this context, that word is synonymous with pruning.
In other words, he was saying that the word of God, the Bible, among other things, is the vinedresser’s knife. It carefully reveals and deals with anything inhibiting our fruit-bearing. So, developing a regular habit of exposing ourselves to it causes the pruning we all want and need to become less often a painful confrontation and more of an expected and welcomed occurrence.
If you want to see more of the fruit of the Spirit produced in your life, do yourself a favor. Create a well-worn pathway to the Scriptures, submit to their pruning work, and rejoice in what begins to grow as a result.
I simply can’t consider John 14:30-31 without becoming emotional. The profound courage and determined sacrifice embedded in my Savior’s words recorded there always elicit a reaction from deep within my soul.
First, he told his disciples that the time for talk was nearing an end and the time for action was at hand. He said his consummate confrontation with the devil was on final approach. And he referred to him as the “ruler of this world” – a title that results from the forfeiture by our sin of the dominion God originally gave humanity. And by identifying him that way, he was signaling what was at stake: sacrificially satisfying the consequences of mankind’s rebellion and restoring God’s intensions for his creation.
Next, Jesus declared, “He has nothing in me,” which meant that because of his sinless life Satan had no claim on him. The coming showdown would not be about securing anything for himself. He said it would be a demonstration of his loving obedience to the will of the Father.
Then, he followed this with a statement many commentators have taken to be Jesus simply concluding the Passover meal and inviting the disciples to join him on his journey to Gethsemane. And this interpretation assumes that the content of the next three chapters unfolded along the way. But since those chapters end with John’s record of a lengthy prayer he plainly states Jesus finished before he and his disciples left for the garden, I think the phrase that closes chapter 14 and is rendered by the New King James Version as, “Arise, let us go from here,” was something far more significant.
The original Greek could properly be translated as, “Let’s do this!” And I think that colloquialism better captures the heart of Jesus in that moment. With full awareness of what was coming, why, how soon, and what it would cost him, instead of shrinking back or attempting to postpone it, he leaned in and gave voice to his determination to see it through to completion and the victory over sin it would accomplish for us all.
And although it’s a deeply flawed comparison, what I feel when I read these words is somewhat like the sense of grateful pride many of my countrymen experience when they recall the day in June of 1944 that our troops joined with those from Britain and Canada to storm the beaches of France’s Normandy coast and confront Hitler’s plan for world domination. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t our fight. It wasn’t our nation that was under threat from Nazi invasion. Still, our brave soldiers answered the call to advance into that arena of terrible suffering for the sake of others. And I can almost hear them cry out from their landing craft as they came ashore, “Let’s do this!”
Some friends of mine are currently traveling in Europe. And a much-anticipated part of their itinerary is a visit to the D-Day invasion sites. They’re going to what is often referred to as sacred ground to pause in silent reflection and honor the sacrifice of those who gave their lives there in defense of liberty.
How much more should we regularly visit the holy terrain at foot of the cross in worship and there glorify the one who boldly determined out of his love for the Father to face head on, with immeasurable sacrifice, the suffering that purchased our spiritual freedom and gained for us his presence as our destiny. Eternally offering our praise from sincerely grateful hearts is the only appropriate response for so great a salvation. Let’s do this!
I’ve reached the stage of life where my hearing is not as sharp as it was in my youth. More frequently than I’d like, I find I’m asking people to repeat themselves, and I sometimes have to turn up the volume on my TV to not miss passages of dialog. So, audiology is on my mind.
God designed us with two ears strategically located on opposite sides of our heads. This array provides our brains with a staggering amount of auditory information. It places us in a 360° sound stage within which our sense of hearing facilitates our interaction with the world around us. It also allows us to pinpoint the physical origin of noises in our environment through what’s known as sound localization and makes it possible for us to determine if an object is moving away from or coming toward us and how quickly. But if illness, injury, or aging causes a person to suffer single-sided deafness where hearing is lost in one ear, their brain can't receive the full spectrum of data required to assemble this complete picture.
There’s also something called selective hearing that can create a similar problem. This is when a person consciously or unconsciously chooses to only listen to what they think is relevant to them and ignore what isn’t. We’ve all experienced times when we’ve chosen to process only a select part of what we’ve heard. But when we do, we can miss important details and end up with an incomplete understanding.
We see this play out in John 14:28-29. While continuing the pre-crucifixion preparation of his disciples, Jesus reminded them of two things they’d previously heard him say. He’d told them he would be both departing from and returning to them. But it’s clear they chose to listen with only one ear, so to speak. They fixated on the part about him leaving, and their concerns about that deafened them to the hope-filled news that he’d be coming back.
As a result, they didn’t experience the benefit of these twin promises that were intended to provide them with both the emotional security they would need for their own souls and to make it possible for them to appreciate the joy a return to the Father meant for Jesus. Instead, all he could do was confront their lack of empathy and assure them that eventually their faith would benefit from what was about to happen.
But sadly, practicing selective hearing when it comes to the Word of God can not only cause us to miss out on intended benefits, it’s spiritually dangerous. In his farewell address to the Ephesian elders recorded in Acts 20, the Apostle Paul pointed to his practice of declaring “the whole counsel of God” as an example they should follow in caring for the church. That’s because when we pick and choose from God’s declared principles and precepts as though they were merely an assortment to select from, we can end up assembling an image of the will and ways of God that’s not only warped but contains nooks and crannies of error from which the devil can ensnare us.
As an example, the passage before us contains a controversial quote from Jesus. In verse 28, While attempting to describe the indescribable – the anticipated joy of the Son’s return to the Father – he made the comment, “My Father is greater than I.”
There are those who insist, based on this, that Jesus meant for us to understand he was either not divine at all or lower down a hierarchy within the Trinity. And these false interpretations have formed the foundations for cults that have led many away from a saving relationship with Christ. But these positions can only be supported if you hear his statement with one ear and discount everything Jesus had previously said about his being equal with the Father.
So, let’s determine to always listen with both ears when it comes to what God has said. Let’s contend for an approach to the Scriptures that places a high value on embracing input from its entire sound stage.
Years ago, I was in the process of preparing a Christmas message series, and I posed a question to my wife while we were out for a walk one evening. I asked her to consider all the people in her life – our family, our neighbors, her friends at work, the people in our congregation – and describe her sense of their deepest desire for that holiday season. Without the slightest hesitation, she answered, “peace.” She said, “They long for peace in their lives.”
I’ll bet you can relate to that longing. And although I’m tempted to think it must be more true for those of us dealing with the multiplying fears, stresses, uncertainties, and complexities of our time, I’d be wrong. The yearning for peace – personal, relational, political, and global – has defined humanity throughout history. And its pursuit has been the driving force behind most of the choices and actions – good and bad – of all people everywhere for all time.
And it was true for the disciples of Jesus as they wrestled with the unsettling news that he would be leaving them soon. That’s why John 14:27 contains the words of his very precious promise to leave them with the gift of peace. He carefully described it as, “my peace,” and lovingly assured them it wouldn’t be the shallow, transitory type the world offers.
His peace is not a mood, state of mind, feeling, or the result of a trouble-free life. It’s not contingent on internal or external conditions. It doesn’t come and go or ebb and flow. It’s a changeless extension of who Jesus is. In fact, the prophetic messianic birth announcement recorded in Isaiah 6:9 declared that the Promised One would be named, Prince of Peace.
So, when Jesus went on to tell the disciples not to allow their hearts to be troubled or become fearful, he wasn’t expecting them to create their own state of peacefulness. He wasn’t suggesting that they could experience it by any act of self-centering or adjustment of their circumstances. He was saying that the gift of his on-going presence in the person of the Holy Spirit would make it possible for them to live within the embrace of his peace as a choice.
And this was not a promise that applied only to those first disciples. Philippians 4:6-7 makes it clear that all Christ-followers can choose to live without anxiety by stepping under the canopy of his presence through prayer and enjoying the “peace of God” that defies explanation.
It can properly be said that peace is a person. The settled rest of mind and heart we all crave can be found only in a relationship with God through faith in Christ. If peace is not anchored to the unshakable security of the one who is unchangeable and immovable, any attempt to attain it will ultimately collapse in the shifting sands of circumstance.
So, if my wife was speaking for you while walking with me under stars that winter night when she said, “They long for peace,” it’s time to abandon everything that falsely promises to satisfy that longing. Instead, make the choice to trust the care of your troubled heart to the one who is peace personified. Hear him speaking to you from Matthew 11:28, “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
Since 2004, I’ve had the privilege of teaching Bible students from around the world who travel to the nation of Taiwan for a five-month Discipleship Training School held there twice a year. I get to be with them for one week of their enrollment and conduct a three-hour, daily lecture.
Every day, before introducing new material, I review the previous day’s curriculum and try to address any questions that developed overnight as these students processed the instruction they’d received. They’re exposed to a lot of content during class, so I always look forward to this opportunity to repeat and revisit things I’ve taught that they didn’t fully grasp. But even then, I know there’s only so much they’ll be able to absorb.
That’s partly due to the limits of my communication skills, but also, because the deepest form of learning happens as information gets applied, and there’s really no shortcut to that process. It takes time. And when I conclude my week of teaching, I always find myself wishing there was a way I could stay with my students through their journey of application that only daily living can make possible.
So, I love what Jesus told the Twelve about the process of their spiritual development in John 14:25-26. Having just emphasized the importance of not only hearing his words but living them, he reminded his disciples they would not be abandoned to go it alone. He reiterated his promise from verses 15-18 that the Father would send the Holy Spirit to remain with them, reinforce his instructions, and enable them to recall what they’d been taught as their lives provided the opportunity to apply his teaching.
I believe you’re reading this because you want to be a faithful, diligent, and engaged student of the red ink – the color that many versions of the New Testament use to display the words of Jesus. But as you’ve probably already discovered, there’s a lot of it. And I know it may seem a bit overwhelming. You may even be tempted to feel shame or embarrassment about what you perceive to be your slowness to absorb and grasp the Lord’s instructions.
But don’t surrender to that. The Holy Spirit is a wise and patient teacher working within our uniqueness, enabling us to learn and live in the life-altering words of the Savior. As believers, each of us has access to a divine tutor guiding us in understanding and assimilating the truths Jesus taught. And he’s not limited to a week of lectures. The Holy Spirit is with us 24/7/365 to ensure we’re growing in the knowledge we need and can apply it in every circumstance we encounter.
And that’s not even close to the full measure of the Spirit’s mission in our lives. As we explore the next chapter of this Gospel, we’ll discover a much more expansive description of his role. But for now, let’s choose to soak in, with gratitude, the light of this one aspect of his ministry to us. With grateful and responsive hearts, let’s commit to being good students.
My prayer life includes me asking a lot of questions. Many arise out of my Bible reading, and others just erupt from my daily experiences. But I’ve learned the importance of finding a quiet place and bringing them to the Lord in prayer even though I know some of them won’t be answered or at least not yet. In those cases, I know it’s not that the answers don’t exist or that God is deliberately withholding them from me. It’s usually because I don’t have the frame of reference required to comprehend the answers, like when a four-year-old asks where babies come from. Other times, it’s because I don’t even know how to ask the right questions. Still, even when I don’t get an answer to the question I've asked, the act of asking it helps deepen my relationship with Jesus and my understanding of his ways because it provides an opportunity for me to interact with him.
His goal is always deeper communion with us. And that’s why one of the things we learn about Jesus in the accounts of his life and ministry is that he welcomes queries and at times even intentionally raises them. So, not surprisingly, this is the approach Jesus used as he prepared the Twelve for his crucifixion. And after having fielded comments and questions from Peter, John, Thomas, and Philip earlier in the chapter, John 14:21-24 contains his response to a question from another of the disciples.
After saying that those who really love him naturally engage in keeping his commands as an expression of that love, he went on to promise that he would manifest himself to those who do as an expression of the love he and the Father have for them.
This prompted the question from Judas – not Judas Iscariot who would betray Jesus but the other disciple with the same name who was also known as Thaddaeus. He asked, “Lord, how is it that you will manifest yourself to us, and not to the world?”
The text then says, “Jesus answered…” But the Greek word translated as answered here can also refer simply to a reply that follows a question, not necessarily the answer to it. Now, it’s unclear whether Judas was asking about the mechanics of how the Lord would be able to reveal himself to his followers without being seen by others or about the reason why he would do that. Either way, the Lord didn’t provide him an answer.
Instead, before clarifying the obvious – that those who don’t love him demonstrate that by choosing not to keep his commands – he reiterated what he’d just said about the importance of showing love for him by obeying his words. But this time around, rather than simply repeating his promise to manifest himself to those who do, he amplified it by saying he and the Father will make their home among them. This was a different facet of the same promise, but the Lord’s language here and its implications are even more profound.
So, even if Jesus was unable to answer Judas’ specific question, the interaction that ensued because he asked it resulted in him being offered a gift of understanding he wouldn’t even have known to ask for. And that’s been my experience too. A sincerely posed question to Jesus will always lead to rich engagement with him if we’re willing not to insist he answer the one we’re asking. And it can often escort us into unexpected revelation as well.
Please don’t deprive yourself of these blessings. Do you have questions for Jesus? Go ahead, find a quiet place, and ask away.
With his arrest in Gethsemane now just hours away, John 14:19-20 records Jesus telling his disciples they would soon experience three things. They would see what others don’t, come alive in a new way, and understand a mysterious reality.
First, he said people would be divided into two groups: those who see him and those who don’t. He said they would, and the world won’t, clarifying that belief would be the determining factor. But the word translated as 𝘴𝘦𝘦 in this text is not the one for the physical experience of sight as when you just happen to see something. He used the word for the second glance you take to examine more fully something you’ve previously only casually observed. It involves intentionality and investigation. He clearly meant that even after he was no longer physically with them, there would still be much about him to be 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 by those ready to explore with eyes of faith. Like a work of art that continues to reveal more of its beauty, meaning, and impact the longer you carefully consider it, their perspective on his stunning glory would keep expanding the more they gave themselves to pursuing the depth of his majesty.
Second, he said that because he lives (present tense) – not had lived (past tense) or would live (future tense) – they could experience life in a way they hadn’t yet. He wanted them to understand that although his imminent crucifixion would result in the death of his body, he would not cease to be. He would continue living the spiritual life that has belonged to him eternally. And once he’d paid the death penalty owed for human sin, in his resurrection, he’d be able to impart that life to them, a life of another kind, his kind.
Third, he said that once this happened, they would be able to grasp a truth he’d witnessed them struggle with. He told them, “You will know that I am in my Father.” And the word translated as 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 here is about the kind of understanding that results from relationship rather than instruction. So, what follows is significant because it describes the environment of relationship that would provide the understanding they needed. He said they would finally comprehend the mystery of his unity with the Father because they would be experiencing a similar oneness with himself. They would be in him, and he would be in them. Their lives would be entwined with his in a way similar to his with the Father’s.
So, what does all this have to do with us? Well, nothing if these words are just part of the historical record of some of the Lord’s final instructions to his original disciples. But if you believe, as I do, that Jesus was speaking beyond his inner circle gathered there that day to an audience that includes every Jesus-follower, then the impact for you and me is staggering.
Please, don’t miss this! He has invited us into a relationship with him that results in our eyes being opened to the deeper dimensions of who he is; in his eternal life transforming our mere material existence; and in an experiential knowledge of what it means to be in him as he is in the Father. And the magnitude of just these three aspects of the grace lavished upon us in Christ so overwhelms my ability to comprehend, I’m…I’m struggling to know how to finish this sentence. So, pardon me while I pause here, slip to my knees before him, and attempt to find some way to give voice to my gratitude.
As they processed what he was teaching them in preparation for his cross, resurrection, and ascension, Jesus understood the fear of abandonment the disciples were confronting. So, in John 14:16-18, he lovingly assured them they would not be orphaned. And he began preparing them to embrace the presence of the one he said the Father would provide to remain with them when he was gone.
This initial introduction to the person and work of the Holy Spirit set the stage for the remainder of Christ’s final instructions to the Twelve. But since the indwelling and overflowing of the Holy Spirit are essential experiences in the life of every believer, all of us need to pay close attention to what Jesus meant when he used two richly significant phrases to describe him.
The first of these is found in verse 16 where Jesus called him 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘦𝘳. And each of the Greek words behind this English phrase is important to consider. The word translated as 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 refers not only to a second person, but to a second person of the same sort as the first. The Lord was anticipating the hesitance his disciples might have for welcoming the Holy Spirit if they thought he would behave unpredictably. And that can be true for some of us today who are comfortable with Jesus but a little uncertain about the Spirit. So, this simple word that could be easily overlooked was intended to help all of us securely rest in the knowledge that everything we know about Jesus is also true of the Holy Spirit.
Then, with the word translated as 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘦𝘳, Jesus introduced the unique ministry of the Holy Spirit. The original word means 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱. It’s used to describe someone who draws close to offer aid, provide comfort, or serve as an advocate. And that definition is packed with meaning for all Jesus-followers because the Holy Spirit is all of that to us. He’s the one who is always near, standing with us in every situation; the one who is our limitless resource, supplying whatever the need requires; the one who is our emotional shelter, assuaging our heartaches, bearing our burdens, and relieving our fears; and the one who is our defender, confronting and defeating every assault leveled against us.
The second of the phrases Jesus used to describe the Holy Spirit is found in verse 17 where he referred to him as the 𝘚𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩. The literal meaning of the word translated as 𝘚𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵 is 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩. And the word for truth is less about a fact and more about the realty supporting that fact. So, a translation of the language behind this phrase could easily be 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺. And it reveals the Holy Spirit as not limited by the constraints of a physical body as Jesus’ messianic mission required. So, he can be fully present with each of us in every place all at the same time. But his invisible presence is anchored to a reality that can be experienced. Although unseen with human eyes, he's more substantial than anything we can observe.
If this happens to be one of those days when circumstances are tempting you to feel abandoned, I pray your heart will be encouraged with the truth that you have not been orphaned. And I pray you’ll sense the powerful presence of the one who comes alongside to help.
During a speech she gave at an event I attended five months ago, a friend made a request as a passing remark in an illustration she was using. But earlier this week, I had the opportunity to fulfill that offhand request, and I did it while quoting what she’d said on that occasion word for word. When I did, she responded incredulously saying, “You were listening,” and I answered, “Of course, I was.”
I did what I did and said what I said because one of the primary ways we honor others is by listening to them, and not just to hear their words, but to understand what they meant and, more importantly, how to be responsive to them. For instance, although it took me longer than it should have, over the years of our marriage, I discovered the importance of expressing my love for my wife by being fully present when she has something to say, asking clarifying questions to make certain I’m truly understanding her, and then being careful to respond with appropriate action.
So, I get what Jesus was saying to his disciples in John 14:15. He was trying to help them understand that the affection they had for him should result in obedience to all he’d taught them. And since that clearly applies to us too, let’s make sure our sincere loving translates into deep listening and careful doing. And let’s make sure we engage in that process beginning right here with this verse by paying close attention to what he meant. To do that, we need to take a closer look at some of the words he used.
By beginning with the conditional particle if, he wasn’t questioning the sincerity of his followers’ love but the type. The word translated as love in this verse is the one the New Testament uses almost exclusively to describe the kind God has. It’s a sacrificial love defined more by what it does than what it feels. Oh, it’s replete with feelings, but it’s not satisfied until those feelings motivate a costly offering of itself. Jesus wasn’t demanding action as proof of their love. Instead, he was inviting them into the kind of love that results in action.
Then, there’s the word translated here as keep. The original Greek is less about doing as instructed and more about how those instructions are valued. It’s not describing obedience for the sake of obeying, the kind required of a servant. It refers to the sort of careful attention and diligence one gives to carrying out the directions of someone held in highest regard like the requests of a dear friend.
And that’s what’s at the heart of this profound, one-sentence verse of Scripture. Jesus wasn’t acting like an immature teenager saying, “If you really loved me, you would do what I say.” He was welcoming those closest to him into a deeper form of relationship. In fact, being responsive to the loving commands of our precious Savior is so tightly integrated into the fabric of the kind of relationship he wants with us that it’s an indispensable part of what defines it. 1 John 2:3 says, “Now by this we know that we know Him, if we keep His commandments.”
So, I think this is probably an appropriate moment to evaluate how responsive we are to the Lord’s commands. And if that reflection reveals an approach that’s more casual than careful, we need to be honest with ourselves about what that might be saying regarding the nature of our love for him. But the beauty of John 14:15 is that it extends to all of us the opportunity to enter a deeper way of knowing him, one that naturally produces an obedience born of true affection.
In my early twenties, I was hired by a company that installed solar pool heaters. But I quit after only a few weeks because they repeatedly sent me out in the company truck to do installations without first ensuring that it was stocked with the parts, tools, and supplies I would need for the job. I’d show up at the homeowner’s property as an authorized representative of the company but without the resources to fulfill anyone’s expectations. It was embarrassing for me, disappointing for the client, and shameful for our firm. So, it shouldn’t be a surprise when I tell you the business went bankrupt soon after I resigned. But I think that episode in my employment history may help us better understand something very important Jesus taught his disciples in John 14:12-14.
He’d just validated the importance of displays of his miraculous power as pathways to faith by inviting Philip to a belief based on his works. Then, he used that invitation as a bridge to introduce another of the truths he wanted to equip his disciples with as he prepared them for the aftermath of his cross and resurrection.
He told them their faith would enable him to dispense miracles through them. In fact, he said they would be vessels for even greater works than they’d seen him perform precisely because he would be ascending to the father. And although his reference to greater works was surely not about magnitude – they’d seen him raise Lazarus from the dead, for goodness’ sake – it was about quantity. He was describing the multiplying impact that would result when his physical presence was no longer a limiting factor, and he could, from the platform of his heavenly glory, pour out his power through all his followers.
And if that statement wasn’t mind-blowing enough, he followed it with a real zinger. Jesus told them that he would do anything they asked in his name and that his Father would be honored as a result.
Did he really mean that?
I think it’s clear he did, but I also think it’s clear that we need to be careful not to misinterpret what he said. He wasn’t giving his followers a blank check to receive whatever they desire if they just remember to close their prayers with a certain phrase. He was being very specific about two things that were prerequisites for the fulfillment of his anything promise.
First, praying "in Jesus’ name" does not mean using that phrase as a kind of spiritual incantation to unlock God’s favor. It means that our requests flow out of and are in sync with our assignment to serve as his representatives. Unlike my former employer, when we're acting as his agents or in his name, we are never under-resourced. He has promised to provide all that’s needed.
Second, Jesus said the kind of request that unleashes his miraculous response is the kind that's focused on glorifying the Father. Whenever we approach God in prayer, it’s wise to consider the motives behind what we ask of him. It’s important to honestly confront any selfishness and align our motives to reflect honorably on him.
Are these just caveats that let God off the hook or provide him an excuse when we don't experience the miracles we ask for? Absolutely not! The Lord of Glory prefaced his promise with the phrase, “Most assuredly, I say to you.” And that's an expression that means nothing is more true than this. He went on the record with a pledge we can absolutely count on. And that means you can trust him to do anything you ask in his name.
My wife and I have been married nearly fifty years, but we almost didn’t make it past ten. At that point, Sue walked out on me and had every right to. I was so controlling and self-absorbed that although I’d been with her for a decade, I didn’t really know her. I’d never sufficiently invested my heart in the pursuit of discovering, celebrating, learning from, and being changed by the rich treasure of who she is. And the loss of those first years, is the deepest regret of my life. But the grace of God and her willingness to forgive gifted me with a second chance. And in the years since, as the Holy Spirit has been healing my brokenness, it’s become my heart’s delight to daily explore and marvel at the wonders of this luminous creature I’ve been blessed to share life with. I love the adventure of getting to know her.
And that experience informs how I approach John 14:7-11. At its heart, is a searing question. Jesus asked, “Have I been with you so long, and yet you have not known Me, Philip?”
Jesus had just highlighted another of the essential understandings the disciples would need in preparation for his ascension. He’d restated something they’d heard him refer to many times. He reminded them that through the testimony of his life, they’d been able to see the Heavenly Father.
So, it must have been quite jarring when Philip, sounding as though he’d completely ignored Jesus, responded by saying, “Show us the Father.” And it was this bizarre request that prompted the Lord to reply with the poignant and haunting query that although addressed to Philip, needs to be wrestled with by every Christ-follower. It challenges us all to consider whether we’ve been satisfied to simply be with Jesus or committed to getting to know him.
You can hear the heartache in the Lord’s voice as he lamented Philip’s failure to grasp the truth that defined the core of his being. He and the Father are one. If Philip hadn’t cared enough to get to know that about him, it called into question the genuineness of his faith and the depth of their relationship. So, he implored Philip to either believe what he’d taught him or at least what his works demonstrated about it.
But there’s a big difference in those avenues to faith. The first is based on communication – what Jesus said. The second is based observation – what Jesus did. The first involves a choice rooted in Jesus himself, the second on evaluated evidence about him. They both arrive at belief, but the first is personal the second empirical. The first is a more direct route to relationship. The second requires an intermediate step. And that’s why Jesus offered it to Philip only as an alternative. His priority is always to welcome us deeper into relationship. He wants us to know him.
Has your faith-journey become more pragmatic than intimate? Has it devolved into an arrangement that’s more like just being with Jesus than getting to know him? If so, that can change right now. Let me remind you of the Lord’s promise in Revelation 3:20 where he said, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me.”
That offer is not just for the day you first responded to his loving grace. It’s also for every day that follows including this one.
In the final hours before his crucifixion, Jesus remained focused on making sure his disciples were ready. And in John 14:4 he summarized a couple of the critical understandings they’d already received by stating that they knew where he was going and how to follow him there.
But in verse 5, Thomas took issue with that.
Now, it’s clear Jesus wasn’t wrong in his assessment of what the disciples knew. Thomas was just giving voice to a fierce, internal struggle that was preventing them from acknowledging what they’d been taught. They didn’t want their Lord to leave them, so they resisted accepting what he’d told them about it. It’s pretty easy to hide things from ourselves when they have to do with something we don’t want to know.
But in verse 6, Jesus responded to Thomas’ rebuttal with two of the most direct and consequential sentences in the whole Bible. Using the definite article, he said he was the way, the truth, and the life. Then, referring to what he’d previously said about his return to the Father’s house, he declared himself the only means of accessing that glorious presence.
His choice of words was strategic. He was unambiguous. He couldn’t have been clearer. He said a relationship with God is only accessible through him, declared himself to be the exclusive revelation of truth, and claimed to be the sole source of life. And this creates a big problem for anyone who wants to assert that Jesus is only one of many ways to reach God, interpret truth, or pursue life. To believe that, you have to attribute what he said to arrogance, self-delusion, or egocentrism. And none of those things can reasonably be ascribed to Jesus.
We live in an age of deeply embedded relativism. Absolutes are roundly rejected. So, like Thomas and the other disciples attempting to hide unwanted knowledge from themselves, some people are predisposed to ignore Jesus’ emphatic self-definition. But these two sentences of his own words push back forcefully and unapologetically against the idea that there’s flexibility in what we choose to think about who he is. There’s not. His statements crowd us either toward belief or unbelief. There’s no wiggle room.
If you’re looking for a back door to heaven, seeking to reshape truth to fit your paradigm, or hoping to carve out a life that straddles the spiritual fence, don’t bother trying to somehow shoehorn Jesus into those pursuits. You’re on your own.
He’s either who he said he is or he’s not. If he’s not, we’ve got to be honest with ourselves about that and stop the foolish pursuit of looking to him for anything of value. But if he is who he said he is, then we need to be honest with ourselves about that and stop looking to anyone or anything else for what only he can supply.
A few years ago, my wife and I inherited the little house she grew up in near the beach in Southern California, and we decided to make it our home in retirement. So, we embarked on a big remodeling project. The house had seen better days and needed lots of repair work. But because we also wanted to have room for our kids and their families to visit, we added two bedrooms to make a total of four.
Scattered among those rooms are three sets of bunkbeds to accommodate all the grandkids. And each of the bunks has its own corkboard mounted to the wall next to it so the little ones can use pushpins to hang their drawings or whatever they like to create a personalized space. We want them to know they were planned for, their presence is desired, and that within our house, each of them is at home.
In John 14:2-3, Jesus continued helping his disciples process the announcement of his imminent departure by giving them a small glimpse into the eternal destiny it would secure for them. He said he’d be leaving to prepare a place for them within his Father’s house. And although I don’t think it’s possible within the limited framework of human understanding to fully grasp the preparations the Lord said he needed to accomplish in advance of the fulfillment of that promise, it’s clear they included the forgiveness of sins purchased with his crucifixion (John 1:29), the spiritual rebirth made available through his resurrection (John 3:3), and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit made possible by his ascension (John 16:7). But he told them that with everything prepared, he would one day return to escort them into that spiritual home they would share with him.
English versions of the Bible use the words mansions, rooms, or dwellings to translate the Lord’s description of this destination. But a more literal translation of the Greek would be something like a staying or abiding. Jesus was not saying his Father’s house contains a large number of individual suites. He wasn’t describing a place made up of many compartments. He was talking about an environment of belonging. He was using language that pointed toward the residing that happens in the Father’s residence. He was saying they would be at home in God’s house. He specifically avoided giving them details about the place – which they would have had no frame of reference to understand anyway – and focused their attention on what was most important: They would dwell with him.
These words of comfort and promise were not meant exclusively for the handful of followers with him on that night of his betrayal. Set within the context of the whole of Scripture, it’s clear Jesus was speaking beyond them and that moment to all who would follow him throughout history. And that includes you and me. The Savior wants us to know that his salvation project has remodeled heaven to make room for us. We were planned for, our presence is desired, and within his house, each of us will be at home.
I recently had the chance to babysit one of our grandsons. His dad was out of town, and his mom had an appointment to keep. So, I happily stepped in to watch him for the couple of hours she’d be away.
He and I have a great relationship, and I know he loves and trusts me. But after about an hour, he got teary-eyed and said he missed his dad. I know part of it was just that he was tired and hungry. But I also know that separation anxiety is a real thing. And with his mom’s comforting hug temporarily unavailable, my reassurance that his dad would be home in just a couple of days wasn’t enough. His little heart was troubled.
That word is in the first verse of John 14, and I’ll bet you know what it means without me telling you. It’s not something just kids go through. You’ve experienced it yourself. But for the record, it’s translated from a Greek word meaning to be fearful, distressed, agitated, restless, perplexed, stirred up, or in pain. And I want to suggest that when we feel that way, a similar kind of insecurity is at its root. We become vulnerable to it when our circumstances conspire to make us feel God is distant and his comfort unavailable.
As Jesus continued to prepare the disciples for his crucifixion, resurrection, and return to the Father, he addressed the separation anxiety he knew they could experience when he was no longer physically with them. And he told them exactly what to do whenever their hearts were troubled. He told them to believe.
It’s important to note the Lord used the verb form of the Greek word for faith here. He didn’t use the noun which would have referred to a thing that exists. The belief they possessed wasn’t the antidote for their troubled hearts. The act of believing was. There’s a big difference. Faith is like having a house key on your ring. But it won’t get you inside unless you put it in the lock and give it a turn. Jesus was teaching them that dealing with a troubled heart would require more than having faith. It would require exercising it. And the same is true for us.
Christ-followers have crossed the threshold from doubt into faith. We possess belief. But you’ve already discovered that that faith doesn’t mean we won’t experience spiritual separation anxiety. Trying times that blunt our sense of the Lord’s presence and tempt us to feel alone to face them call for the verb from of our faith.
My grandson knew I wasn’t lying to him about his dad’s return. But in his distress, the faith he has that I would never deceive him proved insufficient to deal with the ache in his heart. He needed to make a choice to actively trust me in that moment. And in the same way, our times of struggle always provide us with the opportunity to exercise the faith we have in the love of Jesus by choosing to believe in him.
Is your heart troubled? Are you fearful, distressed, agitated, restless, perplexed, stirred up, or in pain? Does it feel like you’re somehow on the outside looking in on the Lord’s comforting presence? Put the key in the lock and give it a turn. Make the choice to actively trust your Savior’s love right now.
John 13 is a dense narrative, but part of it reveals Peter struggling to understand. He had trouble comprehending why Jesus wanted to wash his feet. Then, he was confused about which of the Twelve would become the Lord’s betrayer. And in verses 36-38, the chapter concludes with an account of what may have been his most significant dilemma.
Jesus had just finished reminding his disciples he would soon be leaving them. And although he’d previously said, more than once, he’d be returning to the Father, Peter responded by asking where he was going. It seems like Peter was suffering from a case of selective listening, that condition that affects so many of us and causes us to hear only what we want to hear. It’s as though he just didn’t want to deal with the Lord’s departure, so he blocked it out until the imminence of it suddenly broke through, and his thoughts were trying to catch up.
Jesus answered him by restating what Peter had already twice heard him say to the religious leaders (John 7:34; 8:21). He’d told them he was going somewhere he couldn’t be followed. But this time, in his direct response to Peter, he added the word now. In stark contrast to what he’d said to the Scribes and Pharisees, the addition of that one word unveiled a spectacular promise. He told Peter that although he couldn’t follow him now, he would later.
And the significance of that statement is beyond profound, it’s life-altering. When the moment arrives that, by faith, we accept the truth that his cross, resurrection, and ascension open the way for us to step across the sin-divide and be with Jesus eternally, everything about our lives on this side of that threshold changes. We begin to enjoy a seamless daily relationship with him no longer throttled by the limits of time. Forever has already begun.
But based on his follow-up question, it’s doubtful Peter understood all that. He just wanted to know why he couldn’t come now. And he claimed he should be allowed to because he was willing to lay his life down for the Lord. So, when Jesus questioned that commitment and announced that before the night was over he would fail to live up to it, it must have devastated Peter.
But as hard as those words would have been to hear, I believe they were an expression of grace. Perhaps more than any other prior exchange he’d had with Jesus, this could have been the one that marked the trail for him back from that terrible night when he denied knowing the Lord three times.
In the aftermath, he would have finally begun to understand. The promise that one day he would follow Jesus into the precincts of heaven was made with the Lord’s foreknowledge of his pending failure. And it wasn’t qualified with an if-you-don’t clause. It was given as an even-after-you-do covenant. And as the fog of his failure was clearing, he would have also realized his eternal destiny could never be based on his willingness to lay his life down for Jesus. It could only be secured because Jesus was willing to lay his life down for him.
I can’t know if it’s the same for you, but my social media feeds are typically saturated with photos and videos of my friends’ children and grandchildren. From infants asleep in their cribs to toddlers taking their first steps to grade schoolers playing soccer to high schoolers dressed for prom, they just can’t seem to help themselves. They’ve fallen head-over-heels in love with these sweet gifts from God and imagine everyone else in the world will too if they can just get a glimpse of their little lovelies mugging for the camera.
And something of that kind of deep parental devotion is heard in the voice of Jesus when in John 13:33-35 he addressed his little children. It’s a two-word translation of a single Greek word used only this once in the four Gospels and only sparingly in the rest of the New Testament. It’s a term of rich endearment like those a new mom might use to caption the latest pic of her little darling posted on Instagram. And if you’ve ever felt that kind of pride, delight and affection for your own child or been loved by a parent in that way, this expression is meant to help you sample a small taste of how the Savior feels about you.
But the magnitude of the awareness that we’re loved like that by the Lord of Lord’s can be difficult to take in. So, we generally choose to deflect its impact by imagining that this salutation is either exclusive to the disciples or thinly spread in a diluted way across all believers. It’s a challenge to allow ourselves to be enveloped by the full measure of the truth that Jesus, with detailed knowledge of our faults and failings, loves us as his dear children. And yet, here he is. The one who spoke the universe into existence is calling to each of us from this passage with tender words of equal power intended to secure our souls in the embrace of his compassion. How dare we resist!
Unless we stop disqualifying ourselves and make the choice to fully rest in the warmth of his affection, we won’t be able to fulfill the command he issued in this passage. He reminded his followers that he would not be physically present with them much longer. Then, he assigned them to be his ambassadors, and he told them to do that by loving others in the same manner he’d loved them.
He said this was a new commandment. Among the laws God gave Moses for the Israelites in the Old Testament was: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18). But now, Jesus was saying that to be his representatives in this world, it would not be sufficient to love others as ourselves. It would require loving others more than ourselves. It would mean learning to love like he loves. And the only way that can even begin to be possible is if we first personally experience it.
Until we stop letting the haunting awareness of our unworthiness keep us from living life fully enveloped within his love, we won’t be able to offer it to others. But if we take the risk of a freefall into his waiting arms and permit him to break the cycle of shame that feeds our hesitation, then, not only will our souls have found their true home, but we’ll be able to invite others into it. We’ll find ourselves effortlessly offering to others what we ourselves have received, and by doing so, reflecting into the world he loves the heart of Jesus for his little children.
The other day, I came across a video of an avalanche on YouTube. It was recorded by a guy flying over it in a helicopter. And in his voiceover, he attempted to describe the awesome beauty displayed in its unstoppable power to rearrange the landscape in its path. As I watched and listened, the concept of a beautiful power that radically changes things reminded me of John 13:31-32.
Glory is the divine word for beauty, and the Greek word translated FIVE times in these two verses as either glorify or glorified focuses specifically on the revelation of that beauty. John’s Gospel is full of references to glory, but here, something new is signaled by the Lord’s use of the word now. It sets apart this moment as distinct from all previous and draws attention to the unprecedented display of the beauty of God’s power being exposed in contrast to the demonic strategy being played out.
After Judas stepped into the black of night to execute his plan of betrayal, instead of the heavy-hearted handwringing we might anticipate, this passage suddenly erupts with the Lord’s description of an avalanche of glory. And its power would change the spiritual topography forever. The canvas may have been stained with the dark hues of Judas’ treachery, but against that backdrop, the bold colors and expressive strokes revealing the forceful beauty of the love of God would be more vivid as a result.
Jesus detailed this spectacular cascade of divine splendor that overwhelmed Judas’ treason. He said the glorification of the Son glorified the Father, and the glory of the Father was reflected in the Son. The abandonment, false arrest, mock trial, torture, and crucifixion would not be avoided, but Satan’s sinister scheme would ultimately backfire and result in the unveiling of something…well…glorious.
And that’s God’s intent for our lives too. Whenever we find ourselves dealing with dark twists in the storylines of our lives, it’s the on-going revelation of God’s beauty on display in Jesus that overcomes that shadowy sequence and rewrites the expected narrative. 2 Corinthians 4:6 tells us that it’s “the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus” that shines into our hearts and overcomes the darkness.
As we make our way through this not-yet-redeemed and sin-scarred world, it’s impossible to avoid those places where our paths intersect the corrosive plans of our spiritual adversary. But that terrain can be completely rearranged whenever we gaze with faith into the powerful beauty of God’s love reflected in Jesus. And no matter how troubling your current circumstances might be, right now is a perfect time to do exactly that. As soon as I finish this sentence, I invite you to pause in the Lord’s presence allowing your spiritual eyes to focus on the exquisite might of his gospel and experience your life’s landscape being reshaped by an avalanche of glory.
Following Jesus’ revelation that one of the disciples would betray him, John 13:22-30 provides a vivid narrative describing their quest to find out which of them he meant. John, referring to himself as a “disciple whom Jesus loved,” was reclining nearest the Master. So, Peter signaled him to ask the Lord who it was. When John leaned back and whispered the question, Jesus answered, “It is he to whom I shall give a piece of bread when I have dipped it.”
When the Lord then gave that sop to Judas, it coincided with the moment his incremental drift from follower to traitor consummated, and Satan gained deep access to his soul. Then Jesus told him, “What you do, do quickly.” So, Judas walked out under the cover of darkness to do something so unthinkable, the rest of the disciples still weren’t sure what had happened.
Did Jesus make a mistake when he chose Judas as one of the Twelve? John 6:64 and 70 make clear he knew from the beginning what Judas would eventually do. But Mark 3:13 tells us he chose those he WANTED. So, it’s reasonable for us to ask why he WANTED someone he knew would ultimately betray him. Was Judas disposable, a necessary evil? Did he choose him just so he could play the role of villain in the Gospel narrative and initiate the process that would lead to the crucifixion?
The intersection of God’s foreknowledge, his sovereignty, and our free will is a very mysterious place, and we always need to tread lightly there. But I don’t think Jesus selected Judas for the purpose of enabling him to become the most notorious backstabber of all time. I think he chose him so he would at least have an opportunity not to.
Consider this: Just as Jesus predicted Judas’ betrayal, he also foretold Peter’s denial. But it’s clear he didn’t choose Peter so he could fail. In the aftermath of his sin, John 21:15-19 describes the Lord meeting him on the shores of Galilee following the resurrection specifically to facilitate his repentance and restore his apostolic appointment. And that makes me wonder if a similar reconciliation might have been available for Judas.
How might Judas’ story have unfolded differently if he hadn’t ended his own life? Of course, we can’t know the answer to that. But I think it’s important to at least ponder this question because a lot of us have failed the Savior in ways that like Judas, betrayed his trust and like Peter, denied our relationship with him. We need to know if there’s a way back from that because the devil is always quick to use our uncertainty to undermine the assurance of our salvation.
1 John 1:8-9 states the obvious when it says, “If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” But then, it gloriously declares that, “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from ALL unrighteousness.” And since these amazing words were written to believers – people who had already placed their faith in Christ – they stand as a soul-securing reminder that no matter how we may fail our Savior, even after receiving his salvation, our sin can NEVER overpower his forgiveness. And even though there are always consequences produced by our disobedience that will have to be dealt with, whenever we confess or acknowledge our sin in repentance, we rediscover that we remain under the canopy of God’s grace.
Surely the awareness that informed these verses from John’s first epistle also shaped the phrase he used to described himself in his Gospel and applied to the rest of the Twelve as well…including Judas. And since we are also recipients of this stunning grace, it’s true for us too. Each of us is a disciple whom Jesus loves.
In the previous section of John 13, while responding to Peter as he washed feet, Jesus said, “You are clean, but not all of you.” And the text clarifies the Lord said this because, “He knew who would betray him.” At the time, he didn’t elaborate. Instead, he continued to focus the disciples’ attention on the example of holy servitude he was modeling. But after concluding that lesson, verses 18-21 record Jesus returning to that seemingly stray comment as he warned his disciples that they were about to witness the fulfillment of a messianic prophecy. He quoted from Psalm 41:9 and said, "He who eats bread with me has lifted up his heel against me." And he later clarified what he meant when he said, “One of you will betray me.”
Can you imagine how disturbing that must have been for them to hear? The revelation that one of their brothers-in-ministry would do this must have been profoundly unsettling especially since Jesus didn’t immediately identify the culprit. They must have looked around at each other in shock wondering which of them would do such a thing, why, and what would it mean for the rest of them.
That’s why the Lord was careful to preface his announcement by affirming their chosen-ness. He knew that once this bombshell dropped, they would need assurance that this one person’s backstabbing wouldn’t invalidate their calling. And he went on to explain that he was telling them in advance so that when it happened their faith wouldn’t be shaken. Then, emphasizing the importance of what he was about to say with the phrase, “Most assuredly, I say to you,” he reinforced his steadfast commitment to stand behind them as his sent ones in the same way the Heavenly Father stands behind him.
What a comfort that must have been for them to hear in that moment!
But what about Jesus? How did this affect him?
John, who witnessed this firsthand, stated that Jesus was “troubled in spirit” as he said these things. He wanted us to know that the Lord was experiencing pain erupting from a very deep place. And I suppose his inclusion of this description may simply have been the result of insight he’d received from the Holy Spirit as he penned his Gospel. But I think it’s more likely that it was observable, that Jesus was visibly shaken as he gave voice to his awareness of the impending treachery.
It’s important we never forget that Jesus was as fully human as he was divine. His foreknowledge as the Son of God about what was going to happen didn’t spare him from the emotional trauma he experienced as the Son of Man. The Greek word translated in verse 21 as betray specifically means to deliver a person to prison or judgment. But I think the fact that in this case it’s applied to the actions of a friend broadens its usage to include all the ways relational trust can be abused. Betrayal always hurts, and Jesus was deeply wounded by it.
We’ve all been there. So, it’s comforting to know our Savior understands what it’s like to have a friend trash a relationship you’ve invested your heart into. And anytime our relationships are violated, the comfort of his understanding is the shelter we run to. But the example of what he did in the face of his friend’s unfaithfulness is also important for us to see. He never allowed his pain to morph into anger and unforgiveness. Instead of obsessing about the ONE who was a backstabber, he kept his focus on serving the ELEVEN who weren’t.
Overcoming relational betrayal requires choosing not to live in its pain and allow it to infect your soul with the anger, distrust, and bitterness that will spiritually sideline you. It means pressing into the healing comfort of the one who truly understands and allowing him to redirect your focus from the violation of the one to the needs of the many.
It’s likely, based on his startled response, that Peter was the first of the Twelve the Lord approached with his wash basin. And since their conversation is the only one recorded, it’s easy to imagine the rest of the disciples as so overwhelmed with reverence for their master’s stunning humility, they were simply speechless. I picture the Lord quietly bending before each of them one by one within an awestruck silence broken only by the sound of splashing water as they experienced him doing the unimaginable.
There’s so much we don’t know. We don’t know how long he spent with each of them individually, what was communicated in his eye contact, or what tenderness was expressed in his touch. But we do know he expected them to serve others in the same way he’d served them. We know this because he said so. John 13:12-17 tells us after he’d finished, put his outer garments back on, and returned to his place at the table, he explained he wasn’t just trying to impress them with his humility. He was setting an example he wanted them to follow.
And I can’t imagine any scenario where that expectation of his first followers doesn’t apply to those of us who’ve come along later. We need to be cautious about how we proceed with our lives after this scriptural encounter with Jesus on his knees. The shadows of our self-centeredness cannot remain in the brilliant light of his others-centeredness. We can never again excuse ourselves from fulfilling the Lord’s command to do as he did.
In the final verse of this section, Jesus concluded this profound lesson on the servant-heartedness of his kingdom. And he said something unexpected. He said if we know these things and do them, WE are blessed. And that word blessed literally means happy. In other words, he was saying our personal happiness is linked to putting others first. But I don’t believe he was trying to incentivize servanthood. He was neither saying that happiness would be withheld from us as punishment unless we change our behavior nor that we will be rewarded with it if we do. He was just making clear that the path to life as he intended is always in his footsteps. Since we were created in his image, whenever we follow his example in anything, we find ourselves experiencing the life we were made for. And there’s no greater joy than that.
Among the most pleasurable experiences of my life have been the times I’ve been able to volunteer with a ministry called, Laundry Love (laundrylove.org). It’s a group of people around the country seeking to brighten the lives of low-income families and individuals by helping pay for them to get their clothes washed. All it required of me was to withdraw some quarters from my bank, drive to a laundromat in a part of town I don’t usually frequent, meander among the washers and dryers, greet the folks I encountered with a friendly smile, and offer to put some coins in the machines for them. But the joy of making even a small difference in the constrained budgets of these dear people in the name of Jesus is amazing. In fact, every time I’ve worked with Laundry Love I’ve felt guilty for how good it made ME feel. And if you’ve ever been blessed with the opportunity to serve others, you know what I mean.
We were made for this. And there are literally countless opportunities in this world for us to follow our Lord’s example of humble servitude. So, if you desire to experience greater happiness in your life, grab your wash basin. And if there aren’t any feet that need washing, maybe wash someone’s clothes instead.
Imagine how you’d react if the Queen of England showed up at your home for afternoon tea, and before you’d even begun to adjust to the realization you had royalty under your roof, she got up from her seat, tied an apron around her waist, and proceeded to make your bed, dust the furniture, clean your toilet, take out the trash, and give your dog a bath. How unthinkable, shocking, and embarrassing would that be! What would you say? Where would you begin?
That example doesn’t even come close to what the disciples experienced as their master, the Messiah, took on the role of a servant and began washing their feet. And John 13:6-11 records Peter’s clumsy, awkward, and inelegant words as he was verbally processing his way through this disorienting episode and trying to make sense of what was happening. But the passage also includes the Lord’s patient replies, and they teach us how to better handle those times when he’s up to things in our lives we don’t yet comprehend.
When Jesus approached him with his wash basin, Peter’s first reaction was to question the appropriateness of what the Lord was doing. The original Greek is very emphatic. He asked him, “Are YOU washing MY feet?” And if you’ve ever been so perplexed by what the Lord seemed to be doing you found yourself challenging his wisdom, I’ll bet you can relate. I know I can.
Isaiah 55:9 tells us that God’s ways and thoughts are higher than ours. And we need his to be. So, it makes sense that there would be times we’d have trouble comprehending his actions. But the Lord’s response to Peter was both comforting and encouraging. He said, "What I am doing you do not understand now, but you will know after this." And with that statement he was both expressing sensitivity to Peter’s confusion as well as promising to eventually make things clear. And that assurance is for us too.
Peter’s second reaction was unequivocal. He said, “You shall NEVER wash my feet!” But Jesus said, “If I do not…you have no part with me.” And although he was referencing the spiritual cleansing symbolized by the feet washing, he was saying the depth of Peter’s relationship with him was at stake in this.
Have you ever been bewildered by the Lord’s actions or inaction in a situation and found yourself entertaining the thought that a good God would NEVER allow this to happen? Well, the truth is, sometimes he must allow us to experience things we may not understand exactly because he cares so much about our relationship with him. And his willingness to do that despite the confusion it may cause is really one of the greatest expressions of his love. In those times, we need to let go of our insistence he do what we think he should and allow him to draw us closer to himself instead.
Peter’s third reaction was to tell Jesus what more he should be doing. He said, “Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands and my head.” Does that sound familiar? It saddens me, but I admit there have been times when I’ve accused my Savior of doing less than what the situation called for. The Lord’s reply to Peter was, “He who is bathed needs only to wash his feet.” And those words were meant to assure him he was doing no less than exactly what was needed. And that’s always true for all of us all the time.
The dialog in this section of the chapter concludes with Jesus drawing a clear distinction between Peter and Judas. And I have a hunch he did that specifically to reassure Peter that verbally processing his confusion was not considered a betrayal of his faith but a confirmation of it. So, let’s take comfort in what that means for us too.
My friend, Bobby Chance, really bugs me. We met in the mid 1970’s when we were members of a Christian rock band touring the U.S. and Canada sharing our faith through music. When that ministry concluded, he returned to his home state of Texas and began a business career. But a few years later, all that changed when he sensed God calling him to take the gospel to the streets. So, he quit his job, relocated his family to inner-city Los Angeles, and has been extending the love of Jesus to the homeless, addicted, trafficked, and forgotten in the heartless urban centers of the world ever since. And every time I try to settle into my comfortable suburban fortress insulating me from all that pain, the image of him running toward it deeply troubles me in a very good way.
Servant-heartedness is a way of being that is completely out of sync with this sin-scarred world where the arc of human activity is bent toward selfishness. So, the account of Jesus, in purposeful humility, washing his disciples’ feet is jaw-dropping in terms of its dissonance with our lived experience. People just don’t naturally prioritize the needs of others. The Lord was modeling a different way to be human – the way of the redeemed. He was providing a glimpse into a born-again personhood where we’re free and empowered to become more like him and less like us.
His extraordinary example was clearly meant to disturb the disciples and to set them up to embrace more of what it looks like to be a citizen of the kingdom his resurrection would soon inaugurate. And since our faith in him escorts us into that same kingdom, I think it’s obvious Jesus meant this episode to shake us up a bit too. It’s not until our fistfuls of old-creation expectations are jarred loose that we have the capacity to lay hold of new-creation understandings.
We’ve already considered some of these. In John 13:3, we encountered Jesus showing us the things servants know. And now, let’s look at his actions in verses 4 and 5 to learn about the things servants do.
First, by the simple act of rising from supper to serve, he showed us that servants balance receiving with giving. I’m not talking about physical food, but if there’s no input, there can’t be any output. If our serving isn’t nourished by feasting, we’ll soon burn out with nothing to offer anyone. On the other hand, if our sole focus is sating our own appetites, we’ll become spiritually obese. We need to ensure that we spend appropriate time at the table of self-care so we can offer ourselves to others sacrificially in a spiritually healthy and sustained way.
Second, when Jesus laid aside his outer garments, wrapped himself in a towel, poured water into a basin, and began washing feet it wasn’t something exotic. This service would have been offered as a matter of course by the household staff had he and his disciples not been forced to celebrate Passover in a borrowed room. What made it so shocking was not what was happening but who was doing it. The Lord was demonstrating that servants don’t concern themselves with seeking jobs that match their personal skillset, preferences, or sense of self-importance. They simply find a need and fill it. Most of the time, ministry is just about doing what needs to be done with a grateful and humble heart.
Third, when Jesus dried his disciples’ feet with the towel he was wearing, he was illustrating that servants absorb stuff. All of us engaged in caring for the needs of others will find ourselves dealing with the dirt people pick up along life’s journey. And some of it’s going to end up on us. This isn’t something to dread, resist, or complain about. This is one of the privileges of serving Jesus. We need to make sure we never get confused about who the real savior is, but while representing him, if we get the chance to take one for the team, how awesome is that!
I’ve got a long way to go, but I want to become the kind of person whose servant-heartedness evidences a new-creation way of being human, reflects Jesus better, and disturbs people in a really good way. If that mirrors your own desires, join me in prayerfully inviting the Lord to help us do the things servants do.
The sight of the Son of God on his knees washing his disciple’s feet depicted in John chapter 13, is one of the most shocking discoveries any reader of this Gospel will experience. It seems to arrive so suddenly that after you encounter it, you find yourself asking, “Where did that come from.” So, you circle back to try and grasp what you just read and find that verse 3 provides context for the Lord’s actions in verse 4, but those actions – rising from supper, removing his outer garments, and wrapping himself in a towel – don’t at first seem to be related to that context. So, when you arrive at verse 5, you’re completely unprepared for its dramatic depiction of such unimaginable and disorienting humility.
And it’s not only a staggering moment for those of us who observe this event on the pages of Scripture from the distance of millennia, it was far more so for the disciples who lived it firsthand, especially Peter. It takes another 12 verses of the Lord’s responses to Peter’s startled reactions before he and the rest of the Twelve begin to regain their footing and for the significance of what just happened to start to come into focus.
We need a similar debriefing by the Holy Spirit if we’re going to be able to take in its impact, and I plan to pursue that with you. But right now, I’d like to focus on verse 3 and the three things it tells us Jesus knew that made possible the kind of holy servanthood he displayed. If we’re ever going to serve others with the same heart he has – which was clearly his point – we need to know what he knew.
First, it says he knew, “that the Father had given all things into his hands.” He had nothing to lose. We’re often hesitant to serve others for fear of what it will cost us emotionally or in terms of time and money spent. But when we understand, as Jesus did, that we already possess the full measure of God’s favor and provision, we can give of ourselves to others with confidence that doing so can’t diminish us. God has fully resourced us with all we could ever need.
Second, we’re told he knew, “that he had come from God.” He had nothing to prove. His serving was a settled response to a divine assignment. He didn’t need to wash feet as way of validating that. When we serve as a means of affirming our calling instead of from a place of confidence in it, our service is self-serving and becomes polluted. But when our missional activity flows from a solid assurance that we’ve been sent by God to tangibly express his love in this world, it changes why we serve and what people experience from us when we do.
Finally, the text tells us he knew that he, “was going to God.” He had nothing to earn. His eternity was already secure. When we seek to gain God’s favor through acts of service, it betrays an insecurity regarding our relationship with him and becomes all about us instead of all about those we’re supposed to minister to in his name. Our faith in Christ is what has settled our eternal destiny, not our works. We will be with him forever, and nothing we may attempt to do for him can add anything to what he’s already done to secure the fulfillment of that promise.
The image of the Messiah stooping over a water basin to clean road dirt from his followers’ sandaled feet is breathtaking. It stands in stark contrast to the world’s sin-distorted concepts of authority. But God is inviting you and me to make his model more commonplace as we follow our Lord’s example. He calls to us from Philippians 2 verses 5 and 7 where it says, “Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus, who...made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant.”
Let’s take up his challenge by welcoming him to teach us the things servants know.
I experienced something of an emotional crisis during my wife’s second pregnancy. It didn’t last, but it was very real. Over a period of several days, I found myself nearly overcome with fear that I wouldn’t have the capacity to love our second child. I think I knew better, but I imagined my love as a limited resource that had already been fully invested in our firstborn. And now, I was afraid there would be nothing left to offer her sibling. But thankfully, it wasn’t long before I discovered that parental love is not a zero-sum game where someone can win only if someone else loses. It’s as though something opens up in the hearts of moms and dads that taps into a limitless reservoir. And I’ve come to understand that that something is a gift from God that reflects how he loves all of us equally.
Having completed his ministry to the crowds as well as his debates with the religious leaders, the thirteenth chapter of John’s Gospel launches the section that reveals Jesus fully focused on the cross and preparing his disciples for what would follow. It strategically provides details regarding this season of the Lord’s ministry that the earlier-written, synoptic Gospels don’t. And it begins with a moving account of the master washing his disciples’ feet that results in a vivid lesson on servanthood. But the first two verses set the stage for that episode by giving us a majestic description of the love that motivated Christ’s mission set against a backdrop of the sinister satanic maneuverings at work to stop it.
The Passover feast was approaching. It was the final one Jesus would celebrate with his disciples – The Last Supper, as it would come to be known. And although the Lord was keenly aware his crucifixion was imminent, instead of turning inward to brace himself for the impending suffering, verse 1 tells us that “having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.”
At the point when anyone else would have become self-absorbed, he continued to focus his loving attention on others. Yes, the text clearly refers to the Twelve. But if we stop to consider who these men were, we can easily locate ourselves in their company and hear these life-giving words as an expression of the Savior’s heart for everyone.
These weren’t stained-glass saints whose holiness merited special affection. Within hours, Peter would deny he ever knew Jesus. James and John were impulsive and arrogant. Bartholomew was prejudiced against Galileans. Matthew was a white-collar criminal, Thomas a skeptic, and Simon a political revolutionary. And then there’s the ultimate villain of the Gospel narrative: Judas. Verse two makes clear that among those Jesus would love to the end was a man who by the time the seder meal was served that evening had already embraced a Satan-inspired determination to betray him to the Jewish authorities.
If that couldn’t disqualify someone from the steadfast love of Christ, nothing can.
Even if our theology is better than this, many of us subconsciously believe God’s love is a limited resource, and he manages it by giving more or less of it to certain people based on the worthiness of their piety. But none of us deserve God’s love. Romans 3:23 plainly states we’ve all sinned and fallen short of God’s standards. And yet Romans 5:8 says, “God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
His is a limitless love that envelopes each of us equally in its embrace. A love that 1 Corinthians 13:8 tells us will never fail. So, if you’ve marginalized yourself in terms of how you imagine the quality and quantity of the love God has for you, think again. His Father-love is not a zero-sum game.
The last seven verses of John 12 conclude Jesus’ public preaching. Afterward, he would spend his remaining time prior to the cross focused on preparing the disciples for their future ministries. So, in this final discourse to the crowds, he passionately raised his voice and issued one last call to faith.
He started off by clarifying that to believe in him meant believing in the one who’d sent him. Then, he reminded them of the three things he’d done to help them do that. He’d shown them what the Father is like, reflected his light into their darkness, and declared to them his words warning that those words would one day serve as their judge if they rejected him.
And with that, it was over. There was just no more to say. It was time for them to make their choice and he left them to it. But I’m deeply intrigued by that succinct-yet-profound, three-fold description of the Lord’s ministry and how it impacts all of us.
First, he showed us what the Father is like. We don’t have to wonder or guess. The maker and master of all things pressed his glory into human flesh and lived among us (John 1:14) putting his love, wisdom, power, authority, tenderness, kindness, and holiness on display. God is not a philosophy to be debated, a concept to be shaped, a mystery to be solved, or a mythology to be embellished. He has a very real and indelible face, name, and history in Jesus of Nazareth. And although he’s infinitely greater than flesh and blood could ever contain (Romans 11:33; 1 Timothy 6:16), the incarnation made it possible for him to be seen, touched, followed, studied, emulated, and ultimately believed on with a faith anchored in facts (1 John 1:1-3).
Second, he reflected the Father’s light into our darkness. He made it possible for us to recognize our need. We’re so accustomed to and enveloped by the inky depths of our sin that we’re unaware of our spiritual blindness until the shining example of the righteousness of God in Jesus breaks through revealing the impassible chasm between us and him. But then, like a rising sun illuminating a new day (Luke 1:78), Jesus also reveals the bridge across that divide opened for us through his love and sacrifice.
Finally, he declared the Father’s words to us. He made it possible for us to hear God. Through the things Jesus said, the folly, distortions, lies, and deceptions that poison, ruin, and enslave us are exposed and undone as God’s truth sets us free (John 8:32). His teachings also inspire, instruct, nourish, and guide us. But his words not only contain the power and wisdom of God, they reveal his heart. In them, we hear the sound of his voice.
When someone speaks, they’re engaged in two streams of communication at once. There’s what they say and how they say it. The first stream provides the informational content, the second supplies the relational context. And we all know what it’s like when they don’t match, when what’s said informs but wounds in the process. But the words of Jesus always contain divine truth wrapped in the love of God. Even when his message seems confrontive and hard to receive, we always hear the unmistakable sound of our loving Father speaking life to us and caring enough to say what we need to hear.
The Lord’s final public sermon was a call to faith. And an exploration of what he said that day elicits a response too. It’s just not possible to leave a consideration of the wonder of these three aspects of his life and ministry without ourselves being drawn to a fresh expression of belief that results in a renewal of devotion. Let’s offer him both.
Even though the previous section stated that many of the people who witnessed Jesus’ miracles made the choice not to believe in him as Messiah, John 12:42 reveals that there were many who did, including some among the Jewish ruling class. But we’re told they didn’t want to make their faith public because they were afraid of being excommunicated. Then verse 43 adds this: “They loved the praise of men more than the praise of God.”
Part of me would prefer that sentence wasn’t in the Bible at all, but I especially wish there was a way to avoid reading it in its context because this is not a description of those who’d rejected Christ. This exposes something ugly in the hearts of believers. And since I happen to be one of those, I can’t just ignore this passage. I need to stop and search the recesses of my own soul with a willingness to answer the question of whose opinion matters to me. I need to confront the issue of whose favor I’m seeking.
Excommunication was no joke. It literally meant becoming “unsynagogued,” expelled from nearly everything that defined Jewishness. But for those leaders, it wasn’t just about what they were afraid of losing if they went on the record with their belief. The text indicates their main interest was in what they thought they could gain by keeping their faith private.
It’s described as “praise,” which is a translation of a word meaning opinion or estimation. In other words, they wanted others to have a good opinion of them, to be esteemed, held in high regard, respected. And they thought they could achieve that best by holding their faith in Jesus close to the vest.
If I’m honest, I have to confess that I’ve been guilty of this approach in the pursuit of affirmation. There’ve been times when I’ve chosen to veil my Christianity to gain a higher ranking in the opinion of unbelievers I wanted to impress. On those occasions, I told myself I wasn’t really denying my faith, I just wasn’t volunteering it. I even justified what I was doing by convincing myself I’d be in a better position to share my testimony once I’d gained the favor I sought.
But as sinful as all that is, the real issue here is not about whether I’m always upfront with my beliefs, it’s about the foolishness of seeking the approval of the world. The affirmation I seek cannot be gained from people. The favor of others is fickle, shallow, and fleeting. The only opinion of my worth that can truly satisfy my soul’s longing is God’s.
The Greek word translated as “loved” in this passage is the verb form of “agape.” And the New Testament uses it almost exclusively to describe the love of God – the love that he has for us, that we offer back to him, and that we extend in his name to others. So, when we’re told “They loved the praise of men,” it indicates that they were seeking something from people that can only be received from God. It’s his opinion of us that matters.
But maybe the reason I seek the approval of others is that I’m so deeply aware that I don’t deserve his. Can you identify with that? If so, let’s remind each other that there’s a blood-stained cross emphatically declaring for all time how much he values us. It shouts into our doubts his affirming love.
Is it possible for someone to observe something but make the choice to not see it?
I’m a Star Wars fan and have a prized collection of memorabilia that people have given me over time. But when we relocated to Southern California after retiring, my compilation remained in a moving box in our garage for a couple of years. Then, some of our grandchildren came for a visit and wanted to see it. So, we spent a couple of enjoyable hours unpacking, viewing, discussing, and playing with my souvenirs.
Afterward, instead of putting everything back in storage, I decided to find a way to display the items in the house. But I had to come up with a plan for doing it that wouldn’t conflict with the ambience of my wife’s carefully crafted interior design. So, I made the decision to build a special shelf for them above my desk in the small room the two of us share as an office.
Now, you have to understand, it’s a tiny space with our desks facing opposite walls and only three feet apart. And when I started my project, Sue was at her desk working on her laptop editing a new book she’d just written. Admittedly, it wasn’t an ideal time for me to be measuring, drilling, hammering, and arranging my display just 36 inches away. But she was so focused on her work and blocked what I was doing out of her mind so effectively that it wasn’t until weeks later when our grandkids were visiting again and pointed out to her the result of my labors that she finally saw my Star Wars shelf.
Like the dust bunnies under the bed we’ve ignored for so long that we no longer see them, if we make the choice to not see something, we can reach a point where we can’t see it. And this type of willful disconnect with reality is what’s being described in John 12:37-41.
This passage sadly reports that most of the people who’d witnessed the many miraculous signs Jesus performed made a conscious choice not to believe. And it quotes two Old Testament prophecies from Isaiah addressing this. The first one (Isaiah 53:1) predicted that people would observe the “arm” or power of the Messiah but choose not to acknowledge his divinity. The second one (Isaiah 6:9-10) said that because they would make the choice to not see, they would enter a state where they wouldn’t be able to see, and tragically, be unable to receive the spiritual healing being offered.
I’m a Jesus-follower and have been most of my life. I chose to see him with eyes of faith and receive his saving grace long ago. But salvation is not the only aspect of my relationship with him that requires a willingness to see.
For instance, to benefit from the work of his Spirit addressing my destructive habits and behaviors means first being willing to stop ignoring or excusing them and acknowledge them as sin. Until I confess or see them for what they are, I won’t cooperate with his sanctifying work. And the longer I close my eyes to this reality, the closer I get to not being able to even recognize my need. James 1:22-24 describes this as self-deception that’s like viewing ourselves in a mirror but walking away without taking action on what we’ve seen and forgetting what we really look like.
The Christian life requires moving beyond observing to seeing. But we can always do so without fear. The light Jesus uses to reveal our spiritual imperfections in that mirror is the same light he uses to transform them. So, I invite you to join me today in claiming the promise of 2 Corinthians 3:18. “But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord.”
Last summer, my wife and I went for a bike ride along the beach near our home to a restaurant for dinner. After we finished our meal, we realized we’d lost track of time and the sun was setting. That meant we'd have to make much of the ride home in the dark, and we hadn’t thought to bring headlamps or flashlights. So, we found ourselves in a precarious situation. It was difficult to see where we were going and to avoid colliding with obstacles in the bike path. After making it home, we decided that in the future we’d stick to doing our bike riding in daylight.
Jesus used a similar illustration as he spoke to the crowd in John 12:35-36. He ignored the question they posed in the previous verse when they asked, “Who is this Son of Man?” He’d already addressed that issue with them on several occasions. So, instead of engaging in another attempt to explain his messianic mission, he chose instead to address the root cause of their failure to comprehend it.
They didn’t need more information. They needed to make a choice.
He told them it was time to walk in the light they’d already received. And since he’d twice previously described himself as “the light of the world” (John 8:1; 9:5), they’d have understood what he meant. It was time to step forward and begin their faith-journey while he was still present to illuminate the path. But he told them that wouldn’t be much longer. Unless they began advancing into the brilliant glow of belief, they’d soon find themselves groping in the dark.
Then, he added this mind-bender. He said if they would place their faith in the light, they would become its offspring. What did he mean by that? Well, again, the crowd would’ve understood he was referencing himself. So, they wouldn’t have missed his meaning. He was inviting them to become his children by placing faith in him as their messiah and promising if they did, his light would become more than an external phenomenon. It would become their identity.
Then, to illustrate the urgency of what he’d just said, we’re told he departed from them and concealed his whereabouts. Although he’d likely just gone back to Bethany for the night, it was a dramatic way to leave his audience considering the impact of his message.
I think this passage leaves us in the same state, pondering how to respond to its truth. And it’s clear this is about more than just our initial step from darkness into light, that moment we first cross from doubt into belief. It’s about every step of faith that follows that one.
As we live our lives in pursuit of Christ, we’ll frequently find ourselves entering pools of his illumination as we face circumstances, read his word, or hear the voice of his Spirit pointing the way forward into new dimensions of trust. On those occasions, it’s not usually more information we need, it’s a choice we need to make. And the time to make it is while Jesus is lighting it up because there’s often a time limit on those moments of his revelation.
You may be experiencing one right now. If so, I challenge you to stop hesitating and step forward with faith that the light of the world is not only with you to lead the way but to deepen your identity as his child.
I’m sad to say I never really fully appreciated my parents until I became one. Oh, I knew they loved me, and I was genuinely grateful for that. But it wasn’t until I had my own kids that I realized how much that love cost them. Our appreciation of a gift and how deeply we value it always depends on our awareness of what it required of the giver. And I believe this lesson is at the heart of John 12:31-34.
Following up on his earlier statement that the hour had come for his glorification, Jesus is quoted in verses 31 and 32 describing three things that would result from it and when they would happen. First, he said the world in its corrupt, broken, distorted, and sin-scarred state would be called out and condemned – the system perpetuating so much pain would be brought to an end. Second, he declared the one who’d engineered and ruled over that system would be expelled – the usurper would be shown the door. And third, he announced he would draw to his healing embrace all those who’d suffered under the tyranny of that darkness – the righteous one would make all things right.
He also said the fulfillment of these wonderful and powerful promises would be immediate. He used the word “now” twice in one sentence to emphasize that the wait was over. His turning the world right-side-up, casting out the interloper, and wooing the formerly enslaved to the freedom of his love would begin without delay.
There’s just so much glory contained in these verses it’s hard to even begin to take it in. And if that stirs your heart to want to explore, comprehend, and embrace more of what this passage describes, don’t miss the importance of the next verse.
Verse 33 is a commentary note clarifying what Jesus meant by the Greek word translated into English with the phrase, “lifted up.” It tells us he was describing how he would die. And it’s clear from verse 34 that those who heard Jesus say this understood what he meant without requiring clarification. It was not a veiled reference. He would be crucified. He would be “lifted up” on a cross.
And if the Bible itself tells us how we should interpret a passage, we don’t have much liberty to expand on its meaning. There’s a lot of symbolism this phrase can evoke, but here in John 12, regardless of any other significance it may have, the text is clear that our interpretation of “lifted up” is supposed to stay narrowly focused on how Jesus died.
He suffered.
Crucifixion was an horrific and excruciating method of execution. And to pause for any length of time to meaningfully consider the physical pain Jesus endured, along with his unimaginable spiritual suffering caused by the temporary rending of his relationship with the Father as he bore our sin and was “forsaken” as Mark 15:34 describes, is a painful process itself. But our ability to grasp the scope of what the cross purchased and to live fully within its benefits is directly tied to our understanding of the price he paid.
We should not allow the shadow cast by that brutal timber where Jesus bled and died to consume us with sorrow. But we don’t want to be too quick to step out of it. According to Philippians 3:10, we need a deeper fellowship with Christ’s sufferings so we can live more fully in the power of his resurrection. We are uplifted when we understand more of what it meant that he was “lifted up.”
After announcing that the time for his crucifixion had come, John 12:27-30 reveals Jesus sharing – very transparently – what he was feeling as he looked ahead to the cross. He confessed that his soul was troubled. That must be the greatest understatement of all time, but I’m grateful for this glimpse into the soul of the Savior. Though none of us can begin to comprehend the horrors he faced, we all can relate to the experience of having feelings of trepidation about a challenging future. And it’s deeply moving to know he understands.
But more important than the comfort this passage provides in the knowledge of Christ’s empathy for our agitated hearts, is the example it records of the Lord’s response to his own. The rightness of the rhetorical question he asked, the truth he proclaimed, and the prayer he prayed was powerfully affirmed by the audible voice of the Heavenly Father providing a divine exclamation point that Jesus said was for our sakes.
So, it would probably be wise for us to listen up.
First, let’s consider the question he asked. In anticipation of the horrors of the cross, Jesus wondered aloud whether he should ask the Father to save him from it. Now, as someone who has experienced saving grace because he didn’t, I don’t want to even entertain the thought that Calvary might not have happened if he had. But it was a real option and one I wouldn’t have hesitated exercising. Whenever I face the prospect of pain of any sort, my first and only prayer tends to be, “God, save me from this!” But he didn’t do that.
And that brings us to the truth he proclaimed. He declared that even in the midst of that dark prospect, he was confident the purposes of God at work in it could be trusted. Contrary to my desire that life never include any form of discomfort, the Bible is clear from cover to cover that sin has unleashed suffering in this world and my faith does not spare me from it. But it does promise that I’ll never face heartache alone or outside the canopy of God’s meticulous, purposeful, and powerful plans for my life.
So, even when staring down the hardest of times, I can learn to pray what Jesus prayed, “Father, glorify your name.” I can confidently welcome him to demonstrate the beauty of who he is in every situation. I can always face the future with the knowledge that no matter what, his name will never be associated with anything that’ll harm me. The path to my tomorrow my pass through some pain, but that’s not the same thing. It may hurt but it won’t harm. And any pain he allows me to experience is always in service of something good.
It’s probably not the best illustration, but I recently added a new component to my exercise routine. It’s forcing me to work some muscles in a new way, and I’m really feeling the burn. It’s not pleasant, but it is good. Although my natural inclination is to avoid the soreness, that pain is the signal that I’m getting stronger.
2 Corinthians 2:17 says, “For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” Let’s cling tightly to that promise as we step forward into every challenge we encounter in this life. And let’s always be sure to ask ourselves the question he asked, proclaim the truth he declared, and pray the prayer he prayed.
There’s a big difference between gatekeepers and ushers. The former are concerned with limiting access, and the latter are engaged in facilitating it.
Now, it’s not usually possible for someone to make direct contact with a notable or important person without going through a gatekeeper – someone who manages the flow of engagement with a VIP. And John 12:20-23 records an incident where two of the disciples found themselves thrust into that role.
A group of Greek-speaking pilgrims that had come to Jerusalem for Passover wanted to meet Jesus. We can’t be certain of their motive, but while mingling among the crowds in the city, they undoubtedly heard about Jesus and his miracles. So, it wouldn’t be surprising if they were drawn to him like those seeking to meet a celebrity.
First, they appealed to Philip. Then he conferred with Andrew, and the two of them brought the request to Jesus. But he neither denied nor granted the group an audience. In fact, he seemed to ignore the request altogether. It’s as though he simply refused to play the fame game.
Instead, he declared that the time had come for him to be glorified. And in direct contrast to the concept of glory that may have motivated the pilgrims to seek him, he wasn’t talking about the realm of fame and fortune, of audience-seekers and gatekeepers. He was talking about his crucifixion.
In verse 24 he described the pathway to honor in the kingdom of God, revealing how very different it is from the one the world pursues. He used the analogy of a grain of wheat being planted in the soil. He said the process of its decay that results in the emergence a new fruit-bearing plant is an illustration of the kind of glory he sought and what it requires. His meaning was clear. For him, glorification is the result of giving life to others, and that requires self-sacrifice not self-promotion.
In that context, he went on to say in verse 25 that if we fall in love with the kind of self-centered life this world offers, we’ll find it slipping through our fingers. But if we reject that folly and pursue the self-sacrificing life he modeled instead, we’ll gain it.
Then in verse 26, he said if we follow the path of his example, we’ll experience the power of his presence along with the only kind of glorification that matters: the honor of the Heavenly Father.
He wasn’t calling for martyrdom, but he was pointing to the cross.
Matthew 16:24 quotes Jesus saying, “If anyone desires to come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.” There’s only one cross where the price for our sin could be paid and only Jesus could carry that one. But according to him, his followers will have their own to shoulder. And it’s certain ours will resemble his in this respect: We’re going to die on it.
That may sound a little harsh. But it’s not about loss, it’s about transformation. The grain of wheat undergoes a type of death that transforms that single seed standing alone into a growing plant that reproduces. And if Jesus is going to be able to engage us in his mission of life-giving, spiritual fruitfulness in this world, we’ll need to go through a similar process.
It’s not about physical death. It’s about something much more challenging: dying to self. According to Romans 12:1-2, that’s not about sacrificing our lives, it’s about become living sacrifices. It’s about relinquishing our self-focused agenda, allowing Jesus to reshape our thinking, and experiencing the personal transformation that aligns our hearts with his will.
I don’t mean to criticize Phil and Andy, and I don’t think the Lord’s teaching here should be considered a rebuke to them. But since his will is always focused on extending his life and love to people, following his selfless example will mean laying down our self-centeredness to serve as ushers rather than gatekeepers.
John 12:12-19 describes Jesus entering Jerusalem for the final events of his earthly ministry leading to the cross and resurrection. He was met by an excited crowd made up of Passover pilgrims who’d either personally witnessed him raising Lazarus from the dead or had heard about it. And the resulting scene caused the Pharisees to express with exasperation, “The world has gone after him!”
This passage contains quotes from two Old Testament messianic prophecies. The first one is chanted by the enthusiastic throng, and the second is recorded as having been recalled later by the disciples as they considered what happened that day.
According to the custom for someone worthy of high honor, the people began laying palm branches along Jesus’ route into the city. And then, they quoted from Psalm 118:25-26 crying out, "Hosanna! 'Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!' The King of Israel!" But they misinterpreted this prophecy and allowed themselves to get caught up in a frenzy of ecstatic hope that Jesus was about to fulfill it by overthrowing their Roman overlords and establishing the kingdom of God among them.
But Jesus neither incited nor fed their foment. In fact, he very strategically chose to enter Jerusalem with an act of humility. The symbolism was stark and clear. A king engaging in conquest would ride a strong warhorse. One arriving in peace would sit astride a docile donkey. And that’s what he did.
We’re told the disciples didn’t grasp the significance of this contrast between the triumphal shouts of the crowd and the humble optics of Jesus’ choice of ride until after his resurrection. Then, they recalled the prophecy of Zechariah 9:9, “Behold, your King is coming to you...lowly and riding on a donkey.” And the Hebrew word translated as, “lowly,” means poor, humble, gentle, or meek.
Jesus couldn’t have sent a clearer message. Even as the crowd clamored for political regime change through messianic power, he was declaring his mission to bring about a spiritual one through messianic surrender. He hadn’t come to set himself up in triumph but to lay himself down in sacrifice. And specifically, because he humbled himself, Philippians 2:5-11 tells us that every knee will bow before him.
And yet, many of us who claim to follow him, don’t seem to grasp the impact of his example. Based on what I hear from some prominent Christian leaders, catch in conversations with other believers, read on social media, and see on the nightly news, it appears that many of us today – like the chanters in the streets on that first Palm Sunday – think the kingdom of God is established through triumphalism which the dictionary describes as, “The attitude or practices of a church that seeks a position of power and dominance in the world.” But Christian history is littered with the debris of the wreckage caused by this folly.
Jesus said in John 18:36 that his kingdom is not of this world, so his servants don’t need to fight to make it so. Our job is not to establish it through our activism – political or otherwise – but according to Luke 10:9 announce its presence through our acts of service in his name and escort others into it.
Yes, I’m aware that Ephesians 6 commands Jesus-followers to put on the armor of God. But I also know that verse 12 of that chapter declares, “we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.” And Colossians 2:15 says that battle has already been won, not with weapons of warfare but with a splintered cross where a donkey-riding Jesus, “made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them in it.”
John 12 verse 9 says that many Jews from Jerusalem discovered Jesus was in Bethany and had come to see him as well as Lazarus, the man he’d brought back to life. And although it doesn’t appear that the Lord was trying to keep his movements secret, this statement is significant because in the last verse of chapter 11 we’re told the religious leaders had issued a command that anyone with information concerning his whereabouts was required to report it. So, it’s hard to imagine no one did, but regardless, no arrest was made.
However, verses 10 and 11 report that to stem the tide of belief sweeping through the crowds in the aftermath of Lazarus’ resurrection, the Jewish elite determined to silence him. And what was the crime that earned him the death penalty? Breathing. He threatened them by simply living the life he’d been given by Jesus. And that’s true for us too.
As Jesus-followers, we threaten the kingdom of darkness with every breath we take. We may not have been raised from the dead physically, but we most certainly have been spiritually. Colossians 2 verse 13 says, “And you, being dead in your trespasses...He has made alive together with Him.” And just by going about our daily lives, we testify to Christ’s love, forgiveness, and redeeming power.
In Galatians 2 verse 20 the Apostle Paul says, “I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me.” And this is true not only of the super spiritual with the title, Apostle, before their name. Simply by carrying out the routines of godly living, every believer is pointing others toward the Savior and calling them to faith in him.
Even when we don’t feel very Christ-like, we’re his representatives. Without quoting Scripture, preaching a sermon, or behaving like a saint, we are a reflection of his glory into this dark world. It’s not about what we do. It’s about what we are – alive through his grace.
With every lungful of air and beat of our hearts, we withstand those spiritual forces arrayed against the gospel. Just by showing up, just by living the life we’ve been given, we illuminate their darkness with our Redeemer’s light.
So, if the enemy is attempting to silence your testimony today, don’t be surprised that you’ve become a target. But don’t be afraid either, just breathe.
The other day, while I was preparing this commentary on the first section of John 12, the Holy Spirit convicted me of something. I'd recently composed a social media post, and he exposed the fact that my motive was to generate likes, shares, and approving comments – even envy – solely to garner personal affirmation. And as I sat there with my prideful motive naked before God’s scrutiny, he began to use this passage to speak to me in a fresh way. Actually, he seemed to be asking me this question: “What do you want to be known for?”
The cliffhanger that concluded John chapter 11 with uncertainty about whether Jesus would return to Jerusalem for Passover and risk capture by the religious authorities, is resolved with the opening of chapter 12. Verse 1 describes Jesus’ arrival in the Jerusalem suburb of Bethany six days prior to the sacred feast. He was clearly en route to the holy city, but he stopped to visit his friends Mary, Martha, and their brother, Lazarus, whom he’d recently raised from the dead.
During a meal they shared together, verses 2 and 3 tell us Lazarus sat at the table with Jesus, Martha served, and Mary did something completely unexpected. She opened a small container filled with a precious aromatic oil that was worth a year’s wages and poured it out onto the Lord’s feet. Then, she used her hair to wipe them and the entire house was filled with the lovely fragrance.
In verse 5, Judas criticized her action as the waste of a resource that could have been sold to provide help for the poor. But verse 6 clarifies his comment was motivated out of selfishness because he had control of the disciples’ money box and embezzled from it.
Then, in verses 7 and 8, Jesus responded to Judas’ criticism by affirming the value of what May had done. He commended her sacrifice saying she was anticipating and honoring his coming death and burial.
Over time, she became renown for her act of costly worship. In fact, this event had become so widely shared among believers by the end of the first century when John penned his Gospel that he could refer to it when introducing her in chapter 11 verse 2 even before describing its occurrence in chapter 12 verse 3.
And here I am discussing it with you 2,000 years later.
Her example surfaces the question I think we all need to ask ourselves.
All of us want to be valued and known in the righteous sense of those words. We desire to make a positive mark on this world. We want our lives to matter. And I believe those aspirations are godly. According to John 14:12 and 13, Jesus wants to empower us by his Spirit to do even greater works than his so we can impact the world in his name.
But the fulfillment of that depends at least on our willingness to honestly ask ourselves what we want to be known for. Will we allow our noble desires to be hijacked by an ambition to merely attain personal acclaim, or will we subjugate selfish motives so that we can give honor to our Savior and make him famous?
Both Judas and Mary are remembered for what they did there that day. One was motivated by selfishness and the other by her love for Jesus. Which do you want to be known for?
Lord, may we be like Mary, regarded for our sacrificial acts of worship that release the fragrance of heaven into this world?
The 11th chapter of John’s Gospel ends with a cliffhanger. In verses 53-57, we learn that the religious leaders had developed a plan for putting Jesus to death and that they'd issued a command for anyone with knowledge of his whereabouts to report it so they could arrest him. In response, Jesus, along with his disciples, left the city for the seclusion of a wilderness area. Then, we’re told that some Jewish pilgrims who’d gone up to Jerusalem early to prepare themselves for Passover were wondering if Jesus would brave the risk of capture and return to the city to celebrate the feast as required by Scripture.
But the outcome of the events in this episode of Jesus’ ministry is left dangling in uncertainty, creating suspense that engages our interest in what comes next. We want to know how this will turn out, but we have to wait for the next chapter.
And that sounds familiar doesn’t it? Our lives' stories periodically reach cliffhanger moments when we desperately wish we knew what was going to happen next but are forced to wait to find out.
Most of us would prefer it had a single, predictable storyline, but life unfolds in a series of episodes like the acts of a play or the installments in a video series. And the toughest part of the Christian experience is navigating the uncertainty of the intersection where one episode concludes and the next begins. Even if the current one has been especially challenging, it can be quite difficult to let go of what we know for what is yet to be revealed.
It can feel a little like being in the lobby during the intermission of an engaging drama. You applauded as the curtain came down, dried your eyes from the emotion the tale has stirred so far, and as you wait in line at the snack bar, the lights flicker signaling that the curtain is about to rise on new developments in the story. But now, you’re uncertain if you want to go back for more.
You'd developed a rapport with the characters you’ve already been introduced to and become comfortable with the ending you were projecting in your imagination. But what if the author takes things in an unanticipated direction? What if something tragic happens to a character you’re emotionally invested in? What if the finale doesn’t live up to your expectations? Maybe you should just pack up and head for the door with whatever satisfaction you’ve received from what you’ve already experienced along with your anticipated version of the ending. Wouldn’t that be better than racing back to your row, tripping over people’s feet in the dark as you try to locate your seat, and risk trusting the storyteller?
But that’s what life’s all about – trusting the Storyteller. Leaning deeply into his plot twists, welcoming the unexpected with faith, and enjoying the journey in joyful hope toward the revealing of a glorious mystery is the life we were made for.
Doubt and fear want to rob us of the pleasure of this wildly thrilling and deeply satisfying experience. So, don’t give place to them. In Christ, we never need to be afraid of life’s cliffhangers. He’s not making it up as he goes. He's working from a carefully crafted script.
Psalm 139:16 says, “Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me when as yet there were none of them.”
If you feel like you’re waiting in the foyer with trepidation about what may come next, please let me encourage you to make the choice to grab your popcorn, step through the door, and settle in for the magnificent adventure that's been written for you.
In the fall of 2004, Sue and I made our first trip to Asia. We traveled to Taiwan to teach in a ministry training school made up of young people from literally ever corner of the world. And we quickly found ourselves being stirred into a wonderful soup of nationalities, cultures, and ethnicities and adding our voices to a glorious symphony of worship made up of many languages rising before God’s throne. It was a foretaste of heaven. We were captivated by a rich sense of the unity in our diversity made possible by our Redeemer. The experience impacted us deeply and altered the course of our ministry. And I can’t help but reflect on those memories when considering John 11:51-52.
These verses form a pause in the apostle’s narrative where he provided a brief commentary on what he’d just described in the previous two verses. In making the case for the reasonableness of killing Jesus, the high priest had said it would be better that one man should die for the people. So, John stopped to underscore the prophetic significance of that statement. He wanted his readers to understand that even though these words were spoken by an enemy of Christ, the sovereign God was using Caiaphas to declare his redemptive purpose for the coming crucifixion. It would not be merely a dark result of the conspiracy of a religious cabal but the glorious fulfillment of the strategy of his loving grace.
And in addition, John said the redemption secured by the substitutionary sufferings of Jesus would unify all the children of God. And we know from what he later wrote in 1 John 2:2 that his use of that phrase was not only inclusive of Israeli Jews and the Diaspora but of the whole world as well. He was looking ahead to the cross that would become the supreme point of unity for anyone anywhere who would become a child of God through faith in the saving grace of Jesus.
Whatever our background, nationality, skin color, age, gender, politics, language, or occupation, Jesus people are all rooted in the blood-stained soil of Calvary where our redemption was purchased. We share a holy communion through the one who there paid the price for the sin that separated us from himself and from each other. The Lord has made possible and welcomed us into a friction-free and seamless relationship with him that he meant to also characterize the new kind of community he’s empowered us to enjoy with one another.
In fact, this is such a divine priority that among the few prayers of Jesus recorded for us in the New Testament, John 17:21 reveals him petitioning the Father on our behalf saying, “…that they all may be one, as you, father, are in me, and I in you; that they also may be one in us, that the world may believe that you sent me.”
As the world around us tears itself apart in deep schisms of hostile animosity, the church’s Spirit-formed oneness is meant to stand in sharp contrast. Our genuine fellowship is intended to be a beacon illuminating the power of the Gospel, a lighthouse of love pointing the conflict-weary to the shelter of the Prince of Peace. And that example has never been more needed than now.
This moment in history cries out for the testimony of a unified church. Not a theological, ecclesiastical, political, cultural, or racial conformity, but a spiritual solidarity, a holy harmony that flows from the only thing that truly matters – our love for Jesus.
May each of us who call him Savior invite the scrutiny of his Spirit to reveal any ways our attitudes or actions have contributed to divisiveness within the Body of Christ. Then, if needed, let’s be quick to repent so that what was said of the early believers by those who observed their sincere affection may be true of us as well: “See how they love one another!”
Unable to refute the veracity and impact of his miracles, John 11:47-48 observes the Jewish elite at their wits end concerning Jesus. They were wringing their hands over how to respond to the threat he posed to their religious authority. They feared that if left unchecked there would be an avalanche of faith in his messiahship forcing Rome to upend the fragile arrangement that allowed them to operate with pseudo-autonomy.
Then, verses 49 and 50 describe how the high priest muscled his way into the panic and ended the discussion making the case that the only logical solution and best thing for the nation was to kill Jesus. Yes, you heard that right. The senior faith leader authorized the murder of Jesus as the best response to the situation.
It seems there’s no limit to the evil we humans have the capacity to authorize ourselves to commit. Even a brief reading of history provides all the confirmation of that we need. And I’m not pointing fingers. I’m including myself in that indictment.
No, I’ve never contemplated causing someone’s death. But I have given myself permission to jeopardize the lives of others by setting my own speed limit on the freeway so I could get where I wanted when I wanted. And I once successfully talked myself into the reasonableness of underreporting my income on my tax return. And that had the downstream effect of making less money available for those dependent on government support to feed their families. I’ve also been guilty of justifying my disregard for the worth of others on the basis of their appearance. And I could on, but it’s depressing.
It’s just so easy to convince myself to do what I think is best for me regardless of the cost to others. Jeremiah 17:9 says, “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked.” There’s a little Pharisee inside of me that’s quite proficient at excusing my wickedness. And that’s exactly why I need Jesus.
He’s the one who makes possible the fulfillment of Ezekiel 36:26-27 where God promises his people, “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you...I will put my Spirit within you and cause you to walk in my statutes.”
That heart transplant happens once and for all at the moment we place our faith in Christ as Savior. But redirecting our stride and learning to walk in his statutes is a process that requires both time and cooperation with the work of the Holy Spirit. That’s what Colossians 2:6 is addressing when it says, “As you therefore have received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him...”
And that’s what I want, to more consistently follow in my Savior’s footsteps by welcoming the Spirit of God to help me muzzle my Pharisee and conduct myself in a manner that better reflects the Lord I love.
According to John 11:45, many in the crowd that witnessed the resurrection of Lazarus became believers as we might expect. But verse 46 tell us some of them instead went to the Pharisees and reported what Jesus had done. They weren’t disputing what happened or expressing skepticism. They were simply alerting the religious leaders that Jesus had raised a man from death. And since the Pharisees’ opposition to Jesus was well established, it’s clear they’d made a choice, in spite of the reality of what they’d seen, to align themselves with the unbelief of the religious elite.
And that unbelief was not a denial of the facts. It was a conscious resistance to the faith response those facts elicited.
It's really hard for me to comprehend, but the Gospels consistently report this dichotomy resulting from the miracles of Jesus. There were those who were moved to faith by the amazing things they’d seen and those who’d seen the same things but made the choice not to believe.
For reasons specific to his purpose, out of all the miracles Jesus performed, John selected only seven of them for inclusion in his Gospel. Still, it’s an impressive list. He recorded Jesus turning water into wine at a wedding in Cana, healing a royal official’s son in Capernaum, healing an invalid at the Pool of Bethesda, feeding 5,000 men plus women and children near the Sea of Galilee with five loaves and two fish, walking on the waters of the Sea of Galilee, healing a blind man in Jerusalem, and raising Lazarus from the dead in Bethany.
How’s it possible for someone exposed to this array of empirical evidence to willingly resist its powerful call to faith? I honestly don’t know. But I do know that no matter how overwhelming the evidence, faith is always a choice. And that means God has gifted everyone with the right to reject him. The maker and master of all things will never mandate or coerce belief, and he also grants complete freedom to refuse it. But that’s what true love does.
I once wrote these lyrics to try and capture the sense of this:
And although He knew that it was best That we should live our lives in his rest Perfect love must stand the test And so, he left to us the choosing Laid his love out on the line For us to receive Or turn to follow our own design
It’s sad to imagine anyone doing that. But the truth is, we all have. The first part of Isaiah 53:6 says, “All we like sheep have gone astray. We have turned, every one, to his own way.” But then, referring to what Christ has done in response, the last part of the verse says, “And the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.”
In other words, despite knowing many would reject him, Jesus still went to the cross. His love compelled him to take our sin upon himself and pay its penalty with his own life so that there would be a way for the rest of us to be forgiven and made right with God through our faith in his sacrifice.
As hard as it is for me to contemplate the possibility of someone turning away from this amazing gift, I’m deeply moved by the divine compassion that offers it. And I never want to take it for granted. Even though my faith in Christ is the result of a choice I’ve made, the availability of that choice is the result of a love beyond comprehension and a gift beyond measure.
Lord of glory, may the crowning achievement of every day I live be a fresh expression of my faith. I choose to believe. You deserve nothing less.
With the door to the tomb wide open so anyone who wanted could observe the miracle in progress, John 11:43 records the Lord shouting, “Lazarus, come forth!” Then, verse 44 announces that after four days of lifelessness, the formerly deceased friend of Jesus and brother of Mary and Martha walked out of his grave. His exit was somewhat impeded by the cloth wrappings that had been used to prepare his body for burial. So, Jesus invited some in the crowd of stunned observers to participate in the miracle and said, “Loose him, and let him go.”
Come on! This is just flat out amazing! Words fail. I don’t know what else to say but, “Praise God!” It’s an astounding event in the life and ministry of Jesus – so simply described, and yet so powerfully impactful. And that impact stands on its own without requiring any commentary from me.
But there is something in this passage I’d like to highlight, and it’s this: When the Lord speaks, it will usually produce something that needs to be unwrapped.
God’s words are powerful. They create, heal, and restore. They change things in both the visible and invisible realms. Listen to what the Lord himself said about this in Isaiah 55:11:
So shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; it shall not return to me void, but it shall accomplish what I please, and it shall prosper in the thing for which I sent it.
Consider the magnitude of the cosmos that erupted from the simple phrase, “Let there be light.”
But his words are also always densely packed with divine perspectives, insights, revelations, and instructions. Psalm 119:105 says:
Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.
So, if the full dimension of what God intends to set in motion through his words is going to be realized, we need to be more than casual observers of what they produce. We also need to become willing to engage in the process of unpacking the depth and complexity of their meaning. And that’s true whether they’re shouted into a tomb, breathed onto the pages of Scripture, or whispered into our souls.
Whether it was contained within something someone said, a moving piece of music, a Bible passage, or a dramatic sunset, most of us have had moments when we sensed the Lord communicating with us. And it’s sobering to realize those expressions from his heart are meant to both do things and reveal things. So, let’s change how we respond to them.
That means instead of just enjoying the moment and allowing the message to quickly fade from our awareness, we’ll treasure his words enough to capture them by writing down what we believe we’ve heard, telling someone else, or prayerfully acknowledging them before God. We’ll make time to carefully consider what was said, meditating on it, probing its implications, and inviting the Holy Spirit to expand and illuminate it for us. And we’ll respond to what was said with appropriate surrender, repentance, and obedience.
When we learn to value the voice of God by doing these things, we’ll find ourselves becoming more sensitive to its sound. We’ll be quicker to recognize and respond to moments of divine encounter and discover they happen more often than we once thought. More importantly, as we become committed to the discipline of unwrapping, like the bystanders Jesus invited into Lazarus’ miracle story, we’ll be better positioned to participate in the wonderous things Jesus is always doing in the lives of others and the world around us.
John 11 verse 41 tells us that when Lazarus’ grave had been opened, Jesus lifted his eyes heavenward and thanked his Father that he’d been heard. But it’s a little puzzling for us as readers because we’re not given the transcript of what had been said. We don’t even know when he said whatever it was. What we do know is that he went on in verse 42 to explain this expression of gratitude was for the sake of those observing him.
And since in a way, that includes us, I believe we need to stop and consider the implications of this curious and often-overlooked passage before moving on to the main event of Lazarus’ resurrection. Why? Because everything Jesus said and did was meant to be an example to us. These verses are not here just to pad the story. They teach us something.
The Lord clearly wanted the coming miracle to be seen as a response to something he’d requested from the Heavenly Father. He intended it to provide further evidence of his messiahship to those who were present and inspire their faith. But he was not thanking God in advance for what was about to take place. He said he was grateful he’d been heard. And that’s the key.
Although it can’t be known with certainty, it seems reasonable from the context to assume that if Jesus was referring to a prayer he’d offered at the scene, it would have been recorded for us. But it’s not. And I think that at least means he wanted the crowd to understand what they were about to witness was the powerful result of Son-to-Father communication that took place out of their hearing.
Could that private prayer have taken place just prior to these statements? Of course. But it could just as easily have happened hours or days before. And it’s entirely conceivable he was bringing to light something that happened as far back as when the news of Lazarus’ illness first reached him.
His response to that sobering message from Mary and Martha was emphatic. He said, “This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God…” And I think it’s quite possible his confident declaration flowed from an inner assurance that a silent request he’d made to the Father in that moment on behalf of his friends had been heard.
And if that’s the case, it’s a powerful lesson to us. In the time between that forceful proclamation and the moment Lazarus walked out of his tomb, things became progressively dark and appeared hopeless just like what sometimes happens in our circumstances.
But when we truly know we’ve been heard by God it literally changes everything. We find ourselves more able to trust our concerns to his plans and timing. It ushers us into what Philippians 4:7 describes as “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding.” And as Jesus expressed, it gives rise to a thankfulness that’s not about an outcome we’re expecting but about the awesome knowledge that we’ve received an audience with the Lord of Lords and Maker of the Universe.
Earlier this week, our son called to tell us his doctor had removed some tissue from his leg, and it had been diagnosed as malignant melanoma. So, my wife and I immediately went to God in prayer, pressing hard into him until we sensed that deep assurance of his peace. We can’t know how the rest of this story will unfold at this point, so we’ll continue to pray our way through it. But we’re not afraid because we know we’ve been heard!
And that assurance can be yours as well regarding whatever you may be facing today. Claim the promise of Isaiah 65:24 where your Heavenly Father says, “...while they are still speaking, I will hear.”
I say this a little tongue-in-cheek, but one of the greatest acts of bravery I’ve ever witnessed happened a couple of years ago. Some skunks had moved into the crawlspace under our house. We became aware of it because they apparently got into a fight and sprayed each other which created an unbearable smell throughout our home. But when the pest control guy arrived and got to work, I was in awe of the fearlessness he exhibited as he suited up to go under the house directly into the teeth of that stinky situation. That took courage.
But all kidding aside, it takes far more courage to be willing to open the crypt in our souls where unbelief has buried the decaying remains of our broken dreams. We spiritually recoil from the risk of exposing the foul aroma emanating from the moldering mess of our disappointment, anger, and heartache. But the Lord must take us there if we’re ever going to experience a revival of hope.
And that’s the lesson of John 11 verses 38-40 which set up the climax for the account of the resurrection of Lazarus.
On the way to this miraculous moment, Jesus had repeatedly made it clear that death would not be the end of the story. He’d said this episode would instead result in a display of the glory of God. But those involved just couldn’t seem to believe there could be anything beyond the physical reality of Lazarus’ passing. So, as the Lord approached the cave where his friend’s lifeless body had been entombed, he was deeply moved not only with emotional empathy for their grief but also with sorrow over their lack of faith.
When he asked that the stone covering the grave’s entrance be moved, Martha resisted, cautioning him that the stench from the decaying body would be overwhelming. But I think, based on the Lord’s reply, that her response revealed more than a practical consideration. It exposed how far she’d allowed herself to travel down the road of unbelief.
Her earlier conversation with Jesus had awakened a fresh confidence in who he is. But unbelief buries hope, and much of hers was in the grave along with her brother’s body. She was grieving her way through to a future without him, and it seems she'd already become so invested in her new reality she just couldn’t imagine there was any alternative. I mean dead bodies stay dead and rot, end of story.
But as he always does, Jesus was challenging earthbound assumptions and illuminating a heavenly perspective. With a statement in the form of a question he called her to believe what he’d said over what she thought she knew. By asking that the tomb be opened, he was also asking her to be willing to reopen the story to a different ending. He was inviting her to trust the power and faithfulness of his word more than the limitations of her own understanding.
Jesus has an annoying habit of confronting our doubts. His loving heart just refuses to abandon us to that confining state which so vastly limits our experience of his glory
Do you have a buried hope rotting in a tomb dug by unbelief? If so, don’t be surprised when Jesus asks you to move the stone that covers that grave. We must brave the putrid scent of our faithlessness and expose the decomposing corpse of our unfulfilled hopes if we’re going to witness the unimaginable wonder of his power to restore what we thought was lost. He’s really good at resurrecting broken dreams, and you can confidently bring yours to him right now.
After bringing her pain and disappointment to Jesus and being sensitively escorted by him into a fuller understanding of who he is, John 11:28 tells us Martha delivered a deeply moving private message from him to her sister. She told Mary, “Jesus is here and calling for you.”
It’s hard to imagine that Mary hadn’t been notified of the Lord’s arrival in Bethany at the same time as Martha. They were grieving their brother’s passing together within a group of mourners. So, when Martha got the news and immediately went to meet him, it seems Mary made a personal choice not to. And I can understand that. There’ve been times when I’ve felt so let down by Jesus that I didn’t want to talk to him either.
Still, Jesus specifically reached out to her through Martha to assure her that in the midst of the heartache, confusion, and discouragement she was experiencing, he was present and inviting her to come to him.
Verse 29 tells us she quickly responded to his loving invitation, and verses 30 through 37 describe their encounter. Jesus didn’t scold her for hesitating to come sooner. He didn’t offer an explanation even though he knew a dramatic miracle was on its way. He simply allowed to her express her sense of betrayal and wept with her.
And that brings back a very vivid memory.
At the beginning of 1993, I had uprooted my family from their home, schools, church, and a city we all loved because I’d been asked by our denomination to provide pastoral leadership to a church in another part of our state that was in crises. It turned out to be a huge challenge. We had earnestly prayed before making the decision, but – almost immediately after moving – sensed we’d made a disastrous choice.
The church was in far worse shape than we were told, our kids had a very hard time adjusting, our finances took a hit, our marriage struggled, and I was mad at God. I found myself in the small, rural community of Visalia, CA – a place few people have ever heard of – feeling unappreciated, ineffective, unfruitful, and abandoned.
For several years prior, I’d attended a large gathering of pastors from around the world each fall in Southern California. It was always a highlight of my calendar. But that year I didn’t want to be around my peers and was in no mood to act like everything was OK between me and Jesus because it wasn’t. And I really couldn’t afford to go anyway which I was also upset about. But at the last-minute, I decided to go after all.
I entered the auditorium filled with 2,000 church leaders for the first session and tried to find a seat as far away as possible from the platform and anyone that might recognize me. I don’t recall the theme of the speaker’s message, but as he was concluding, he was encouraging us with a reminder that God had called us to the cities we served. With the implied answer being, "yes," he rhetorically asked, “Is there a man of God in New York? Is there a man of God in Chicago? Is there a man of God in Dallas? Is there a man of God in Los Angeles?” All world-class cities. And then he asked, “Is there a man of God in Visalia?”
I couldn’t believe it. Who’s ever heard of Visalia? But it was like Martha’s message to Mary, “Jesus is here and calling for you.”
After the meeting, I raced back to the room where I was staying, fell to my knees in the rich sense of his presence, and wept. I was awestruck all over again by the love of the one who showed up in my darkness and called me out of a crowd just so he could hold me in his arms while I unburdened my soul. And I rose from those sweet moments changed. My circumstances were the same, but I was now reconnected with my Savior and that made everything OK.
As with Mary, there was a miracle on its way that I wouldn’t have been able to understand at that point. But having the assurance of his empathy and nearness was really all I needed. And no matter what you’re going through, it’s all you need too.
Please hear this urgent, personal message from your Savior today, Jesus is here and calling for you.
As she brought the sting of her brother’s passing to Jesus, Martha expressed a very human mixture of both pain and belief. John 11:21 and 22 record her broken heart saying, “You could have prevented this,” while her faith was saying, “I still believe you can do something about it.” But these statements expose a very constrained perspective. And the conversation that follows in verses 23-27 reveals Jesus sensitively, compassionately, and purposefully escorting her toward an expanded and liberating one.
Like most us, she didn’t realize how much a fear of death was restricting her vision and restraining her spiritual freedom. She agreed with the Lord’s promise that Lazarus would rise again but said she believed it wouldn’t happen until “the last day.” And if you imagine that eternal life only begins at some point after this one has ended, then you can find yourself overly preoccupied with preserving this one, and our adversary will use the threat of its premature loss to blackmail you with fear.
Hebrews 2:14-15 tells us that part of Christ’s mission was to “…destroy him who had the power of death, that is, the devil, and release those who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage.” Of course, it’s natural and appropriate through healthy choices and reasonable caution to try and preserve your physical life. But like Martha, most of us don’t realize how much liberty we forfeit when we’re in the grip of the fear of losing it.
So, here we see Jesus calling one of his dear ones to an understanding that the life he offers begins the moment we place our faith in him and extends seamlessly into eternity unaffected by physical death. He told her that resurrection isn’t a future event, it’s a person. This passage contains the fifth of the “I am” statements in John’s Gospel. Jesus told Martha, “I AM the resurrection and the life,” and went on to say that that truth renders death both immaterial and impotent. He told her that those who believe in him may pass through the portal of physical death but never die.
I hope you’ll understand that I’m not trivializing what Martha was going through by sharing this story. But my wife and I really enjoy visiting Disneyland in Southern California where we live, and it’s been closed for months because of the Covid-19 pandemic. So, when we heard that Walt Disney World in Florida was allowed to reopen, we started considering the idea of making a trip out there to enjoy one of our favorite vacation activities.
We’ve been appropriately cautious regarding the virus, but last week, we boarded a plane and made a trip to the Sunshine State for a Disney fix. Was it risky? A little. But we found that the Disney company had gone to extraordinary lengths to protect their guests, and we had a wonderful time.
It devalues a precious gift from God when we take inappropriate risks and foolishly endanger our lives. On the other hand, it dishonors the magnitude of his salvation when we’re so concerned about not dying that we don’t really live.
But fear of death is not just about loss of life. It’s also about loss generally. There’s more than one kind of death a person can face. It’s possible to experience the death of a marriage, a friendship, or a dream for example. And the fear of that can be equally paralyzing. But Christ’s victory on the cross is expansive enough to swallow up that kind of anxiety as well.
At the close of this passage, Martha stepped into a fuller faith-perspective when she proclaimed her confidence in who Jesus IS. Belief in what he can DO is far less important than faith in who he IS. That’s the kind of faith that breaks the bonds of the fear of death.
Is that fear nibbling away at your life today? Are you anxious about losing something or someone? Remember, he IS the resurrection and the life.
It’s likely that Lazarus had already died by the time the urgent message from his sisters imploring Jesus to come to Bethany was received. Then, the Lord waited two more days before starting the journey. And John 11:17 states that by the time he arrived, Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days. Jesus’ apparent failure to answer their cry for help must have been heartbreaking and crushingly difficult for Martha and Mary to comprehend.
Verses 18-20 tell us that in the meantime, they’d been surrounded in their grief with the presence and comfort of friends as well as religious leaders who’d come from Jerusalem to be with them in their time of need.
Then, as word of the Lord’s imminent arrival reached them, we’re told that Martha immediately left that circle of support and went out to meet him, but Mary chose to remain with the mourners at their home. This difference in how they responded to Jesus in their time of disappointment and heartache begs an important question.
How should we handle those times of deep disillusionment when it feels like God has failed us? Do we run to bring our heartache and confusion to him or remain huddled with our grief and nurse our sense of betrayal?
I was a young staff pastor when I got a call in the middle of the night. An airline pilot who was part of the Bible study group I was leading had just perished in a plane crash. He was a new husband with a new baby, and his sudden passing shook me to my core.
My wife and I quickly joined the brigade of friends and family who were mourning with his wife and attempting to surround her with care and comfort. And although we all did our best to provide what she needed, we quickly discovered the limitations of what we could offer.
But I was amazed to watch her purposefully gather up her load of unbearable pain, profound loss, overwhelming fear, along with deep confusion and bring it to Jesus. It wasn’t that she was in denial of her grief process. But she had awakened, at a very deep level, to an awareness of her desperate need for the Savior in that dark season. And it was a wonder to witness the indescribable peace that began to settle over her soul as she welcomed the Lord’s presence into her pain and allowed him to shoulder her burden.
I believe that’s what opened the door to one of the most amazing things I’ve ever witnessed.
After I’d finished my part in the funeral service and taken my seat in the front row of the chapel, our lead pastor offered his closing remarks. He gave a brief and simple presentation of the gospel followed by an invitation to receive the saving grace of Jesus. He asked everyone to bow their heads. Then, he welcomed those who wanted to become Christ-followers to lift their eyes to meet his, and by that act acknowledge their decision.
Honestly, I was embarrassed by what he was doing. In the wake of such a devastating tragedy, I couldn’t imagine anyone choosing that moment to place their faith in Jesus. But with my head bowed and eyes closed, I heard my pastor begin to acknowledge those who were responding. I was so surprised, that I opened my eyes and started scanning the crowd for myself. And sure enough, people were committing their lives to Christ. And one specific couple captured my attention – the pilot’s parents. They walked into that service as unbelievers with every reason to not want anything to do with God. But they left that day having opened their hearts to the love of Jesus.
Disappointment, confusion, and sorrow always present us with a choice. And much is at stake. Do we wrap ourselves in the blanket of our pain and let it define our future or do we place it in the nail-scarred hands of the one whose comfort and power release redemption, restoration, renewal, and resurrection.
Have you ever wished God would be more clear about something? I think every Christian has, especially when we're going through something difficult and are desperate to know why. Often in those situations, both the Bible and the inner voice of the Spirit seem silent or the answers given insufficient or confusing.
That’s what happened in John chapter 11 verses 11-16 when Jesus attempted to explain to his disciples why he’d waited before departing for Bethany to be with his sick friend. He tried to help them understand that he’d purposefully allowed Lazarus to die and sufficient time to pass so there could be no doubt about his being deceased. That way, when the Lord dramatically brought him back to life, their faith would increase.
But they struggled to comprehend.
Jesus was being neither cute nor mysterious when he told them that Lazarus was asleep. He was simply employing a commonly used idiom. And they would have immediately understood it in the context of the seriousness of Lazarus’s illness to mean that he had died. But the Lord added that he was going to wake him. And in their limited perspective, this changed the context. So, instead of understanding the combined statement as a figure of speech, they were forced to take him literally, and couldn’t grasp why Jesus needed to travel all the way to Bethany just to wake Lazarus from a nap.
Even when Jesus patiently clarified what he meant, they still seemed to have trouble putting it together. First, even though Luke’s Gospel tells us they had twice previously witnessed Jesus bring someone back to life, it certainly wasn’t an everyday occurrence, and they likely struggled to believe he could do it after so much time had passed. And second, they must have been taken aback when he said he was happy about all this for their sakes because it would cause their faith to grow. What about the suffering of Lazarus and his sisters? He seemed to be saying this was a good thing.
But the rest of this story makes it very clear that Jesus wasn’t being unloving or insensitive. He was deeply moved by the profound suffering of his friends. But he was trying to help his disciples grasp the truth that sometimes God must allow us to experience a rough road on the way to a glorious destination when there’s no other route available.
Although from everything the Bible reveals about the nature of God, we can be confident he didn’t cause Lazarus’s sickness or death, it’s clear from the text that Jesus did allow it. But there’s a profound difference between causing and allowing. And this episode reveals that sometimes it’s just not possible for us to grasp from our limited perspective the wonderful things our unlimited God is up to in the midst of a challenging circumstance.
That can be a hard thing for us to admit. We give ourselves way too much credit. We like to think that the comprehension issue is never our fault. If God would just make himself clear, we’d certainly be able to understand. But this passage illustrates that that’s just not the case and beckons us to exercise more humility. It invites us to become more comfortable trusting the love and wisdom of our good God than insisting we understand.
In fact, I seem to remember a verse about that. Proverbs 3:5 says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding.”
Jesus had just received word that his friend, Lazarus, was gravely ill. But instead of setting out at once for the town of Bethany to be with him and his sisters in their time of need, he remained where he was.
Bethany was in the region of Judea and a suburb of Jerusalem where the religious elite had just recently tried to kill him on two separate occasions. So, his disciples must have assumed that his choice not to go was based on concern for his safety. But then, after two days, John 11:7 says he abruptly announced he was going after all and invited them to come along.
This obviously took them by surprise, and in verse 8, they questioned him about the wisdom of putting himself in harm’s way. But his answer in verses 9 and 10 made it clear the decision to not go sooner wasn’t made on the basis of fear.
He had twice previously (John 8:12 and 9:5) said he was “the light of the world.” So, they would have understood what he meant when, speaking metaphorically, he explained that if you keep your gaze fixed on the “light of this world,” you can boldly walk without being afraid of stumbling. He said it’s only the spiritually nocturnal – those who stick to the shadows – that have to worry about getting tripped up.
Let’s stop and consider the importance of these statements because a lot of us deal with fear. It takes many forms: fear of failure, fear of change, fear of heights, fear of flying, fear of spiders, fear of needles, fear of the future, fear of the dark, fear of missing out, etc. And although there’s probably not a technical term for it, early in my adulthood I experienced the sudden onset of a terrifying fear of being over water on a bridge.
My wife and I had just moved to the San Francisco area to join the pastoral staff of a new church, and some friends had come to visit. We took them to see the Golden Gate Bridge, and it was such a beautiful day, we decided to join a crowd of tourists and walk the span.
Everything was going well until we reached the point beyond the city-side anchorage where the bridge structure is suspended over the waters of the bay. Then suddenly, I had a panic attack, fell to my knees, and had to crawl back to where I felt safe. My reaction took me completely by surprise and was extremely embarrassing.
I’d crossed many bridges in my life to that point without ever experiencing an ounce of fear. But at that moment, I was truly terrified. And from that point on, crossing bridges over water became a serious issue for me made worse by the fact that God had called me to serve his church in a region connected by a network of them.
I tried avoidance, but that just wasn’t feasible in the Bay Area and didn’t work anyway. So, as an intelligent person who knew my anxiety was completely irrational, I tried reasoning with myself. But that didn’t work either. So, I decided to just give it time thinking it would eventually pass. It didn’t, and I finally came to terms with the fact that this was really a spiritual issue.
There are certainly rational fears that help protect us from harm. But irrational, constraining, and debilitating fears are not from God and keep us from experiencing life as he intends. In fact, 2 Timothy 1:7 says, “…God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.” And Romans 8:15 tells us we “…did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but…the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, ‘Abba [or daddy], Father.’"
Both passages reveal that there’s a demonic personality at work behind our phobias but that it can be overcome by the powerfully liberating work of the Holy Spirit. And it’s clear from what Jesus told his disciples that fixing your gaze intently on him is what releases the Spirit to dispel our fears.
Once I understood this, every time I crossed a bridge, I would prayerfully look straight ahead as though I was literally focusing on the Lord, and found myself stepping out of the darkness of fear into the light of the power of the Spirit. And soon, I was completely free.
Are you being exploited by a spirit of fear? Stop stumbling in the shadows it produces and choose instead to step out into the sure footing of the light of Jesus. He’s ready if you are.
Recently, one of my lifelong and best friends passed into eternity. By the time the cancer was discovered, he was diagnosed as terminal. When we spoke by phone, he invited me to join him in prayer for a miraculous healing, and he told me something I’ll never forget. He said he was in “a win-win situation.”
That unexpected statement startled me, and I was unsure how to respond at first. But as I considered it, I began to understand what he meant. My friend was referring to a joyous juxtaposition. His was the privilege of looking forward with glad anticipation to either the blessing of a miraculous healing or the even greater thrill of entering the eternal presence of his Savior.
It wasn’t a fatalistic expression of unbelief. He was describing the powerfully soul-securing state of every believer encountering life’s challenges. We are never victims at the mercy of our circumstances. We are victors in Christ no matter the outcome. His cross and resurrection have so completely overcome the dark intentions of any strategy of hell formed against us that we are always in “a win-win situation.” And although the circumstances we face are not always a matter of life and death, God’s will and ways can always be fully trusted without fear. That’s the glory behind 1 Corinthians 15:54: “Death is swallowed up in victory.”
And that truth connects directly to the amazing events described in John 11 which opens with an introduction to a set of siblings – Lazarus and his two sisters, Mary and Martha. This trio was new to John’s Gospel but not to his audience. Those early believers would’ve already been aware of them through both oral accounts and earlier-written Gospels. That’s why in verse 2 he could identify this Mary as the one who anointed the Lord with fragrant oil taking for granted his readers were aware of that event even though he hadn’t recounted that part of the story yet.
Although we’re not given the backstory, it’s clear that this family enjoyed a close relationship with Jesus. So, when Lazarus became seriously ill, his sisters sent word to let him know, indirectly pleading with him, on the basis of their friendship, to come and heal their brother. The response Jesus sent back in verse 4 assured them that this sickness would not result in death and that God would be glorified through it.
Then, we’re told something so striking that every time I read this passage I pause, shake my head, and contemplate its impact. Verses 5 and 6 state that because Jesus loved Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, he remained where he was for two more days.
This is completely unexpected. I always come to this section subconsciously anticipating it will say that because he loved them, he rushed to gather his belongings and raced to be with them in their time of need. But that’s not what happened. And although there is much more to come in this amazing and miraculous episode, let’s not miss the fact that it began with what seemed for all the world to be a heartless lack of action by the Savior.
I know what that feels like. There have been several times in my life when it seemed that God was unresponsive to my needs and I’d been left to wonder if he really loved me after all. And I’ll bet you’ve been there too. Maybe you’re there right now. If so, please let me encourage you that no matter what it may have seemed like at the moment of my disappointment when Jesus wasn’t responding in the way I’d hoped, he’s always proven himself loving, faithful, and powerful on my behalf in the end even when things turned out differently than I expected. Rest assured, that will be true for you as well. As followers of Christ, secure in his love and power, we are always in a “win-win situation.”
Recently, another very prominent Christian leader was discovered to be involved in a sex scandal. And it broke my heart, as this kind of thing always does, not only for the damage to his life, his family, and his reputation, but for the wider fallout that affects all those in the circle of his influence. There is no private sin. When what we do fails to match what we say, it always wounds others and discredits our testimony.
But none of us is perfect. So, I’m grateful that Ephesians 4:8-9 states emphatically that salvation is a gift from God received by faith and not based on our works. God’s grace to forgive can never be overwhelmed by our failures.
But James 2:17 says that faith without works is dead. In other words, true faith is always a claim confirmed by action. And that truth challenges us to freshly consider whether our deeds confirm our declarations.
The final dozen verses of the tenth chapter of John describe Jesus purposefully drawing attention to his works.
The Pharisees were in the act of picking up rocks to stone him to death when – with biting sarcasm – Jesus asked which of his good works they were about to kill him for. Was it feeding the hungry, freeing spiritual captives, embracing outcasts, healing the sick? But they said the issue wasn’t his works. It was his claim. By claiming to be the Son of God he was guilty of blasphemy and deserved to die according to their law.
In response, he reminded them of Psalm 82 where God rebuked those who’d received a commission to serve as judges. They’d betrayed that calling by favoring the wicked instead of defending the poor, the fatherless, the afflicted, and the needy. Still, God (with an upper case “G”) referred to them as gods (with a lower case “g”). So, Jesus asked why it should be considered blasphemy to refer to himself as the Son of God, when he was the one sent by the Father to redeem their failures?
When the Pharisees had no answer, he corrected the basis of their indictment by pointing out that it really was about his works. If his works didn’t back it up, his claim was meaningless.
This only fanned the flames of their fury, and they tried to arrest him. But he escaped to a place along the Jordan River where John the Baptist had conducted his ministry. And we’re told that many people came to him there and confessed their faith in him specifically because John’s claims about him had been confirmed by his works.
It’s clear from this passage that there’s an important connection between claims and works, words and deeds, rhetoric and action. The significance of this relationship is at the heart of sayings like, “practice what you preach,” “actions speak louder than words,” and “if you’re going to talk the talk, you’ve got to walk the walk.”
Do our works align with our testimony? I believe this critical question needs to be asked and answered daily by all of us who claim to be Jesus-followers.
But I confess, most days, I’d rather avoid it. I don’t want to have to admit that I often don’t live my faith as fully as I’d like. Perhaps that’s true for you too. But if so, there’s good news for both of us.
In Acts 1:8, Jesus said the Holy Spirit would empower us to be his witnesses – to live as his representatives in this world. That means that when our works don’t match our claim, the story isn’t over and we’re not on our own to rewrite it. With humility and repentance, if we regularly and prayerfully welcome the Spirit’s transforming work in our lives, he has the power to enable us to “walk the talk.”
John chapter 10 verses 24-30 describe Jesus being ambushed by the Jewish leaders demanding he plainly answer the question of his messiahship. He responded by saying he’d already been as clear as possible on the subject both with words and with miraculous deeds. He told them the problem was not a lack of HIS clarity but a lack of THEIR faith. They were simply choosing not to believe the obvious and there was nothing he could do to change that. No amount of verbal debate or physical evidence can change a closed mind.
How sad to think that these men could be face-to-face with the Son of God and remain blind to that truth by choice, oblivious to his divinity not because they hadn’t seen or heard, but because they’d refused to acknowledge what they’d seen and heard.
But the Lord went on to say there are those of us he refers to as, “my sheep,” who choose to hear his message and act on it in faith by becoming his followers. And to us, he said he gives the twin promises of life in the hereafter and security in the here and now. He declared we will have eternal life and experience it within the safety of his protective grasp, a refuge beyond the reach of any attempt to separate us from him.
That powerful statement deserves to be rejoiced in, highlighted, bookmarked, and committed to memory. No one can “snatch” us from his hand. He will never let go of us.
The problem is…that doesn’t prevent us from letting go of him.
I took one of my young grandsons with me to the store the other day. As we made our way through the parking lot, I held his hand to ensure his safety. And as we walked, I could feel his grip. He was holding on to my hand too. The sensation was a heartwarming affirmation of his trust, but it was more than that. It was what made it possible for me to protect him. If he’d let go of me, pulled away, and insisted on going off on his own, he would have exposed himself to unanticipated dangers, and it would have been nearly impossible for me to keep him secure.
And that can happen in our relationship with Jesus if we in pride conclude we don’t need him or in fear assume we can’t trust him and then choose to loosen our grip on him. His promises remain, but we are in jeopardy of removing ourselves from their fulfillment and becoming spiritually vulnerable. And the devil is always ready to exploit that vulnerability to pry our souls loose from their resting place within the Savior’s hand.
The beautiful thing is you don’t have to enable that strategy. If for any reason it seems the strength of your hold on Jesus has weakened, his on you is powerful. Press into it. Right now determine with fresh commitment to hold tightly to him in faith and firmly keep your hand in his.
I believe what the Bible says of itself, that it is God speaking to us. And because I’m convinced the Almighty is never superfluous, I find myself drawn with curiosity to passages containing words that don’t at first glance seem necessary. Over the years, I’ve learned that these are usually designed to attract our attention and reveal rich meaning when carefully considered.
John 10:22 and 23 contain one of these. They open a section describing a confrontation of Jesus by the Jewish leaders that took place about two and a half months after his parable of the Good Shepherd. They provide us with the time of year, location, reason for his being there, and a description of the weather. That’s the one that gets me. Why do we need to know what the weather was like?
I’ll come back to that in a minute, but first let’s note that this showdown took place in Solomon’s porch, a covered, outer corridor on the east side of the temple complex. But it would also become the meeting hall of the first Christians following the birth of the church on the Day of Pentecost. And I think it’s super cool to contemplate that Jesus would so thoroughly triumph over his opposition that this location where the Jewish elite tried to rhetorically and literally ambush him would become the fountainhead of his gospel’s global triumph as his followers took the good news from there to the ends of the earth.
The text also informs us that this event occurred during the Feast of Dedication which was celebrated in mid-December. That lets us know when Jesus was there, but it also explains part of the reason why. This feast was an annual commemoration of the cleansing of the temple by the Maccabees in 167 B.C. and the restoration of worship there after it had been very purposefully desecrated by Antiochus Epiphanes. It was an event worth celebrating for sure, but this was not one of the feasts prescribed by God in the Old Testament and requiring a Jerusalem pilgrimage. So why did Jesus visit the temple during that time and why is his attendance noted?
I think he was using the occasion of this celebration of temple-cleansing as a not-so-subtle announcement that he would soon be offering his life’s blood as the ultimate agent of cleansing for all the ways sin has desecrated our lives so that he could make it possible for us to become temples of the Holy Spirit as described in 1 Corinthians 6:19.
And that brings me back to the weather report.
The fixed date of the Feast of Dedication already established the time of year as the month of December, so why add the phrase, “it was winter,” unless God wanted us to notice something else?
The Greek word translated as “winter” here literally means storm or tempest. So, the Bible is calling attention to the fact that Jesus had entered Jerusalem that day during a rainstorm. I’m sure you’ve noticed that good novelists often set the mood for dark scenes in their stories by using vivid descriptions of bad weather. And although I’m certainly not equating this passage from the Gospel of John with a work of fiction, I do think God has included this phrase to evoke a feeling.
As Jesus’ earthly ministry was about to enter its final months, I think God intended us to engage our spiritual imaginations at this point by visualizing him in an open portico, exposed to a cold rain, bracing for another round of harassment by the religious elite, but advancing steadily toward the cross.
It’s way too easy to read the Bible dispassionately like a textbook. But this simple phrase calls to us, inviting us to reconnect with the narrative in a deeper, more emotional way and to feel something we may have lost touch with – gratitude.
As we read the account of our savior moving through the gathering spiritual storm toward our redemption, let’s not forget that although fully God, he was also truly human and experiencing all of this from that perspective. And let’s allow this simple image of Jesus in the rain to fill our hearts with renewed reverence and grateful worship.
John 10:17-21 • Authority Under
John 10:17-21 contains the closing stanza of Jesus’ shepherd parable and the response to it by the religious elite.
Having earlier described himself as the Good Shepherd who lays his life down for the sheep, Jesus said he does so as an expression of his power, a translation of a Greek word used in the original text which means having authority to act. He acknowledged his awareness of the Jewish leaders’ plan to kill him that continued percolating in the background, and he declared that when the time finally came, his life would not be taken in weakness but freely given as an exercise of his authority. He said the use of his power in this way was commanded by and pleasing to the Heavenly Father.
That completely baffled the Pharisees. It was simply unheard of that someone would use their power to serve others. In their experience, leaders gained and exercised power over others for their own benefit. Jesus had expressed a concept so foreign to them that they began to debate among themselves whether he was demon-possessed and insane.
But some of them had trouble accepting that explanation because they’d just witnessed a display of that kind of authority when Jesus healed the blind man on the previous sabbath. He had used his power to bless the man with sight and then didn’t even stick around to get the credit. He had nothing to gain and much to potentially lose by breaking sabbath restrictions to minister to him. But he did it anyway.
And that’s the very definition of authority in God’s dictionary – humbly employing every right, advantage, position, gifting, influence, mastery, skill, insight, prestige, sway, strength, prerogative, license, clout, and esteem we possess in the service of others no matter the cost. As his children, we have been given the privilege and responsibility of modeling a different way to be powerful.
But it turns out that’s easier said than done. We often appear to be just as enamored with the idea of hierarchical positions of power as anyone else. That’s why in Matthew 20:25-28, Jesus responded to the request of two of his disciples that they be given positions of power in his kingdom saying:
"You know that the rulers of the Gentiles…exercise authority over them. Yet it shall not be so among you; but whoever desires to become great among you, let him be your servant…just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many."
He taught us by his words and his life that the righteous way of expressing power is not from a position above others but from beneath them, lifting them up instead of pressing them down, not an authority over but an authority under.
And our world is in desperate need of that example right now. Our institutions – commercial, political, social, educational, judicial, relational – are all engaged in a fierce wrestling match over the questions of who should have power and how it should be used.
My friends in the faith, let’s rise to the challenge, or should I say bend beneath it. Instead of joining the world in striving to get to the top, let’s race each other to the bottom. Let’s put the power of our God on display by shouldering the weight of the burdens that don’t belong to us but are ours to bear as we serve others in his mighty name.
“There will be one flock.”
That statement by Jesus recorded in John 10:16 as part of the summation of his shepherd parable would have been shocking to his audience of Jewish religious leaders. They would have interpreted his teaching through the lens of their Hebrew-centric paradigm. So, they would have been blindsided when he said that his flock will include sheep “which are not of this fold.” And because they were likely in the temple when they heard this, his use of the word, fold – which literally means, court – would have suddenly taken on special significance.
The Jerusalem temple complex was designed as a series of courts progressing inward toward the Holy of Holies. Non-Jews were restricted – under threat of the death penalty, by the way – to the outermost of these called the Court of the Gentiles. Jesus was likely addressing his parable to the religious elite within one of the inner courts, and the symbolism would have been hard for them to miss.
He was symbolically if not literally pointing toward that outer court of people they treated with contempt when he announced that his flock would include the excluded. And he was emphatic that their inclusion would not be as an underclass. They would be equally integrated, fully assimilated.
“There will be one flock.”
They shouldn’t have been surprised by this, because of course, this had been God’s plan from the beginning. From the moment he set apart Abraham and his descendants as his chosen people, the Lord made clear his intention was to introduce himself and his blessings to the whole world through them. In fact, the prophet, Isaiah, specifically said that the Messiah would be a “light to the Gentiles” (Isaiah 42:6; 49:6).
So, Jesus was simply announcing that he was fulfilling this divine plan. His message or good news was gloriously inclusive. The most quoted verse in the New Testament is John 3:16 where he declared a whoever-gospel. He said eternal life is available to anyone who places their faith in him, and that had to mean regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, or personal history.
“There will be one flock.”
So why do we as Jesus’ followers have such a hard time with this? Martin Luther King, Jr. once said, “…the most segregated hour…is eleven o'clock on Sunday morning.” And he was talking about the ways that Christians tend to splinter into groups of affinity – including race – when we gather to worship.
But my question is not really about that. I understand people naturally like to hang out with others that have similar backgrounds and relate better to certain communication and music styles. I even celebrate the amazing variety of church ministry approaches around the world.
My concern is that we sometimes seem to allow our diversity to mask division and our preferences to mask prejudices. So, instead of displaying the unity of the Spirit, we often appear to reflect the fragmentation of the world. And when we do, we betray one of the most beautiful and foundational aspects of our faith.
“There will be one flock.”
I’ve recently spent time in prayer acknowledging and repenting the ways I’ve failed in this. And I’ve specifically invited the Holy Spirit to make any needed adjustments to my soul’s perspectives so that I can be part of the fulfillment of this aspect of his redemptive purposes. Would you be willing to join me? Perhaps together, with our hearts realigned to his values, we can better represent what he meant when he said…
“There will be one flock.”
As the shepherd parable recorded in John 10 neared its conclusion, Jesus uttered another one of the seven “I am” statements found in this Gospel. He twice identified himself as the good shepherd and described two specific ways he fulfills that role.
In verse 11, he said he gives his life for the sheep, considering them so valuable they’re worth sacrificing himself for. And in verse 14, he said he knows them, pursuing the kind of knowledge that’s more about relationship than information. In fact, in verse 15, Jesus described this knowing as the kind he experiences with the father. And he said it’s the reason he’s moved to lay his life down for us.
In verses 12 and 13, these two characteristics of the good shepherd are contrasted with those of a hireling – a rent-a-shepherd – one who prioritizes his own well-being over the flock’s and has no interest in developing a caring relationship with them. It’s certain the Lord meant this comparison to shine a harsh light on the self-serving “shepherding” practiced by the Pharisees, but I think he was also providing a way to identify any impostors among those who would seek to lead his people.
The Greek word translated as “shepherd” in this passage is the same word translated as “pastor” later in the New Testament and used to describe those who serve as leaders in the church. And as someone who’s had the privilege of ministering to others under that mantle for several decades now, the Lord’s example here is deeply moving to me and hits very close to home.
“Pastor” is not an honorific or a title of respect that precedes a church leader’s name. It’s not a station or position of achievement. It’s not a line item in the church budget under salaries. It’s not a sign on a door in the church office or on a reserved parking spot closest to the entrance. It’s most certainly not a career path. According to Jesus, it’s the description of someone who is so deeply invested in a relationship with God’s people that he or she is willing to live a life of sweeping personal sacrifice to support the spiritual wholeness of those in their care.
I want to make sure I never forget this exquisite definition our Lord gave. Even though all of us who take up the shepherd calling will fulfill it imperfectly, I want to keep looking to him as my example. I want to avoid any drift toward becoming part of a clergy class that’s enamored with attaining preference, celebrity, and recognition.
Even though Ephesians 4:11 tells us pastoral leaders are among the gifts Christ has given his church, verse 12 makes it clear that they’re not part of an elite group. In fact, their role is to help equip believers for their ministries. In a very real sense, every believer has been called and equipped by Jesus to shepherd those he’s placed in the circles of our influence whether it’s our family, friends, neighbors, and workmates or an entire church congregation. And we’ve been assigned to care for them in the way he cares for us.
We all need pastors like that, and we all need to become pastors like that.
So, even if what I just said scares you a little because you’re having trouble seeing yourself in that role right now, I encourage you to prayerfully welcome the good shepherd to identify the flock he’s given you and be willing to honor him by loving and serving them sacrificially.
John’s Gospel contains seven statements from Jesus that begin with, “I am.” They allow us to hear the Lord describe himself in his own words. And as the shepherd parable resumes in verses 7-10 of chapter 10, we encounter one of these self-descriptions when the Lord said, “I am the door.” And he used this image to illustrate another in the series of stark contrasts between the shepherd and the thief as he revealed the differences in their missions.
It’s obvious that Jesus cast himself as the shepherd in this story. And as the focus of his affectionate care, you and I are the sheep. But the metaphor of the thief is applied more broadly. It certainly includes the Pharisees and other Jewish religious leaders in the crowd he was addressing. But it also clearly points beyond them to anything or anyone opposed to the sheep, and by direct implication, refers to the devil, the enemy of God’s loving purposes for people.
Jesus said the thief’s strategy is to steal – attempt to plunder everything of God’s good intentions for us; to kill – deceive us into offering ourselves to be sacrificed to false gods such as materialism, pleasure, and power; and to destroy – not only extinguish our lives but scar them beyond recognition.
In contrast, Jesus said his mission is to give us life. And the Greek word translated here is extremely significant. It’s the word the New Testament uses for the kind of life God has. Jesus was plainly stating that he came to offer us something far more than just an extension or enhancement to the biological life we already have. His purpose is to escort us into the power-filled life of the spirit, and not just some limited, modified, or throttled version. He said he came to give it excessively, extravagantly, abundantly.
And that’s why viewing Jesus as a very specific kind of door is important. Counterintuitively, He identified himself as the door that provides safety by being open not closed.
As I record this, the whole world has been shut down for a few months due to a global pandemic. As a protection against a deadly virus, people everywhere have been confined to their homes, and we’re all starting to go a little stir-crazy. In fact, substance abuse, domestic violence, and suicides are up because living in fear behind a locked door isn’t healthy.
And contrary to what many think, the life Jesus offers is not one of confinement focused on keeping the thief out. It’s really the opposite of that. The Lord’s power to overcome any threat to us is so great that it renders that threat irrelevant. As a result, he’s able to offer us a life of true freedom unencumbered by the weight of fear so that we can come and go without concern.
This is not a denial of the very real and sinister strategy of the thief. It’s a description of a life so abundant with the riches of the shepherd’s love and power that the possibility of experiencing harm while in his care is simply meaningless.
He’s the open door swinging out as an invitation to explore the rich pastures of his limitless grace and swinging in to welcome us home to the comfort of the fold all within the security of his abiding presence. And offering that kind of life is why he came.
So, let him unlock the constraints of any fear that has imprisoned you in a small
Jesus' shepherd parable continues in verses 3-6 of John 10 where he defined another one of the severe contrasts between the shepherd and the thief who he also referred to as a stranger. He described it as a difference in how the sheep respond to their voices. He said the sheep follow the shepherd because they know his voice but refuse to follow a stranger because they don’t know his.
The Greek word used in the original text means to know from observation. It’s the kind of knowing you gain by witnessing something firsthand. In other words, Jesus was saying that the sheep experience something with the shepherd that causes them to want to become attentive to the sound of his voice. And he made it clear that that something is a genuine concern for their well-being.
He said sheep recoil from a stranger. They don’t trust him and have no incentive to develop a sensitivity to his voice because he hasn’t demonstrated any interest in their welfare.
On the other hand, Jesus said the shepherd personally escorts the sheep to pastures where they can feed in safety, not only cares for the flock but for each individual lamb, and calls them by a unique name he’s given each one.
Jesus clearly meant for us to understand that he’s the shepherd in this story and was illustrating the tenderness of his affectionate care for people. He was revealing his desire to invest in a relationship with each of us. And it’s that daily-demonstrated, individualized compassion that stirs our desire to know the sound of his voice – to hear and respond to it. We don’t want to miss a single word, especially when he lovingly calls us by name.
One of the great pleasures of retirement is that my wife and I no longer have to wake up to an alarm clock signaling that it’s time to get ready for work. But a few days ago, we needed to make sure we were on time to volunteer for the early-morning shift at a local food bank. So, as I climbed into bed the night before, I said, “Alexa, set an alarm for 7:00 tomorrow morning.” Our voice assistant responded to the audio waveform associated with that name and processed my request. Now, talking to a machine is still a little hard for me to get used to, but I remember thinking that even an inanimate piece of digital technology comes to life – so to speak – at the sound of its name.
We were meant to come alive at the sound of our shepherd’s voice as he calls to our souls with that exquisite waveform we recognize as uniquely ours. It lights us up in the spirit with the awareness that we’re deeply known and loved. Can you hear it? Let’s lean in and listen close so we can become increasingly sensitive and responsive to that glorious sound.
Let’s not be like the Pharisees described in the final verse of this passage. We’re told that the sweet intimacy Jesus was describing was such a foreign concept to them that it all went right over their heads. They just couldn’t comprehend a God like that. But this is the God we have. He’s our shepherd. His name is Jesus.
The first half of John 10 is most likely a continuation of the pointed rebuke of the Pharisees by Jesus that concluded the previous chapter. But when he used the phrase, “Most assuredly, I say to you," it meant he wanted even greater attention to be given to what would follow. And what follows is a lengthy parable about the shepherd and the sheep.
A parable isn’t a riddle. It’s not meant to hide meaning. It’s meant to reveal it. When Jesus used a parable, he was painting a word picture describing images and experiences that would be very familiar to his hearers and building a bridge of understanding from something they already knew well to something he wanted them to discover.
So, he used this beautiful shepherd/sheep illustration to describe the kind of relationship he wants to have with his followers. The passage is saturated with rich significance for every believer. And even though most of us today aren’t nearly as familiar with references to shepherding culture as his original audience, the heart of Jesus and the truths he conveyed easily bridge that gap.
The first two verses introduce the hero and the villain of the story and offer the first of several stark contrasts that are made between them. As the starting point of his parable, Jesus said the shepherd enters the sheepfold – an enclosure that provides safety for the sheep – through the door, but a thief tries to gain access by other means.
He was saying that anyone lurking in the shadows and attempting to infiltrate the security of the fold is a robber, someone intent on causing harm. And although he was clearly indicting the religious elite with this illustration, I think it’s also clear he meant for us to understand that anything seeking to breach the environment of our spiritual home is a serious threat.
A couple of days ago, I woke up in the middle of the night and noticed light from our side yard security lamp filtering in through our bedroom windows. It’s activated by a motion sensor. So, I knew something was moving out there. And although it was probably just a stray cat, it unnerved me because only unwelcomed guests seek to access a home by means other than the front door.
Is anything circling your heart’s defenses today in search of an unguarded way into that sacred space? What about fear, unforgiveness, guilt, pride, self-pity, lust, depression, anger, shame, or selfishness? These aren’t just stray cats. These are actual threats to your spiritual life. Don’t just lie there ignoring the light filtering in from your soul’s security lamp. The Holy Spirit may be alerting you to something moving out there that doesn’t belong, something the shepherd wants to protect you from if you’ll let him. But remember, he comes through the door. You’ll need to open it and invite him in.
We’ve all been given the freedom to try and deal with these intruders on our own, but in my experience, that doesn’t usually work out too well. On the other hand, I’ve noticed that when I stop pretending I can secure the premises of my inner life by myself and choose instead to welcome and respond to the shepherd’s powerful presence, I’m increasingly able to rest deeply in the safety of the fold.
I’m certainly not an expert on the subject, but I’ve read that because sheep are prey animals with little means for self-protection, their natural state is a hyper-vigilance that enables them to be ready to quickly respond to danger. But their well-being can be adversely affected by living with so much anxiety. So, shepherds work hard to help them be at peace.
And that’s what Jesus wants for each of his lambs. It’s what he wants for you. He’s ready if you are. Just open the door.
A man who'd been blind from birth received his sight when Jesus made mud from dust and spittle, smeared it over his sightless eyes, and sent him off to wash at a nearby pool. But the Lord had already moved on by the time he returned to thank him. So ironically, the man whose eyes had been miraculously opened didn’t get the chance to actually see the one who gave him that gift.
But John 9 verses 35-38 describe the very tender scene when the two of them met again.
It happened after the man had been excommunicated for boldly standing up to the Pharisees in defense of Jesus during the intense interrogation that followed his being healed on a Sabbath day. They cut him off from his family, community, and synagogue.
When the Lord heard what happened, he searched for, found, and revealed himself to him as the Son of God. And as the man’s newly opened eyes resolved the image of his healer and messiah, his grateful heart expressed itself with sweet faith and worship.
Then, in verses 39-41, Jesus brought the lesson of this whole episode into sharp focus. He said that he’d come into this world to give sight to those who desire to be healed of their spiritual blindness and to judge those who in their pride refuse to admit their need.
I know which group I want to be in, but I don’t think my membership can be taken for granted. Here’s why. Pride is the issue. And dealing with the relentless encroachment of that temptation is an ongoing process. Whenever I give place to it, I lose something of my spiritual visual acuity. And unless I take decisive repentant action, I incrementally drift back toward that pharisaical self-deception where I don’t realize how blind I’ve become.
For instance, the other day, my wife and I were watching an online church service, and I had already made three or four negative comments about the presentation’s mediocre production values before I realized how much pride had overtaken me. It had totally blinded me to the significance of what God was doing through that church’s efforts. Thankfully, the Holy Spirit’s conviction broke through, and as I confessed my sin, I could literally feel the eyes of my soul opening back up to the beauty of the heart of God on display in that program. It was as though a dark veil had lifted.
I hope this doesn’t sound presumptuous, but I’ll bet you’ve had similar experiences. If so, you’ll understand what I mean when I say I want to stay on guard against that kind of arrogance. 1 Timothy 3:6 tells us that when we become puffed up with pride, we’re guilty of the same sin as the devil. And I want to stay as far away from that as possible.
I know you do too. So, let’s heed the advice of Proverbs chapter 16. Just before telling us that “Pride goes before destruction,” it says, “The highway of the upright is to depart from evil.” Let’s strive, by the power of the Holy Spirit, to get on and travel that highway at top speed.
In John chapter 9 verses 24-34, the Pharisees continued their interrogation of the man who’d been healed of blindness. They were determined to find a way to turn this miraculous event into a means of condemning Jesus by twisting it into a Sabbath violation. But frustrated by their failure to discredit the man’s testimony or use it for their purposes, they reached a boiling point. Like a belligerent attorney in a courtroom drama, they demanded that he glorify God by finally telling the truth and admitting Jesus was a sinner.
Instead, he uttered the words that would inspire the most powerful line in the lyrics of one of the most recognized songs in the world, Amazing Grace. Staring directly into the teeth of the intimidating religious elite, he declared, “One thing I know: that though I was blind, now I see.”
Still, unwilling to give up their pursuit, the Pharisees decided to start over from the beginning. They commanded the man to tell them once again what Jesus had done and how he did it. But clearly wearied by this nonsense, he responded with a question of his own, one dripping with bold sarcasm. He asked them why they wanted him to repeat himself. Did they want to become followers of Jesus?
They reacted by reviling him – which literally means they stabbed him with words – and invoked the authority of Moses to try and pound him into submission. But this formerly blind beggar punched back by schooling them on the absurdity of their position.
They retaliated with a vulgar epithet and then ended the proceedings by excommunicating him.
Being shut out of his community by the Jewish authorities was a serious price to pay. But he did so without complaint, and he’s a hero in my book. Although he was the very definition of a nobody – we don’t even know his name – he stood his ground against an assault by the powerful and walked away with his spiritual integrity intact.
I want to be like him when I grow up.
But I’m embarrassed to admit how little it takes to intimidate me into spiritual compromise. Right now, the nations of the world are dealing with a health pandemic that has also created a global economic crisis. And the other day, I caught myself becoming anxious about how it will impact my personal finances.
Really? That’s all it took to cause me to discount the faithfulness of the God who has provided for me through my entire life? Instead of standing firm in the faith that as God has miraculously cared for me through many previous challenges and will not fail me now, I literally allowed fear to adjust my testimony. I began expressing my doubts to my wife.
But thankfully, I’m married to a woman of great faith. And her trust-filled reply – like a loving slap to the face – shook me from my compromise and steadied my shaky confession.
Can I pay it forward? Is the solid ground of your God-story beginning to sway under some form of spiritual assault? If so, please let me encourage you to remember the steady faith of the anonymous man in John chapter 9. And may that reminder serve to reestablish the solid footing of your trust in the one who cannot fail.
In John chapter 9 verses 18-23, the proxy trial of Jesus for healing a blind man on the Sabbath moved into a new phase. The Pharisees decided to subpoena the testimony of the man’s parents to determine whether his story was true.
They asked them to substantiate his identity by confirming whether he was really their son, and if so, to corroborate his healing claim by verifying he’d been blind since birth. And finally, assuming they could affirm all this, they wanted them to explain how he’d gained his sight.
His parents assured them he was their son and that until now he’d been blind his entire life. But they claimed to have no answer for how this dramatic change occurred or who may have been involved.
Although it’s likely their son had shared the story of his healing with them, it appears they weren’t on scene for the actual event. So, since they weren’t eyewitnesses, they possessed plausible deniability and chose to exercise it. They refused to even offer an opinion. And we’re told why. They were afraid.
The Jewish elite had agreed that anyone confessing Jesus was the Messiah would be excommunicated. That meant they’d be cut off from the worship life of the synagogue and excluded from all interaction with their family and fellow Israelites. It was an extremely severe punishment known as the curse. And the threat of this loss of belonging was being used as religious intimidation.
Those are two words that never belong in the same sentence.
But first century Pharisees aren’t the only ones in positions of spiritual authority who’ve acted in ways that have left vulnerable people traumatized. And it deeply grieves me to consider how the Christian church and its leaders have at times also been guilty of wounding the people we've been called to serve.
For example, twice in the years of my ministry I was called on to lead a congregation through the aftermath of a previous pastor’s moral failure. And both times it was a heartbreaking challenge to wade into the pain, anger, distrust, and fear left behind in the hearts of precious people Jesus died for to try and minister his healing love to them.
Emotional wounds sustained in the context of one’s faith in God afflict the deepest part of the soul. Sadly, many people carry this type of pain. There’s even a term for it, church hurt.
Some of those who bear these scars have left the faith altogether. Others are like walking-wounded. They remain in our churches but feel distant from God and deal with trust issues that hinder their relationships with leaders and keep them from the rich fellowship with other believers we all need.
If that sounds familiar, if you’ve experienced any form of church hurt, my heart breaks for you. More importantly, God’s does. And I urge you to not allow the scars you’ve sustained to define either your relationship with him or his people. I encourage you to bring your pain to him and not allow it to keep you from him. Pause right now and let him draw you close. I assure you he’s able to heal your wounds and restore the kind of secure, loving connection with his church you long for.
In 2013, my wife was diagnosed – based on the results of two surgeries, a panoply of tests, and two different types of imaging – with stage-four, untreatable, incurable, and terminal cancer. But during a third surgery performed for the purpose of debulking the cancer to provide a short extension to her life, no trace of the lesions could be found. And her scans have been completely clear ever since.
The medical community can often be quite skeptical of divine healing. But the force of my wife’s miraculous story has left many among them literally speechless and shaking their heads.
A testimony is a powerful thing.
John 9:13 opens the description of what followed Jesus’ healing of the man who’d been blind from birth. When people heard that this miracle involved Jesus making mud on the Sabbath, they brought the healed man to the Pharisees. They knew there was going to be trouble, and they wanted to make sure they weren’t in the line of fire when the religious stuff started to hit the fan.
Among other things, the Pharisees were a kind of self-appointed Sabbath-police and part of a religious system that had turned a blessing from God – a one-in-seven day of rest – into a ritualistic nightmare. And they’d already determined that Jesus should get the death penalty for a previous Sabbath infringement when he healed the lame man at the pool of Bethesda. So, they were chomping at the bit to investigate this current violation.
But they ran into a problem. The man they set out to intimidate with their interrogation – who just minutes before would have been disregarded by them as nothing more than a blind beggar – proved to be unshakable because of the power of his testimony.
Verses 14-16 describe the beginnings of what would become a proxy trial of Jesus and reveal the impotence of pride and doubt to ultimately resist the story of a life impacted by him. Even before the proceedings really got rolling, cracks began to form in the solidarity of the Pharisees. This formerly blind man’s opening statement of the simple facts was so powerful that it caused some of them to begin reconsidering their negative perceptions of Jesus.
The impact of this used-to-be-blind man on some of the Pharisees wasn’t the result of a well-crafted theological argument. In fact, in verse 17, when the man was asked his opinion about Jesus, the gaps in his still-developing Christology were revealed when he described him as a prophet not as Messiah. He didn’t have all the answers yet, but he did have a story.
Let me repeat myself. A testimony is powerful thing. And if you’re a Christ-follower, your testimony is a powerful thing. It may not include a dramatic physical healing. But the impact of Jesus’ touch on your life and the progressive healing he’s daily producing in your soul as you pursue him in faith is incredibly potent and cannot be disputed. It’s your story.
Remember that the next time life challenges your faith like a group of Pharisees sitting in judgement. You have a testimony that’s unshakable because it’s rooted in the one who’s immovable.
The way we perceive things depends on our perspective. For instance, if someone believes that donuts are unhealthy, then that perspective will color the way they perceive donut shops. They will be more likely to view them with disdain. On the other hand, if a person thinks of donuts as a delightful treat, they will probably be seen smiling broadly when a new shop opens in the neighborhood.
Now, I don’t mean to trivialize the point, but the opening five verses of John chapter 9 demonstrate this principle in a profound way.
The chapter opens with Jesus on the move after escaping an attempt on his life and tells us he saw a man who’d been blind from birth. That word, saw, means more than just the casual result of human eyesight. It’s translated from a word meaning, to know by perception. And the following passage reveals that Jesus perceived him differently than the disciples did because he viewed him from a different perspective.
They viewed him from a punishment perspective. They believed the bad things people experience in life are the consequences of the wrong they’ve personally done. So, they assumed the man’s blindness was the result of some specific sin, and they asked Jesus to explain who was at fault, the man or his parents.
The Lord’s answer in verse 3 must have surprised them. He said that neither the man nor his parents had sinned. But he wasn’t saying they weren’t sinners. He was trying to explain that the brokenness in the world is caused by every one of us. We’re all sinners and are all responsible for the horrors we’ve unleashed.
He wasn’t excusing anybody for their sin or it’s fruit, but he was introducing a better perspective. Focusing on cause and effect results in seeing ourselves and others through the lens of blame, judgment, guilt, and fear. Instead of perceiving the man’s blindness as punishment, Jesus was introducing a change in perspective that would allow them to view it as an opportunity for the works of God to be revealed.
If we all experienced that dramatic change, it would result in a different way of responding to need. If our default response was to see it as an opportunity to invite God to show up instead of looking for fault, we would experience more of his power breaking through in our challenging circumstances. And that’s what the rest of John 9 describes – the miraculous healing and salvation of a man who had been blind his whole life.
In verses 4 and 5 the Lord said the light of his presence transforms each day into a time for displays of the works of God. And although he also said a time of darkness would come – clearly referring to his crucifixion – he didn’t mean the time of his power-working would end. The resurrection resulted in the dawning of a whole new day of the miraculous.
So, instead of looking for fault today, let’s welcome the Lord to change our perspective that we might perceive the needs around us as opportunities for the works of God to be revealed.
The eighth chapter of John’s Gospel begins and ends with the Jewish elite wanting to throw stones. They came after the adulteress first, and Jesus was able to skillfully diffuse that situation. But then, after spending the rest of the chapter unsuccessfully arguing against his claim to be the son of God, they became so frustrated they prepared to heave rocks at him instead.
They couldn’t tolerate a sinner or a savior. Their perverted religious system had become all about attaining and preserving positions of spiritual privilege. They couldn’t afford to offer grace to the woman without exposing their own sin, and they couldn’t acknowledge Jesus to be their Messiah without humbling themselves. Ultimately, that was the issue. Jesus was a threat to their self-righteousness and sense of religious entitlement.
In verses 56 through 59, the Lord brought the chapter-long debate regarding his divinity and their descendancy from Abraham to a close with a dramatic statement. It was an absolute mic drop. He said, “…before Abraham was, I AM.” And at that point, they started grabbing stones and would have tried to silence him with death had he not hid himself and escaped.
They understood what he meant. I AM was the name God used to describe himself to Moses at the burning bush. By adopting that sacred name and claiming to exist before Abraham existed, he was declaring his divinity with emphatic clarity. And it completely undermined the foundations of their religious regime.
For us, it’s just the opposite. Our faith has power precisely because Jesus is God in flesh. The cross has no meaning apart from the fact that the penalty for our sins was paid there by the sinless Messiah.
And because he’s the eternal one without beginning or end, it also means that he IS in my WAS – redeeming my past – gathering up the debris of my broken history and creating from its fragments a work of art. He IS in my WILL BE – shaping my future – making a way forward from the barren desert of my own making into the lush landscape of his fulfilled promises. And he IS in my AM – moving in my present – infusing this very moment with the sweetness of his undeserved grace.
There’s so much power and promise in what Jesus said about himself in this passage. But it may be that you haven’t yet been able to rest in its truth. If not, please hear my heart. The time has come. Let the mic drop.
When my wife and I moved to the Los Angeles area, I began power walking down to the Manhattan Beach pier on most days. That’s a three-mile round trip from our home and involves climbing several steep hills.
At first, the trek was quite taxing, and I couldn’t imagine going any farther. In my mind, I saw that pier as my terminus, the point where I had to turn back if I was going to have the energy to make it home. But an interesting thing happened. Over time, as my fitness increased, I began to see beyond the pier. I found myself able to walk farther along the beach before heading back. And now, I no longer see that pier as the end of my route. It’s just a landmark on a longer journey.
As a Jesus-follower, a similar thing happened regarding how I see death. Because of the grace of Christ, I no longer view it as the end of my life. It doesn’t mark the conclusion of my hopes, dreams, expectations, and desires. It’s just a milestone I will pass along my eternal journey. And that’s what Jesus was referring to in John chapter 8 verse 51.
He was continuing his response to a verbal assault from the religious leaders. He told them that anyone who keeps his word will not see death. And I’d like to stop and consider the three key words in that statement: anyone, keep, and see.
First, take note that he addressed the promise to anyone. And that had to include the Jewish leaders he was addressing and had just accused of seeking to kill him. Imagine that! Even after exposing their hatred toward him, he still offered them a pathway to the grace of God. And if that’s true, then his invitation clearly extends to every one of us.
Second, this promise is available to those who keep his word. Jesus was clarifying that there’s a difference between those who receive his message and those who keep it, between those who hear it and those who hold on to it. It’s not enough to just be acquainted with it, we need to embrace it.
And finally, he said those who do will not see death. It’s clear from the following verses (52-55) where he ceded the point that Abraham and the prophets have all died, that he wasn’t saying his followers wouldn’t die physically. Instead, he was promising that they would no longer see death in the same way. They would view their lives as extending beyond it into eternity. Instead of marking life’s final boundary, it would be seen as merely a mile-marker along a wondrous journey in relationship with him toward an infinite horizon.
Hebrews chapter 2 verse 15 tells us that part of the victory of Christ’s cross was the release of all those who have been bound by a fear of death. Jesus has defeated it on our behalf and made it possible for us to see beyond it and experience the security that comes from knowing the journey continues.
Through faith in Jesus, we can all find rest in the peace of that promise right now.
As a kid, I learned to repeat this little schoolyard rhyme as a means of countering the verbal cruelty of other children: “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” Sadly though, it didn’t take long before I discovered that words could cause pain, and the wounds they inflict can be deep and lasting.
Have you ever been subjected to verbal abuse? Jesus has. And one of those occasions is found in John chapter 8 verse 48 where the religious elite – having been stung by what Jesus exposed about them in the preceding passage – struck back with name-calling and a false accusation. They labeled him a Samaritan and accused him of being demon-possessed.
The Jews held the Samaritans in deep disgust. They considered them interlopers, half-breeds, perverters of the sacred faith, and more. They knew that Jesus wasn’t ethnically a Samaritan, but they used that term as a slur meant to carry a heavy payload of defamation. And by also describing him as demonized, they sought to discredit him along with his very-public exposure of their wicked hearts.
They did what insecure bullies do when their masks are pulled down and their vulnerabilities are exposed. Instead of responding with humility and repentance, they punched back and with as low a blow as possible. And if you’ve ever been on the receiving end of that kind of attack and have the scars to show for it, paying close attention to how the Lord reacted in verses 49 and 50 may provide you some much-needed wisdom, perspective, comfort, and healing.
First, he didn’t respond to the name-calling. I know it’s hard to resist, but it’s almost impossible to win a war of verbal mudslinging. And if you do, the battle fatigue and shame you experience afterward usually exact a heavy emotional and spiritual toll. It’s best to follow Jesus’ example and deprive the attack of any traction by just ignoring it.
Second, he made the choice to remain focused on honoring his father instead of defending himself against their slander. He simply made a straightforward statement rejecting their accusation and then refused to become distracted by it. He trusted God with the promotion and defense of his reputation. And when we follow in his footsteps, we discover that the Heavenly Father is faithful to do the same for us.
We live in a world filled with spite, prejudice, malice, and just plain old meanness. And it’s impossible to avoid being the target of some of it. But Jesus taught us how to keep from becoming what I call prickly – always in a defensive posture when it comes to how others perceive us. Owning the responsibility for bearing the burden of retaliating when we’re slighted, mocked, denigrated, or maligned usually results in a life stained with bitterness, exhaustion, and isolation. How much better to run to the refuge of the one who daily honors us with his love and provides a shelter of absolute security against any sticks, stones, or words.
So, let’s meet him there today. And from within the safety of his strong embrace, let’s stay focused on bringing honor to him by the way we release with forgiveness all those who’ve hurt us and trust him to promote and defend our reputations.
I have often been struck by the deep need people have for assurance of belonging. And this is nowhere more evident than in the way we’re driven to locate ourselves and others within families. For instance, when a child is born, I’ve noticed that an immediate and almost involuntary search is engaged by people to identify and catalog the traits and characteristics that link the baby to his or her relatives. Evaluations are made about eye and hair color along with shape, size, and a multitude of other qualities that note similarities with parents and other members of their clan. And it always amazes me to observe the sweet peace that seems to settle over people when they’re able to rest in the confidence of the child’s connection to the tribe.
In the section of John chapter 8 bounded by verses 37 and 47, Jesus responded to the assertion by the Jewish leaders that they held a privileged connection to God. They laid claim to being Abraham’s descendants. But Jesus pushed back by saying if they really were, they wouldn’t be seeking to kill him. And when they responded by taking things a step further and insisting God was their father, Jesus strongly contradicted them and flatly stated that in fact the devil was.
That must have stung! But the Lord wasn’t just trying to antagonize them. He was pointing out that as surely as our physical characteristics connect us to our birth families, there are qualities that reveal our spiritual families as well. He said they had inherited their desire to kill him from Satan who was a murderer from the beginning. And he pointed out that their inability to perceive the truths he was teaching was because they were offspring of the father of lies.
But in this same passage, Jesus also pointed out two traits that are common among those who are part of God’s family. In verse 42, he said God’s children love Jesus. Then in verse 47, he said they also hear God’s words. And he wasn’t just referring to the vowels, consonants, and syllables. He meant the message the words convey.
The Lord was describing a couple of very key elements of family resemblance among his kids. And that makes me want to pause, look myself in the mirror, and sincerely ask, “Does my life bear the characteristics of the family of God? Do I evidence a sincere love of Jesus in the way I live, and am I quick, thorough, and joyful in the way I respond to what God has said?”
According to Jesus, these are the traits that settle the question of belonging. They bring into sharp focus what defines the only family relationship that ultimately matters.
And the most wonderful thing about this is that no matter what characteristics we’ve inherited from our physical families we all have the same opportunity to experience a new birth through faith in Christ, his cross, and resurrection that reshapes everything about us so that we can start to look more like our heavenly father.
It doesn’t happen overnight, but it does happen.
I was born with features that were noticeably similar to my dad’s. But with every stage of my physical growth, those similarities have become more pronounced. And in the same way, as we progress in a born-again relationship with God, our resemblance to him increases.
So, let’s make this our prayer: “Lord, may my love for Jesus and responsiveness to your message cause me to reflect your image into this world with increasing clarity today and every day that follows.”
John 8:30-36 • Free Indeed
Following our honeymoon back in the spring of 1974, Sue and I made a home together. Until then, we were building a relationship. After, we were living in one. And although aspects of the building process continue to this day, when we began living out our love under the same roof – abiding with each other – we began to discover the liberty that results from knowing and being known by someone in the context of loving intimacy. And that’s what calls to me from John 8:30-36.
It tells us that many of the Jewish bystanders overhearing Jesus’ clear, firm, direct, and poignant responses to their leaders in the preceding verses chose to place their faith in him as a result. And that isn’t surprising. The words of Jesus are always deeply compelling. But he challenged these new believers to become followers not simply fans. He invited those who’d been moved by what he’d said to become true disciples by living in his message. He welcomed them to abide in it – to linger, dwell, be present, and make their home within its depths.
And he went on to describe the powerful progression that results. He said that abiding results in knowing and knowing produces freedom.
From it’s opening verses, John’s Gospel has revealed Jesus to be the word of God made flesh – the message of God in person. So, abiding in it means much more than intellectually exploring a set of principles or philosophies. It means daily exposing your deepest self to the Lord’s influence. He said that exposure results in a type of knowledge that’s far more than just comprehension or understanding. The Greek word translated here as know describes a relationship, and not just with truth in the sense of ideas or concepts. In fact, in John 14:6, Jesus described himself as the truth.
When we live under the sway of the living word of God, our relationship with him becomes deeper, more intimate, more, well, personal. And Jesus was saying relationship with him is what produces true freedom in our lives.
That provoked a strong rebuttal from the religious leaders who shouldered their way back into the conversation at this point. They were offended that Jesus would insinuate they needed to be set free from anything. They claimed that as Abraham’s descendants they had never been in bondage.
This is both comic and tragic. It’s funny in the sense that they seem to have forgotten about the Jews’ long history of various periods of enslavement including the hundreds of years they were captives in Egypt not to mention their current status as subjects of Roman authority. The tragedy is, their insistence on a delusion of freedom kept them from being incented to pursue the real thing.
This is all too familiar. For most of us, our pride makes it very difficult to admit we could be bound by anything even though we are. And the Lord went on to explain how. He said that every time we sin – behave in ways that dishonor God, pollute ourselves, or hurt others – we demonstrate the depth of our bondage. Even though we’d like to think otherwise, our actions reveal that we are powerless against our own fallen natures.
But in verse 36, Jesus declared his authority as the Son of God to end our captivity and liberate us fully. When we walk the path that leads from believing on to abiding in and, ultimately, to experientially knowing the love of the one who is truth, the dark deceptions that grip us collapse and we experience true release.
What lie of Satan and/or prideful self-delusion constrains your life and holds you in a cycle of sin you can’t seem to escape? Jesus invites you to move beyond baseline belief and learn to abide in him so you can know the truth that will set you free…free indeed.
The religious leaders who dialogued with Jesus as well as the people who overheard those exchanges, just couldn’t seem to grasp what he’d said about his relationship with the Father. He’d made several attempts to explain that he’d been sent by God and was in all ways and at all times representing him. But their hardened and sin-scarred hearts were deaf to those truths. So, in verse 28 of John chapter 8, he lamented that they wouldn’t understand until after they’d lifted him up, or in other words, crucified him.
How sad that it would require the aftermath of his sacrifice to open their eyes to see who he was and why he’d come. But the reality is, much about Jesus can’t be fully grasped except in the light of the cross. That icon memorializes the loving Father and submitting Son settling the sin issue and purchasing our salvation. It possesses the power to penetrate our spiritual blindness and illuminate the magnitude of God’s gift of grace in Christ.
The cross defines God’s strategy and story of redemption as he purposefully pursued the rescue of our fallen race. It confirms the identity of the Seed of the woman described in Genesis 3:15 as the one who would crush the serpent’s head. It’s what elevates John 3:16 to towering heights as a majestic expression of God’s love. It’s what empowers the offer of complete forgiveness recorded in 1 John 1:9. And it’s the key that unlocks chains of bondage and sets free the souls of repentant sinners like me.
When viewed through its lens, the life, words, and ministry of Jesus come into a focus that ignites understanding, overwhelms with humility, releases faith, and inspires the kind of worship captured in these words penned in 1912 by the hymnist, George Bennard.
On a hill far away, stood an old rugged cross The emblem of suffering and shame And I love that old cross where the dearest and best For a world of lost sinners was slain
The cross of Christ stands forever as the unique and unparalleled symbol of a saving God. And if you, like me, stand today within its glow as a lost-one-now-found, let’s pause together at the foot of that beacon of hope and offer there our humble praise.
In John 8:26, Jesus followed up his response to the question posed by the religious elite in the previous verse about his identity. After making it clear he’d already said all that was necessary about himself, he commented that there was much more he could say about them. But he refrained from doing so and told them why. He said he would only speak what he heard his Father saying. He would go no further than the boundaries set by the one who sent him.
I wish I could say the same. More than once, I’ve found myself on the wrong side of a divinely-set boundary where I’ve said more than God is saying or done more than he’s doing. And every time I’ve trespassed beyond those thresholds, I’ve regretted it.
It’s like the time when I was a kid visiting a friend who lived on a large ranch out in the country. One day, he and I were shooting targets with small caliber rifles. Later that evening, my friend’s father was confronted by a group of angry men who showed up at the house. And we learned that our target practice had nearly cost them their lives. Unknown to us, they’d been pinned down by our fire after they’d crossed a posted boundary and trespassed onto the ranch. Their failure to recognize and respect that boundary created problems they couldn’t anticipate.
And that’s what happens when I fail to exercise Spirit-led restraint in my life. Whenever I choose to step anywhere but within my Lord’s footprints, I end up somewhere I shouldn’t be.
When I succumb to the temptation to believe that a situation is dependent on what I have to offer – my timing, my creativity, my words, my skill, my wisdom, or my passion – rather than trusting that God knows how to handle things, I’m in danger of crossing a line and creating unintended consequences.
If a musician in an orchestra plays notes the composer hasn’t written, the resulting sound is either inappropriately cluttered or distastefully discordant. I want to be careful to play only the music God is conducting. And I’ll bet you do to. So, let’s stop, take an honest look at ourselves, and make sure we aren’t improvising beyond the arrangement.
Let’s make fresh commitments today to follow our Savior’s example and be careful not to venture beyond the Father’s directions regarding what we say, to whom, and when as well as the actions we should or shouldn’t take in all the affairs of our lives.
Jesus had just warned the religious elite with hard truth about the spiritual dead end they were approaching because of their unwillingness to believe in him. Their response, recorded in John 8:25, came in the form of a question. “Who are you?” they asked. The Lord answered by referring them to the transcript of everything he’d been saying since he began his ministry. He’d already declared himself to be the bread of life, the light of the world, the Messiah, the Son of God. There really was nothing more to add.
This wasn’t the first time this question had been asked and answered. The problem wasn’t that they hadn’t heard, they just didn’t like what they heard.
And that reminds me of baseball. Don’t worry, I’m not losing my mind. Just let me explain.
I love baseball because it involves so much drama. Like pitch selection for example. With the batter standing in, the pitcher stares from the mound down the 60 feet to home plate and looks for a sign from the catcher indicating which pitch he should throw – fastball, sinker, slider, curveball, changeup, or cutter. But if he doesn’t like the signal, he’ll shake his head no and wait for another sign. This back-and-forth will continue until the pitcher gets the sign he wants. In a sense, he keeps asking the question until he gets the answer he’s looking for.
And I’ve caught myself doing that with God. Here’s an example:
Early in my adulthood I was asking God if I should leave Bible college to pursue music ministry full time, but he seemed silent on the subject. So, I decided to drop out of school, quit my job, and rehearse with my band anyway. And although I did spend a few years performing, touring, and recording, it just never seemed like God’s full blessing was on it.
The reality wasn’t that God hadn’t answered my prayer, I just didn’t like the answer he was giving. I didn’t hear him saying, “No,” because I was listening for a, “Yes.”
The rest of the story is too long and complex to tell now, but ultimately, I had to abandon that dream. But when I did, I discovered my calling. I went on to complete my Bible training and become a pastor. And I’m so thankful for the patient kindness of God that made it possible for me to spend my life doing what I was made for instead of what I desired.
Are you desperate to hear from God today about something but he seems silent? Perhaps the issue is more about whether you’re willing to hear what he’s saying. Maybe now would be a good time to settle in for a few quiet moments of prayer that surrender your agenda for his. If you do, you’ll discover the fulfillment that results when you throw the pitch he’s signaling rather than insisting on the one you desire.
Jesus invaded the world beneath from the world above in order to provide – by means of faith in his sacrifice – the only bridge leading back. In John 8:21-24, Jesus described the impassible chasm sin has opened between the two worlds and repeated the warning he’d made to the religious leaders in the previous chapter concerning the urgency of their need to place trust in his messiahship.
His message was straight and strong. But their jealousy and pride had produced a faithlessness that continued blinding them to the light of the world – as Jesus had described himself in verse 12. They refused to grasp the simple clarity of his words. Instead, they chose to accuse him of being suicidal and completely ignored the offer of salvation he was extending by confronting them with the consequences of their unbelief.
So sad…
But there are at least two things described in these verses that should stir us to deep gratitude.
First, Jesus didn’t give up on the jewish leaders. He certainly could have, and I certainly would have. Yet, twice in as many days, he warned them that his time among them was short and that the path of unbelief they were travelling would lead to eternal separation from God. Instead of dismissing or damning, he was urging them to change course while he was still physically in their midst.
What a demonstration of our Savior’s love, pursuing to the last even the hardest-hearted that they might turn from their sin and know his grace! It’s humbling to realize we’ve been loved like that. The forgiveness that secured our eternal destiny is not the result of anything we’ve done but is the fruit of his relentless pursuit of our lost souls.
Second, the Lord’s statements that he is not of this world and would be returning to the world above when his redemptive work was done brings such peace to our lives. In John 16:33, Jesus said that we can be of good cheer because he has overcome the tribulations of this world on our behalf. In other words, His triumph over all the brokenness in this world beneath has become our victory too. He is our bridge to the heavenlies not just for the day we pass from this life but for the many days we’re tempted to lose hope in the midst of it.
Let’s allow our spirits to fill and our worship to overflow with praise for the one who refused to give up on us and who is daily introducing us to the joys of a life focused on the world above.
Who are you? That’s the incredibly important question John 8:13-20 can help answer.
Unwilling to allow it to stand unchallenged, the Pharisees tried to discredit Jesus’ claim that he was the light of the world by invoking a legal argument. According to their law, two independent witnesses were required to establish the truth of a matter. So, they insisted his self-description was invalid.
In response, Jesus repeated what he’d already made clear in chapter 5 – that the Heavenly Father is his corroborating witness.
And that’s all that needed to be said. But he chose to add something here in verse 14 I find fascinating and believe was intended for our benefit. He said that even if his testimony regarding this aspect of his identity stood on its own, it would be true. And then, he explained why – because he knew where he came from and where he was going.
Perhaps you’ve noticed that people frequently self-describe in ways that are misleading, inaccurate, or incomplete – presenting themselves as someone they’re not. I know I’ve been guilty of this. I’ve caught myself shaping my persona, backstory, and identity to fit my own aspirations, the expectations of others, or my circumstances instead of my personal truth not because I was trying to be deceptive, but because I didn’t really know myself.
And the daily task of trying make sure I’m wearing the right costume for the right situation can be exhausting. It’s a burden none of us are built to bear. We were meant to simply be ourselves and confidently present ourselves as ourselves.
Who knew it could be that simple?
Well, it is simple. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. It requires an honest assessment of our history alongside a clear-eyed sense of our destiny. Like Jesus, if our internal and external statements of identity – what we believe about ourselves and present to others – are going to be true, we need to know where we’ve come from and where we’re going.
What does that mean?
To start with, it means confronting the influences of our past – those relationships and experiences that have shaped us – and allowing the Lord to address with his loving truth any distorted concepts of our personhood that have resulted. This healing of our souls is what provides a healthy understanding of how God sees us so we can embrace his perspective as our own.
Next, we need to get clear about where we’re headed. And it’s more about knowing who will determine that than it is about having all the details mapped out. The question regarding who’s been assigned the driver’s seat in our lives is what needs to be answered. Once that’s settled, life’s twists and turns can be navigated without an undue weight of concern for what others think. We can just enjoy the ride.
So, let’s take a few minutes right now to invite the Holy Spirit to reshape – by the power of his grace – those aspects of our identity that have been falsely distorted by our past, and to take control of setting the course for our future so that we can live in the solid assurance of who and whose we are.
My wife and I lived for a couple of years in California’s San Joaquin Valley. And between November and March each year, that region experiences a weather condition known as tule fog. It can last for weeks at a time and is so thick it can block out most of the sun’s light.
I had an extremely hard time coping with it. And sometimes, when I just couldn’t take it anymore, I’d get in my car and drive up into the foothills of the nearby Sierra Nevada Mountains to a small town called Three Rivers located at an elevation above the fog just so I could see and feel the sun again. I can still recall the joy of bursting through into the light. It was amazing!
And that brings me to John 8:12 where the same kind of dramatic breakthrough awaits. John’s gospel contains seven I am statements Jesus made. And we encounter the second of these here at the conclusion of the incident regarding the adulterous woman when he said, “I am the light of the world.”
This self-description is not offered randomly in isolation. It’s anchored to the context. Jesus meant for us to consider its implications in the flow of what was happening at the time. After wading through a passage where the dark ugliness of this sin-corrupted world was on full display, the powerful light of our savior shines forth in stark contrast. And that’s the point he was making.
I no longer live in the San Joaquin, but you and I both live in a world that can seem very dark, clouded by selfishness, hatred, bigotry, perversion, arrogance, and suffering of every sort. And when the fog of despair starts to roll in, the Lord wants us to be assured that his light overcomes. It attracts, it warms, it comforts, it guides, it exposes, it cleanses, it nourishes, and it empowers.
Our world needs to experience more of the light of Christ. Don’t you agree?
If you do, then we need to consider something else Jesus said. Matthew 5:14 captures him telling a crowd of followers, “You are the light of the world.” He was clarifying that he intends his to be a reflected light, illuminating the darkness through his people. And that’s kind of a heart-stopping, jaw-dropping realization. Jesus wants to use the reflective surface of our lives as his means for brightening this needy planet.
And if that’s going to happen, it means we need to allow the Holy Spirit to polish us up. My life’s got a lot of smudges that need his attention if the mirror of my soul is going to be of much use.
Maybe that’s true for you too. If so, let’s partner in prayer together today inviting the Lord to do whatever he needs to make us shine brighter for him.
Find more at TheJohnProject.com
In John 8:7-11, the confrontation of Jesus by the Jewish elite over their arrest of an adulterous woman concluded in an unexpected way as the Lord demonstrated the dramatic difference between condemnation and conviction.
The religious leaders continued insisting that Jesus take a stand on the issue of the woman’s punishment. Her guilt was not in question. She’d been caught in the act. This was about whether she should be stoned to death for her crime. And it seemed Jesus was hesitating because of the cleverness of their trap. If he agreed with their judgment, he would alienate the crowds. If he didn’t, he would be guilty of not upholding the law. Either way, the scribes and Pharisees would win. So, they pressed him for a response.
But he refused to play their game. Instead, he issued a statement that acknowledged the seriousness of the sin without joining the chorus of condemnation. He simply invited anyone who was guiltless among the accusers to throw the first rock. Then, he went back to writing in the dirt.
Stunned by the power of what he’d said, verse 8 tells us everyone who heard it was convicted and began to quietly slip out one by one until Jesus was left alone with the woman. And after confirming that no one was left to condemn her – without condoning, excusing, or turning a blind eye to what she’d done – he sent her away into the hope of a different future than the one she’d arrived with by saying, “Go and sin no more.”
And that’s what conviction always does. It creates the potential for a different outcome when combined with our confession and repentance. Condemnation passes judgment on sin for the purpose of punishment. Conviction acknowledges sin for the purpose of redirecting future behavior. The Lord refused to condemn. But his direct confrontation of the sin of both the leaders and the adulteress resulted in conviction that changed the course of their actions.
Condemnation only deepens patterns of iniquity. Conviction empowers redemption. Condemnation is used by the Devil to imprison us. Conviction is used by the Holy Spirit to set us free (John 16:8).
Two nights ago, I was jolted awake by the realization that I’d left a restaurant that evening without paying the bill. My heartrate climbed with the realization that I’d stolen from that business. I began imagining what the waitress must have thought of me and worse, the damage I’d done to my gospel testimony with the people at the neighboring table I’d had a conversation with about Jesus. And even though my failure was not intentional, suddenly, there it was – condemnation.
But just as I could feel that wave of shame about to break over me, I found myself responding to the hope-filled voice of conviction instead. Before God, I confessed my irresponsibility and formed a plan of repentance that involved returning to the eatery as soon as they opened the next day to make things right. As I did, my soul settled, and instead of spending the night in restless guilt, I was at peace.
The next day, when I went back to straighten things out, not only was the staff not angry, they actually thanked me and remarked several times about how impressed they were with my honesty – clearly a different outcome than I deserved.
If you find yourself coming under the weight of condemnation today, reject it. On the other hand, be quick to respond to the conviction of the Holy Spirit, and you’ll find him redirecting your future.
The precious scene described in the first two verses of John 8 turned just about as dark and ugly as can be imagined when the scribes and Pharisees showed up in the next verse. They shoved a woman to the center of the crowd who’d been caught in the act of adultery and demanded to know whether Jesus would support enforcing the death penalty in her case.
But the passage makes clear that they really weren’t concerned about the law they were citing. Otherwise, the man involved would have been dragged out of bed and paraded through town to be judged as well. Adultery does require two sinners.
No, their misogynistic, crude, and cruel behavior was focused on one thing only. They were trying to set a trap for Jesus. They were certain that if he agreed with their brutal enforcement of the law, the crowd would turn against him, and if he responded with mercy, they could accuse him of violating Scripture. Either way they were sure they had him cornered.
But as usual, our Lord did the unexpected. He submitted his response in writing.
Verse 6 tells us that Jesus stooped down – refusing to join the crowd in gawking at the woman – and wrote something in the dust on the floor of the Temple. We’re not told, so we can’t know the content of his inscription. But the fact that this is the only description of a handwritten communication from Jesus is worth contemplating.
He wasn’t just doodling. The original language used here is clear about that. He was saying something. The hand of God had engraved on a tablet of stone (Exodus 20:14), “You shall not commit adultery.” And now, the hand of the Son of God was writing a response to the merciless enforcement of that command.
Was Jesus undermining the seventh commandment? Clearly not. Through this entire episode he never once exonerated the woman or rejected the validity of the proposed punishment. But he did refuse to condemn her. And that’s exactly what he’d said was part of his divine commission. He told Nicodemus in John 3:17 that, “…God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved.”
We are all guilty of sin. Romans 6:23 says every one of us is under the death penalty for our rebellion against God. But I’m glad that’s not the end of the story. That same verse also describes the gift of eternal life available to us in Christ.
What was Jesus writing in the dirt on the floor? I don’t know, but I’ll bet handwriting analysis would reveal it to have been the work of the same person who stooped under the weight of a cruel cross refusing to gawk at or condemn us in our sin and instead penned our names in the Lamb’s Book of Life (Philippians 4:3; Revelation 21:27). Let’s live today with grateful hearts for the overwhelming grace and mercy of the one who loves us that much.
As we open the eighth chapter of John together, let me acknowledge that the first 11 verses along with the last one of the previous chapter is among the passages most argued about by New Testament textual scholars. Very simply, their contention has to do with whether this section is inspired, and if so, where it belongs in the Gospels.
Now, I don’t consider myself qualified to comment on this debate. So, I rely on the hard work of others with far better credentials to explore the issue. And I find Jameison, Fausset, and Brown to be very thorough, balanced, cogent, and scholarly. I agree with their assessment that although the arguments to the contrary are worth exploring, the evidence for considering these verses as Scripture and rightly located is conclusive.
So, with that said, let’s dive in. And I’d like to start by considering verses 1 and 2. Here we’re told that after spending the night under the stars on the Mount of Olives, Jesus entered the Temple early the next morning, sat down, and taught a crowd of people who had gathered.
Oh, I wish I could have been there. Don’t you? I can’t imagine anything better than to have had the opportunity to start the day in the presence of Jesus, who was seated among them – not postured for just putting in an appearance before rushing off to more important things – and with loving patience, pouring out his heart into theirs. Oh my gosh! It moves me now to think of it.
But wait a minute. Hasn’t the Lord invited each of us to enter this scene every day of our lives? Doesn’t Revelation 3:20 articulate this standing offer? And what about Matthew 6:6 where we’re welcomed to regularly encounter him not just in a crowd but in the privacy of the secret place?
Perhaps the heart-yearning these verses stir in me isn’t really about the possibility of being with Jesus in this way but about the missed opportunities. Sadly, I often make the choice to begin my day without him. How about you?
It may not be morning where you are as you hear this, but it’s not too late to start the rest of the day with him. Let’s do what we can to make that happen. Mute the phone, step away from the desk, grab a Bible, find a crevasse of solitude, and sit with him while he infuses our lives with his.
Sometimes people are so desperate to be right about something that even in the face of undeniable data they will distort the facts in order to create an alternate reality that supports their viewpoint and then adopt that distortion as truth.
One extreme example of this is the hundreds and perhaps thousands of people who persist in claiming the earth is a flat disk not a sphere despite the overwhelming scientific evidence to the contrary. The pretzel logic required to support this is just absurd.
And this is the kind of thing the closing section of John 7 describes. In verses 47-53, having just been confronted by members of their own police force with the power of Jesus’ words, the religious leaders doubled down on their position that he was a fraud, a threat, and worthy of death. They ridiculed the police officers. Then, they expressed their contempt for the faith of the common people. And next, they belittled one of their own members for suggesting they should follow legal procedures before condemning a man to death without a trial.
Then, they just went off the rails. Determined to hold their position at all costs, they made a statement that was both false and illogical. They said that no prophet had ever come from Galilee.
Of course, they were ignoring the fact that the prophets Jonah and Nahum were both from Galilee. And according to many scholars, Malachi was as well. But even if all this had somehow just slipped their minds, their implication that no prophet could come from Galilee because none had, was just preposterous.
This kind of delusional thinking is symptomatic of people who have become thoroughly invested in maintaining a false claim.
What does this have to do with you and me? It’s easy to point fingers at Pharisees and flat-earthers, but I think we need to confront our own tendency to dig our heels in to protect a position or belief we want to be true.
There’s always a temptation to put words in God’s mouth to authorize our desires and then barricade ourselves behind phrases like, “God told me” or “God said” so we can ignore the conviction of the Holy Spirit or the loving correction of friends. And this was true of a dark period in my own life.
I read 2 Corinthians 5:7 which says, “...We walk by faith, not by sight,” and decided this verse gave me the permission to ignore the negative balance I saw in my checkbook register. I also misappropriated Philippians 4:19 which says, “...God shall supply all your need,” and used it to justify continuing to write bad checks all over town.
I bet you can imagine how that turned out. Sadly, it wasn’t until I experienced much unnecessary hardship and heartache that I finally stopped attempting to defend the indefensible and admitted to myself and before God my sinful presumption. I so desperately wanted to believe God would support my lazy and irresponsible behavior that I twisted his words to suit my desire.
Oh man! I wish I had that part of my life to relive. But my point is we all need to be careful of the spiritual blindness that can overtake us when we choose to fight for what we want instead of stand on what’s true. And if that last statement illuminates something going on in your own life, bring it to Jesus in repentance and let him straighten out the pretzel…right now!
John 7:45 returns to the unfinished thread dangling from verse 32 when the Jewish religious leaders sent their police force to apprehend Jesus for the purpose of executing him. Those officers had returned to the chief priests and Pharisees empty-handed, and a reason for their dereliction of duty was demanded of them.
Their one-sentence reply in verse 46 is so profound it stops me in my tracks every time I read it. I simply find it impossible to move on from this verse without spending time enjoying, reflecting on, and personally responding to these moving words. Referring to Jesus they said, “No man ever spoke like this man!”
During the years of my pastoral ministry, I had the privilege of serving many men and women employed in law enforcement. And one of the things I learned about these brave and dedicated public servants is that they’re not easily impressed. They develop a healthy dose of skepticism in order to be effective at what they do. And this is especially true when it comes to what people say. Words are cheap and can be easily thrown around carelessly. These guys are daily subjected to streams of false and deceptive claims in their line of work. So, they usually don’t pay much attention to your talk until they see your walk. Deeds are the language that matters most to them.
Another thing I’ve noted about these folks is their loyalty and commitment to their superiors. So, the fact that the words of Jesus impacted these religious police so deeply that they were willing to disobey orders and defy the Jewish leaders is stunning.
In the time between when they had set out with the arrest warrant and returned to give their report, they encountered someone whose words penetrated their well-developed defenses and captured them so completely they were willing to face insubordination rather than betray their hearts.
They discovered – as countless others have since – that among many other things, the words of Jesus can empower us to stand up to false authorities. Sometimes – as in this case – these impostors are other people. But most of the time they’re those faceless entities we allow to dictate our thoughts, feelings, responses, and behaviors. But no matter what commands we’ve received from pride, shame, self-pity, fear, depression, anger, lust or any of the rest of their unholy crew, choosing to listen to and act on what Jesus says instead enables us to hold our ground against their threats.
If you find yourself struggling under orders from one of these illegitimate voices today, here’s what I suggest. Get hold of an edition of the Bible with the words of Jesus printed in red, open it to one of the four Gospels – Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John – find some red ink, and allow those words to empower your resistance. In fact, John 16:33 might be a good place to start. Jesus said:
These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.
randyboldt.com/john
In John 7:40-44, after Jesus had concluded his breathtaking invitation and teaching regarding the ministry of the Holy Spirit, many of those who heard him were moved to belief. But a segment of the crowd was still unconvinced. And the reason they gave for their unbelief was that Jesus had come from Galilee and Scripture had prophesied that the Messiah would come from Bethlehem.
But they were completely wrong about that.
Oh, they were right about the prophesy, but they falsely assumed that because Jesus was from Galilee that he had been born there. The truth was that although Jesus grew up in the Galilean city of Nazareth, he had been born in the Judean town of Bethlehem exactly as had been foretold.
And they could have easily found out where Jesus was born if they had asked any of the members of his family who were there in Jerusalem that week for the Feast of Tabernacles. But they didn’t. Why? Because they were certain they knew all there was to know about the matter and had reached their conclusion based on what they assumed to be a settled fact.
But it turns out, they didn’t know what they didn’t know. And there are still people who disregard or outright reject Jesus because of what they believe to be indisputable information while remaining completely oblivious to all they don’t comprehend.
And a fuller discussion of this issue and its impact would be completely appropriate at this point in John 7, but I want to talk about something else. Actually, I want to ask a question. Why didn’t Jesus set the record straight?
He was there, and he certainly knew what was being said about him. And if faith in his messiahship was literally an eternal life or death issue for those people, why on earth did he remain silent? It seems almost cruel not to have settled their objection to his lordship by simply eliminating the confusion around his birthplace so they could join the ranks of believers.
But even though the solution to their unbelief seems pretty straightforward, I have a hunch this may be one of those things we don’t know we don’t know. I think Jesus understands something about human nature we don’t. I think the reality is this group of people was simply not willing to place their trust in him and no amount of information was going to change that.
People never exercise faith in Jesus because all their questions have been answered. If so, it wouldn’t be faith. We place our trust in Christ because we reach the point where we’ve seen and heard enough to make the choice to step across the belief threshold. On one side of this tipping point we doubt more than we believe, but on the other, we believe more than we doubt. And the decision to take that leap is what launches us on the journey that leads to the answers for the questions we know we have, but more importantly to the discovery of what we don’t know we don’t know.
So, as you consider these verses with me today, if you’re resisting a step of faith because all your questions haven’t yet been answered, may I encourage you to stop hesitating at the belief threshold. It’s only on the other side that you’ll find what you’re looking for.
On the eighth and final day of the Feast of Tabernacles, at the apex of the celebration, Jesus spoke some of the most beautiful and moving words of his ministry. They’re found in John 7:37 and 38.
He captured the attention of the crowd and then issued a thrilling invitation. He offered to quench the heart-thirst of anyone who would place their faith in him. Then he went on to say that after relieving their spiritual longing, he would release a torrent of what he called living water from their once-parched souls.
Verse 39 clarifies that Jesus was describing the ministry of the Holy Spirit through whom he would both satisfy our deepest yearning and overflow us with rivers of his life-giving power.
Although we can’t know for certain, it seems most likely that this happened at the point in the day’s ceremonies when a priest brought water from Jerusalem’s Pool of Siloam and poured it out on the altar. Siloam is the endpoint of an aqueduct that carries water into the city from beneath the temple mount, and as such, symbolizes the spiritual refreshing that flows from God.
So, the Lord’s choice of this occasion and location were not accidental, and neither was the time of day. This would’ve happened during the morning sacrifice – the third hour or nine o’clock in the morning. And this is exactly the same time the Holy Spirit would be poured out upon the first church on the Day of Pentecost following his resurrection (Acts 2:1-4, 15).
As usual, Jesus was speaking volumes here in these few and magnificent words. But at the heart of it, he was describing the work of the Holy Spirit in the lives of believers as being two-fold. There’s a pouring in and a pouring out. Belief in Jesus initiates an inflow of the living water of the Spirit that regenerates us and an outflow of that same stream that – according to Jesus in Acts 1:8 – enables us to live out his plans for us in this world.
The Lord clearly meant for us to experience both. And yet it often seems that presentations of the gospel focus on the inflow that causes rebirth but neglect the outflow that unleashes Christ’s power in and through us. As certainly as we need to be born again by the Spirit, we need to be baptized in or empowered by him as well.
Thank God! Jesus has invited us to have it all. So, if you have expressed your faith in him and taken a deep drink from the wells of salvation (Isaiah 12:3) but sense there’s more, you’re right, there is. But the more you’re waiting for is already yours. Just pause right now and welcome the Holy Spirit to unleash the living water you’ve already received as a river he wants to pour through your life to a thirsty world.
In John 7:32-36 we’re told that having heard the expressions of faith in Jesus that were beginning to bubble up from among many who were in the crowd hearing him speak, the religious leaders decided it was time to act on their determination to kill him. So, they sent subordinates to make the arrest. And we’ll find out how this turned out when we get to the final section of the chapter.
But meanwhile, Jesus continued speaking and said he would soon be returning to the one who sent him – God the Father – and that when he did, no one would be able to find or follow him.
He wasn’t saying that he’d decided to give up on humanity and was just going to cash in his chips and go home. He simply meant that he wouldn’t be with them in person much longer. There was a time limit on his physical presence. He would be fulfilling his redemption assignment and returning to the heavenly realm. And even then, it wouldn’t be to abandon us but to make way for the ministry of the Holy Spirit who he will begin to introduce in the subsequent passage.
But this completely confused the Jewish elite. And even though Jesus had been perfectly clear, they began debating among themselves concerning what he meant about where he’d be going.
As usual, their spiritual pride rendered them completely blind to his point. He was issuing a call to action. It’s as though he were saying, “The time to believe is now while we’re literally in the same room together – where you can hear my teachings with your own ears and see my miracles with your own eyes. Don’t put it off. It won’t be easier after I’m gone.”
That doesn’t mean exercising faith requires the physical presence of Jesus. Billions of us have become Christ-followers in the two millennia since his ascension. But the time to believe him and to act on that faith is always now not later.
And here is where this get personal for me. Whenever circumstances challenge me to trust Jesus, I want to be immediate in my response. I don’t want to hesitate while I consider alternatives. But the reality is sometimes the little Pharisee that hides out in my soul resists belief. I give place to confusion or fear, drag my spiritual feet, and miss the opportunity to see God do something wonderful in response to my faith. But I am determined to make sure that happens less often.
Perhaps you feel the same. If so, I encourage you to scroll through the list of your life’s challenges today and sincerely decide that now is the time to trust Jesus with them. What are you waiting for?
Have you ever raised your voice during a conversation in order to make a point? Jesus did. Not often. But when we encounter one of those occasions in the Gospels, I think it’s wise to pay close attention to what he said. Don’t you? And one of those times is found in the two verses at the heart of John 7:25-31.
This section of the chapter captures the response of three different groups of people to Jesus’ ministry. We see the hostility of the religious leaders who felt threatened by his authority, we encounter the humble belief of those who were convinced of His messiahship by the displays of his power, and we also meet a group who rejected his message because of what they thought they knew about his identity based on where he was from.
And it was this assumption that prompted his powerful reply. He lifted his voice in dramatic fashion and told them his identity was not based on where he was from but on who he was from. He said he was sent by the one who is true, or more literally, real. In other words, he was from the only one whose sending matters. It was that sending that defined him.
And that’s true for us too. I think one of the reasons Jesus was so emphatic about this is that you and I need to know our true identity. Our sense of self is so often distorted by the false belief that we’re defined by where we’re from – our past wounds and failures – instead of who we’re from – the one who has sent us.
Revelation 12:10 describes the devil as our accuser. He is relentless in his efforts to remind us of where we’re from and label us by those accusations. And he also works hard to arrange for his allegations to be supported and amplified by nearly everyone we meet. We are almost always judged by others based on our history.
But John 17:18 and 20:21 record Jesus’ own words as he declared that he has personally sent us in the same way the Father sent him. And we’re defined by our sender – who we’re from – just as he was.
Don’t forget that. When you’re tempted today to believe otherwise, remember the time Jesus cried out in the temple to make the point that our identity rests securely on who we’re from.
In John 7:19-24, Jesus continued teaching in the Temple during the Feast of Tabernacles. He purposefully picked at an old scab when he asked the crowd why they wanted to kill him. And although they responded by expressing confusion, the question was really addressed to the religious leaders in their midst who knew exactly what he meant.
It had been a year and a half since the healing of the lame man at the pool of Bethesda on a Sabbath day. That had stirred up a hornets’ nest of hatred among the Jewish elite and resulted in their determining to find a way to execute Jesus (John 5:9-16). And now, eighteen months later, the Lord’s inquiry pulled the curtain back on their secret plan and revealed the intense animosity that still festered in their hearts.
It’s clear Jesus wanted to get this out in the open and address it publicly. But not just to settle a score. He wanted to teach them the right way to relate to biblical commands so they can become gifts to welcome not regulations to come under.
He pointed out that the Jewish leaders themselves routinely violated their rigid application of Sabbath restrictions. The Mosaic law required them to circumcise Jewish boys on their eighth day of life. But if that fell on a Sabbath, they didn’t hesitate to perform the circumcision. They prioritized its importance over a strict interpretation of rest. So, Jesus asked them to explain why healing a man would not be at least an equal priority.
And at first, it almost sounds like he’s asking to be excused for what he’d done because it wasn’t any worse than what they do. But he hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d done something very right, and he wanted them to do the same by exercising righteous judgment not based on appearance. In other words, he was inviting them to look beneath the surface of the law for its roots of righteousness before making judgments based on it.
What did he mean by that?
Well, he wasn’t suggesting that scriptural commands are merely suggestions that can be overridden or adjusted based on whim or changing circumstances. But he was clarifying that they aren’t oppressive, unyielding shackles either. They’re ultimately about the orientations and intensions of the heart not mere compliance.
It’s entirely possible to go through the motions of obedience without the soul being aligned with the actions. In fact, that’s exactly how the scribes and Pharisees could harbor their deep hatred of Jesus behind a façade of strict legalism.
2 Corinthians 3:6 tells us, “…the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.” When we look beyond the surface – or letter – of the commandments and embrace the Holy Spirit’s purposes behind them, something life-giving starts to emerge. We begin to see them as expressions of God’s compassion.
And this can radically change the way we read, understand, and apply Scripture. As the Holy Spirit enables us to see it through the lens of God’s commitment to help us experience his righteousness – or rightness – we begin to discover his gifts of grace behind every command. We then find ourselves longing for those blessings, and it motivates our obedience.
Is there a specific scriptural directive, restriction, or regulation that you struggle with today, finding it difficult to understand or obey? If so, I invite you to take another look. Welcome the Spirit to help you see beyond the surface into the loving heart of God who offers it to you as a pathway to rightness.
John chapter 7 verse 10 informs us Jesus made a low-profile journey to Jerusalem during the Feast of Tabernacles. And the preceding verses clarify his strategy. He didn’t want to prematurely attract the attention of the religious leaders who wanted to kill him. But then, verse 14 states that at a time near the midpoint of the eight-day celebration, he went to the Temple – the epicenter of the week’s activities – and began to teach. He went to the most visible venue and publicly proclaimed his message.
He clearly was unafraid. On the other hand, verses 11-13 tell us he had supporters among the gathered crowds who wouldn’t speak openly about him specifically because of their fear. So, we see Jesus managing his public testimony strategically while those in the crowd restrained theirs in order to protect themselves.
And that reminds me of something that happened yesterday.
My wife and I went out to breakfast with another couple who are lifelong friends and partners in ministry. So, our table conversation was filled with Jesus-talk as we caught up on all the wonderful things God has done and is doing in and through our lives.
But at one point, I caught myself thinking about the single woman seated very close by at the table next to us. I began to wonder how our conversation – which was clearly spilling over into her space – was being received. I instinctively lowered my volume and became more deliberate with my choice of words. And I’m not sure that I was managing my testimony strategically. I suspect it was out of fear – not of physical harm but diminished reputation.
Don’t get me wrong. I totally understand the appropriateness of exercising consideration regarding when, where, and how to vocalize my love for Christ. I’m an advocate for believers being mindful and measured – strategic – about our faith-sharing. But honestly, I don’t think that was what was going on in my soul.
Although I thankfully live in a country that enjoys freedom of religion, the tide of opinion has definitely turned in recent years against the acceptability of public confessions of Christian faith. Expressions of nearly any other viewpoint are celebrated, but open declarations of belief in Jesus are increasingly frowned upon. And Jesus-followers who go public are generally considered fools and usually worse.
I think my thoughts and actions yesterday were more reflective of a concern for my reputation than kingdom purpose. And that’s something I just cannot allow to take root in my heart. I choose today to live out my faith strategically under the direction of the Holy Spirit without surrendering to the fear of man.
In John 6 verses 60-66, we encounter a sad fact and a breathtaking reality.
First, the sad fact is that some people will make the choice to turn away from following Jesus.
The passage opens by disclosing that many of those who’d been following Him since the loaves and fishes miracle and heard Him describe Himself as the Bread from Heaven that provides eternal life, complained that they just couldn’t understand His message. They said it was too hard to grasp.
He responded by saying that if they couldn’t comprehend this prerequisite truth, they would certainly not be able to move on to the rest of what could be revealed to them. He also clarified the problem as a paradigm issue not a communication failure. It was neither that they weren’t intelligent enough nor that He wasn’t clear. It was that they were refusing to let go of their faithless frame of reference.
A paradigm is a framework of understanding. It’s the lens through which we see things. And when He said, “The flesh profits nothing,” He meant that insisting their humanistic, natural-world, unbelieving framework could handle spiritual understanding was folly. He was introducing them to a whole new paradigm. He wasn’t just trying to get a point across, His words were literally spirit and life.
He went on to say their comprehension problem was not the difficulty of the concepts, it was their lack of faith. Belief is the fist step into the paradigm of the spirit, and it cannot be skipped. As long as a person resists believing in Christ, there’s only so much they can receive from Him. And sadly, many in this crowd had reached the end of the line. And so, they walked away.
But not all of them. And that’s where we discover the breathtaking reality described in the heart of verse 65.
Here we see a completely different outcome for those of us who DO choose to believe. Instead of turning away, we find ourselves coming TO Jesus. And we’re told the Heavenly Father is the One who grants this amazing access.
This is stunning on so many levels. It means that when we’re hurting, we can come to Jesus. When we’re weak, we can come to Jesus. And it also means when we’re confused, unclear, or uncertain about anything, we can come to Jesus.
So even though we might encounter spiritual truths that initially challenge our comprehension, our faith has ushered us into the paradigm of the Spirit and given us direct access to the One who can and will open those truths to us.
I challenge you, Dear One. Don’t be among those who turn away in unbelief. Daily choose to faithfully, fearlessly, and continuously follow Jesus by faith and experience the ecstasy of access.
In John 6:52-59, we have the conclusion of the conversation Jesus had with the Jews about Him being the true “Bread from Heaven” and the “Bread of Life.” This final section of the passage begins by describing the struggle they had comprehending the concept of eating His flesh, or in other words, spiritually feasting on Jesus in order to gain eternal life.
But, without even a hint of frustration, the Lord patiently explained it all again, providing them with yet another opportunity to grasp this truth. He was building a bridge of understanding from something they already knew – manna in the wilderness – to something they didn’t yet know – the cross. And even though we’ll discover that most of them chose not to cross the span, this demonstration of His patient willingness to escort them over is deeply moving to me.
Why? Because I’m often very slow to comprehend spiritual truth. And knowing that my Savior won’t give up on me and is willing to lovingly work with me until I get it, is profoundly soul-securing.
For example, after nearly forty-five years of my marriage, I finally feel like I’m starting to understand what Ephesians 5:25 means when it says, “Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loves the church and gave Himself for her.” And I can’t thank Jesus enough for hanging in there with me through that steep learning curve, because the impact on the sweetness of my relationship with Sue is simply indescribable.
We don’t know what we don’t know. So, in our human pride we assume we understand eternal things when we really don’t. The truth is that our earth-bound, sin-scarred, and materialistic frame of reference is so narrow and shallow that we are completely dependent on the Bridge Builder to lead us from ignorance to knowledge. So, thank God we have the promise of John 16:13 – “He will guide you into all truth.”
In light of the immeasurable kindness of our patient, loving teacher, let’s stay teachable today as He leads us from what we think we know to what we have yet to discover.
I’m a bottom-line kind of guy. As an internal processor, I respond best to conversations where I know what we’re talking about upfront rather than having to wade through a lengthy preamble or setup before arriving at the heart of the matter.
God bless my dear wife. She’s the exact opposite. She’s a verbal processor. Her most natural way to communicate is to begin with a detailed description of the process that produced what she wants to say before she actually says it.
Early in our marriage, this drove me crazy. But over the years, I’ve come to appreciate and even highly value this aspect of who she is. I’ve learned how to stay engaged with her through these verbal wanderings and to even encourage them because my life is vastly richer and my understanding much broader due to this gift of her communication style.
But on those rare occasions when she approaches me with the words, “Honey, here’s the bottom line,” I just go weak in the knees, and I’m putty in her hands.
So, John 6:47 is my kind of verse.
With absolute clarity and economy of words, Jesus emphatically stated the bottom line. He said, “He who believes in Me has everlasting life.” Then, after coming right to the point, He proceeded to explain what this kind of belief is like.
In verses 48-51, He described Himself as the Bread of Life and said that salvation is the result of eating this Bread. And He leaves no mystery about it. He plainly states that the Bread He’s talking about is His body and that He will be offering it up in order to provide life to the world.
In other words, saving faith requires more than just arriving at an intellectual or philosophical agreement with the truth of His Messiahship. It requires consuming, taking in, or internalizing this truth. It means welcoming Jesus INTO our lives.
There’s a saying, “You are what you eat.” And it means the food we consume exerts profound influence on our lives. Our health, energy, appearance, mood, intelligence, and so much more are shaped by it. We literally can’t live without it. But it has to be eaten in order to be of benefit. Being in the same room as a plate of food or just sitting there looking at it and considering its attributes will accomplish nothing.
In a similar way, exercising a faith that goes beyond mere contemplation and actually begins ingesting the Bread of Life is what brings our spirits to life and shapes every aspect of our eternal selves. So, you’ll understand what I mean when I say salvation requires feasting on Jesus.
And He clarified what He meant by this when in Matthew 4:4 he quoted Moses in Deuteronomy and said, “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.” We internalize Jesus as we feed on God’s Word, the Bible.
So today, let’s sit down at the table He’s prepared for us and dive in. Open His Word, and enjoy the feast that produces life everlasting.
I love it when Jesus quotes Scripture! And that’s what happened in John 6:45. So, we have the Word of God quoting the word of God. It’s just so cool!
And He uses an interesting communication technique here – one He employs in other places in the Gospels as well. He quotes just the first part of Isaiah 54:13 confident that it’s so familiar His hearers will automatically recall the rest of the context.
It’s like what happened the other day when a friend commented on the tendency of people to associate with others who share similar interests. My friend said, “Birds of a feather…” And he didn’t have to finish the saying because he knew my mind would search my memory and fill in the rest, “flock together.” I knew the whole quote, “Birds of a feather flock together.”
This technique stimulates a person to think more deeply about what’s being said, and that’s what Jesus wanted.
As His audience continued wrestling with His claim to be the Bread of Life, He wanted to lead them beyond the shallow, literal thinking that was constraining their ability to hear what He was really saying. So, He injected into the conversation a small piece of a very familiar and much-loved passage of Scripture that at first glance seems completely unrelated. But as their minds reflexively became engaged in the process of completing the quote, He knew they would find themselves recalling the sweet promises of God’s grace contained in those verses.
He wanted them to see His role as Bread of Life in the context of that flow of God’s redeeming love to them.
It’s amazing how God’s word can do that, take us to a deeper and richer place when we get stuck on the surface. And that’s part of the reason why it’s so important to read the Bible and allow its treasures to become stored in our memories. It gives the Lord something to draw on when He needs to point our minds and hearts toward an unexpected discovery.
The direction of my entire adult life hinges on one of those times.
As a young man in my early twenties, I’d reached a point where my future was completely uncertain. It seemed that the trail I’d been following suddenly disappeared. My heart began to fill with anxiety and my mind became exhausted from running what-if scenarios.
Then, out of the blue, as I sat alone on a lunch break at my warehouse job, the first part of 2 Timothy 2:15 bubbled up unbidden into my thoughts from the place in my memory where I had stored that verse as a child. And as my mind filled in the balance of the quote, I knew God was speaking to me through it. He was restoring a calling to pastoral ministry I thought I’d disqualified myself from, and He was preparing me for the next steps along that journey.
The door to the rest of my life opened in that moment and having that little verse of Scripture committed to memory was the key.
Dear one, let’s make a fresh commitment to having more keys on the ring by soaking in God’s word today.
In John 6:43-44, Jesus responded to the faithless murmurings of the Jewish religious elite regarding His claim of divinity. He said that embracing this truth is a response to something God initiates. It starts with Him not us. The process that results in placing faith in Christ begins with God drawing us toward belief.
There’s something wonderful about that don’t you think? To realize that my faith in Jesus as Savior began with the Heavenly Father pursuing me – enticing me – takes my breath away. I am His child because He WANTED me. And if that weren’t amazing enough, Jesus went on to say that my relationship with Him will endure through the last day of my life in this world, and then, He will raise me up into His eternal presence.
And that reminds me of something.
Our youngest grandchildren are one-year-old twin girls. And the other day, I was watching one of them playing on the floor. I called out her name. And when she turned to look at me, I reached out to her, and she started crawling toward me. I gathered her up in my arms, snuggled her, kissed her cheek, told her I loved her, and would have held her like that all day if I could have.
Now, I know it’s an imperfect example, but a relationship with Jesus is like that. It’s all Him not us. It’s not about us finding Him or trying desperately to hold on to Him once we do. He reaches out to us. And then, when we respond to His great love, He wraps us in his embrace and holds on forever.
Dear One, rest in His love today. He desires you. He’s holding on to you. And no matter what, He won’t let go.
Earlier in John chapter 6, Jesus had announced to the crowd that He was the bread of life sent from God, His Father, to satisfy their spiritual hunger. But now, in verses 41-42, we’re told that they – especially the religious elite who are described as “the Jews” – we’re choking on this truth and unable to receive it because of what they thought they knew about Jesus. They thought they knew where He came from. They knew He was raised in Joseph and Mary’s household. So, they just could not accept it when He claimed God was His Father. Their familiarity with Jesus hindered them from hearing what He said about Himself – a truth they desperately needed to embrace.
We all face a withering assault from the Devil attempting to keep us from the spiritual fulfillment God has provided in His Son. And he does this by trying to convince us we are unloved, forsaken, and forgotten. If he can’t undo our salvation, he intends to at least diminish its impact on how we live by using those lies about God’s heart toward us to keep us bound in lives of frustration, discouragement, depression, dishonor, and destruction.
But the truth set us free. When we believe what our Savior declares is true about Himself and His love for us, chains shatter, strongholds break. I’ve witnessed this miraculous transformation in people’s lives countless times over the years of my pastoral ministry. And I’ve experienced it myself.
But I’ve also noticed that one of the greatest challenges to being able to hear Jesus when He speaks truth over us is familiarity – that sense that we already know where He’s coming from so to speak. Our knowledge ABOUT Him can get in the way of our knowing who He really is.
This morning, I was trying to connect a credit card reader to my phone via Bluetooth. Now, I’m computer savvy and I know my way around digital gear. But I just couldn’t get it to work. So, after several failed attempts, I determined it must be broken. Have you ever been there? I was just about to go buy a new one when I decided to try one more time. But this time, I opened the device’s app on my phone first before doing the Bluetooth pairing. And for some reason, that did the trick. Everything worked perfectly. But I came very close to allowing my familiarity with technology to keep me from discovering something I needed know to be able to benefit from using that device.
I think you can tell where I’m going with this. Is there an area of your life that isn’t working and has left you feeling spiritually trapped? If so, there’s a lie from hell keeping that chain in place. Can you identify it? Jesus wants to shatter that with the truth. What falsehood has the enemy convinced you of regarding who the Lord is and wants to be for you? Don’t allow your familiarity with where you think the Lord is coming from regarding your bondage to keep you from hearing what He’s trying to say.
Lay that lie out before Him. Open His Word. Quiet your heart. Hear His voice. Live free.
John 6:37-40 sits at one of the hotspots of the predestination / free will discussion that people much wiser and devoted than me have gone back and forth about for centuries. And, although I have a deeply held opinion about this issue, I’m certain that nothing I have to say will change anyone’s mind. So, I want to be upfront with the fact that I’m just not going address that aspect of this passage.
Instead, I’d like to talk about how these verses reveal that there’s more than one way to SEE something. For example, when I open my eyes and view the things in my field of vision, I’m SEEING them. But if I take it a step further and carefully consider what my eyes have observed, it often results in an awareness or understanding that can also be describe as SEEING. I can SEE a painting hanging on a wall. But as I consider its artistic significance, I can come to SEE its depth, beauty, meaning, and importance. And I’m raising this distinction because it helps illuminate an important truth contained in these verses.
In verse 36, Jesus had addressed the crowd that personally witnessed His power when He fed them by multiplying the loaves and fish. He said they’d SEEN Him but did not believe. Now, in verse 40, He says that everyone who SEES Him AND believes will have everlasting life.
These two verses use two different Greek words to describe two different ways of SEEING resulting in two VERY different outcomes.
In English we have a saying, “Seeing is believing.” But according to Jesus here, that’s not always true. For instance, I think you’d agree that it’s entirely possible for someone to SEE evidence of the power of God and still make the choice to not believe.
But since you’ve taken the time to listen to me today, it’s likely that you’ve SEEN and do believe. You’ve observed the display of God’s power hanging in the gallery of the natural world, considered the exquisite truth depicted in His Word, contemplated the gorgeous image of His grace portrayed in the cross, and as a result have chosen to place your faith in Him as Savior.
But that SEEING and believing is not just a one-time event. The Bible says in several places that we who have been justified by our faith in Jesus “live by faith.” Our believing is a daily thing. And I would suggest to you that daily believing involves daily SEEING. Just because I’ve already chosen to believe doesn’t mean I can afford to allow myself to stop carefully observing, considering, responding to, and delighting in the experiences of the revelation of the Lord on view moment-by-moment.
I want to SEE Him today. How about you?
John 6:30-36 records an example of how spiritually blind we can be when we become fixated on something we want.
Jesus had just told the people that believing in Him as Messiah is the one thing God is asking us to do. And to paraphrase, they responded by saying, “If You really want us to believe that You’re the Son of God, what miracle will You perform to convince us? Yes, we enjoyed the free meal You provided us the other day. But You only fed thousands and just once. Moses gave manna – the bread of heaven – to more than a million Israelites every day for forty years.”
Jesus corrected them by clarifying that it wasn’t Moses but God, the Father, who provided the manna during the wilderness wonderings and that it was meant to symbolize His ultimate provision of the true bread of heaven – the sending of His Son to give life to the world.
Their reply sounds good: “Lord give us this bread always.” But it’s clear by the Lord’s immediate response as well as what follows in the rest of the chapter that they still didn’t get it. He bluntly stated, “I am the bread of life.” And He went on to say that anyone who would come to Him could have their spiritual hunger and thirst completely satisfied. Then He sadly added, “And yet you do not believe.”
They were like a dog on a bone. They just could not let go of the dream of having Jesus provide them with free food. But their insistence on the satisfying of that desire caused them to miss the bigger picture altogether. And I’ll bet you’ve experienced that yourself. I certainly have.
In fact, just a couple of weeks ago I became infatuated with the idea of getting a pair of hiking boots like the ones I bought on our honeymoon when I was nineteen. I know it sounds crazy, but for several days there I spent all my free time dreaming about how much better my life would be if could just relive that part of my wardrobe history. And after several internet searches, I actually found some for sale. I came this close to spending $150 plus shipping on a pair of 44-year-old used boots. Now, that’s nuts!
What did I miss of my Savior’s voice and the ministry of His Spirit during those days when I was so determined to fulfill that desire? What spiritual hungers went unsatisfied by the bread of heaven while I pursued that temporary satisfaction?
And the same thing can happen when we get it in our heads that God ought to do what we think He should, when we think He should, and in the way we think He should. That presumption, if not quickly repented, can grow to the point where it chokes off our spiritual sensitivities.
Be careful not to let that happen. Is there any desire that you’re consumed with or insisting on today? Is the white-knuckled grip you have on that desire flowing out of your relationship with Jesus or something else? I encourage you to be honest with yourself and willing to surrender that hunger to the true bread of heaven.
In John 6:27, Jesus told the crowds to spend their labor on that which is eternal not temporary. And in verse 28, they responded by asking Him to explain. They wanted to know – as most people do – what kind of WORKS please God. And in verse 29, Jesus answered them in a completely unexpected way. Instead of telling them to pray, read the Bible, attend church, evangelize, tithe, love enemies, and feed the poor – along with a hundred other things we might have expected Him to say – He told them that BELIEVEING in HIM is the DOING God is looking for from us.
Now, when we hear this, most of us can’t help but think there’s got to be more to it. That’s just too easy. Surely, pleasing God requires something more labor-intensive than that. Belief is just too simple.
But hold on, just because something is simple doesn’t mean it isn’t challenging. Climbing a mountain isn’t complicated but it’s also not easy. Placing my faith in Jesus is pretty straightforward but living it out requires everything I’ve got. Trusting Him means placing my life, my future, my security, my provision – all that I am – in His hands.
And that’s why John 6:29 makes a lot of us uncomfortable. We’d prefer a list – no matter how long and complex – of things we need to DO to please God because checking off a to-do list doesn’t require surrendering control. Belief does.
So, we tend to want to add layers of DOING to our relationship with God. It makes us feel like we’re in the driver’s seat. But it also leads to spiritual exhaustion because our sin has made it impossible to ever DO enough.
So, let’s keep it simple. Let’s just scoot over to the passenger side and give Him the wheel. Let’s give up our DOING and rest in what He’s DONE.
John 6:22-27 quietly cuts like a knife to the heart of an issue I regularly need to re-consider. It challenges me to honestly evaluate why I follow Jesus.
After their hunger had been satisfied by the miracle of the loaves and fish, the crowds saw the Disciples get into their only boat and depart. But they also noted that Jesus didn’t go with them, and that He had headed off alone to a secluded area instead. Then, the next day, when they couldn’t find Him, they got into some other boats that had arrived later and went looking. When they located Him in the Capernaum area, they wanted to know how He’d managed to get there.
It’s interesting to note that Jesus didn’t answer them by telling how He’d walked on water. As dramatic a story as that would have been, He chose Instead to answer their question with a searing statement that revealed the true nature of why they’d followed Him there.
To paraphrase, He said their pursuit was not because they’d just seen this amazing sign of His messiahship and wanted to submit to Him as their Lord. He bluntly declared that the only reason they’d come looking for Him was because He’d provided them with free food. Ouch!
He challenged them to stop viewing their relationship with Him as a means of satisfying the temporary needs of the flesh, and to focus on eternity instead.
I have a relationship with the giant online retailer, Amazon.com. I pay an annual fee for its Prime service so that I can purchase items at what I hope will be discounted prices and have them shipped to me for free within two days. But that’s as far as the relationship goes. It’s transactional. And I’m at the center of it. I will pay that fee and be a loyal customer right up until the moment another company provides me with better prices or service. And if I’m honest, my relationship with Jesus can sometimes look like that.
I can sometimes drift into a state where I’m following Him because of what He provides me: forgiveness of sins, peace that passes understanding, joy inexpressible, the comfort of the Holy Spirit, the supply of all my needs according to His riches in Glory. And as much as the Bible makes it abundantly clear He delights to bless me – and you – in these ways, Matthew 6:33 reminds us that it’s AFTER seeking Him and His kingdom first that all these things are added to us. He wants a relationship with me that’s anchored in the eternal not the temporal. He wants to lead me beyond the here and now into the forever after.
Lord, I pray you’d help me reclaim an eternal perspective as the only motive for why I follow you. May it always be that our relationship is centered around You alone.
John 6:16-21 describes an event that took place after Jesus fed the multitudes when He withdrew from the crowds to be alone in prayer. And when you include the additional information supplied in the Gospels of Matthew and Mark, it illustrates some very important principles for anyone desiring divine guidance.
It says that around sunset, Jesus told the Disciples to get into a boat and sail in the direction of the town of Capernaum which wasn’t very far away along the north shore of the Sea of Galilee. And at first, they probably just hugged the coastline assuming Jesus would catch up to them on foot. But by nightfall, they still hadn’t seen Him, and a powerful storm came up which they battled all night while it forced them more than three miles out into the middle of the lake.
But we’re told that Jesus was watching them the whole time. And suddenly, when it seemed things couldn’t get any worse, there He was, drawing near to them, walking on the wind-whipped waves, assuring them everything would be OK as He got into the boat with them. And immediately after that, the storm miraculously ceased, and they found themselves at the “land where they were going.” Only…it wasn’t Capernaum. It was Gennesaret.
Why the storm? Why the change in destination? Well, let’s talk about it.
Most of us deeply desire to live our lives in obedience to God’s will. We want to follow the path He’s laid out for us. But much of the time we struggle to know what that is, primarily because we’re looking for the wrong things.
We’re looking for a route that takes us along the path of least resistance. We don’t want to face any obstacles, uphill climbs, or bad weather. But those are often the very things God needs to lead us through in order for His will to be fulfilled in our lives. The value of the personal and spiritual growth that results is priceless.
We also want to know where the road will take us before agreeing to set out on the journey. But it doesn’t work that way. God’s will is based on His eternal perspective, knowledge, and wisdom which are so Infinitely higher than our own, we don’t even have the frame of reference to comprehend that information. And if we could, we would be tempted to plot our own course and leave Him out of the picture altogether, which brings me to the bigger point. With God, it’s all about the journey, not the destination. The relationship, dependence, and faith we develop along the way are His priorities.
Here are some things to consider regarding divine guidance:
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In the same way that Jesus sent the Disciples TOWARD or in the direction of Capernaum, it almost always begins with less clarity about the ultimate destination than you want. God can usually only give us enough of a glimpse to get us pointed in the right direction. But that’s really all we need, because…
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What’s important is that we just keep putting one foot in front of the other, taking one step or one oar stroke at a time. Remember, it’s all about the journey. And…
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Don’t panic or lose heart when a storm comes up and you wonder why Jesus doesn’t seem to be coming to your rescue. Just as He SAW the Disciples in the darkness, His eye is on you too. And He will make His presence known, stepping into your boat right on time, stilling the storm, and delivering you safely to shore.
John 6:15 describes Jesus doing something so contrary to my experience, I simply stand in awe. When the crowds were determined to make Him their king, He literally walked away. He went the opposite direction – toward solitude and away from the cheers and adoration. In our current season of human history which is so obsessed with celebrity – with the quest for attention, acclaim, and fame at a fever pitch – the Lord’s actions here are stunning by contrast.
Now, I need to confess something. A couple of days ago, I posted one of these Bible study videos on my website, podcast, and social media. And over the next twenty-four hours, I caught myself checking for likes and comments every fifteen minutes it seemed. I was behaving like an addict. But once I was able to exercise enough self-control to stop, I began asking God why I craved these “hits” of affirmation so much. And I’m ashamed of the answer.
At first, I tried to convince myself that it was just due to being a little insecure about my identity since I recently retired from being a local church pastor after nearly forty years. Having had such clarity about my life and ministry for so long, I was feeling a little uncertain about my role in this world.
But the truth is, I wanted to be noticed. I wanted to be admired. I wanted to feel important, relevant, esteemed. Let me just call it what it is, pride, and not the good kind, the kind that’s focused on self-promotion. And get this, that’s what motivated Lucifer’s rebellion against God and ultimately is at the root of all evil. Yuck!
Now look, I believe the desires all of us have for significance and to be valued are God-given. And, dear one, He intends to fulfill them within the embrace of His relationship with us. But pride’s another thing altogether. It can NEVER be satisfied. And the more you feed it, the more it’s hunger grows.
Jesus understood this and refused to allow himself to be in a position where He could even be tempted by it. He was leading us by example. Matthew’s gospel says He withdrew from the spotlight at this moment of ecstatic popularity specifically to be alone with His Father in prayer.
And when we find ourselves in the crosshairs of the Spirit of Pride, we would be wise to do the same, turn and RUN to the throne of God. There’s something about being on our knees before the Sovereign of the Universe that puts things in perspective and escorts us into a deep place of security that pride can’t touch.
I’m talking to you right now after having spent time at the Lord’s feet regarding my sin described earlier. And as always, I discovered there His lavish grace to cover and cleanse. But I wonder. Do you find yourself being offered pride’s empty promises today? If so, don’t hesitate. Run to the Father right now.
John 6:13 surveys the aftermath of a miracle. And I’m just mesmerized by the simple statistics. Five loaves and two fish produced twelve baskets of food AFTER filling the bellies of five thousand men plus women and children.
Now, I think we need to take just a few moments to consider the implications of this.
Doesn’t it force us to reevaluate our faith? Did Jesus actually do this or not? If He did, how can it be so easy for us to just carry on with the routines of our lives without any expectation that He might want to invade our circumstances with His miraculous power?
The next verse, John 6:14, says that those who had front row seats for that miracle became believers on the spot. And wouldn’t you? So why is it possible for us to read the account of what happened and not be equally moved to belief?
Maybe it has to do with the way we casually read the biblical accounts of miracles as though they’re disconnected from our personal reality.
Perhaps I shouldn’t admit this, but I’m a bit of a Star Wars nerd. I love watching the Millennium Falcon travel through hyperspace in the films and imagining the lightsaber duals I read about in the books. But I’m well aware that these things only happen in a galaxy far, far away, not on the street where I live.
So, I have to ask myself, “Is that how I categorize the epic displays of the supernatural I read about in the Bible? Do I intellectually relegate them to another time and place?” If so, how do I square that with John 14:12 where Jesus said that after He returned to the Father, those who believe in Him would experience even greater works than He performed?
I don’t think the Lord could be clearer about His intentions to continue being who He is, the omnipotent God. Everything He does is miraculous, beyond the constraints of this natural world. He can’t be any other way. So, let’s get our expectations aligned with His attributes in this regard. If we want our miracle-working God to be active on the street where we live, it WILL involve miracles.
So, today, let’s allow Jesus to help us read the Bible differently, to see in its pages not some fantastic story of what happened once upon a time, but as a preview of what God is prepared to do right now.
John chapter 6 verse 12 graphically illustrates two important truths about God: He is both lavish AND frugal. He is both abundant with His grace AND meticulous with His care. Let me explain.
My wife and I are currently remodeling a home. And our contractor is continually asking us if we want this fixture, that color, this window, that door, this tile, or that trim. Frankly, it’s wearing us out. But we have to answer each of his questions with one of our own: “Can we afford it?” We only have so much money.
You know what I mean. Every resource we have as human beings is finite. We have a limited amount of time, talent, and treasure. And since this is our frame of reference, we tend to imagine God as though He’s in the same boat. And even if our theology is better than that, all of us experience times when we hesitate to bring our needs to Him because we feel like we may be pushing the limit of what He can afford. But God doesn’t have to stretch His supply or budget His benevolence.
The end of verse 11 and the first part of 12 tell us that Jesus didn’t stop multiplying the loaves and fish until everyone in the crowd had eaten all they WANTED and until they were FULL. He didn’t cheap out. He doesn’t have to. He’s the maker and master of all things. And when we come to Him with our needs, our requests are NOT evaluated against a limited supply. His gifts of every sort – spiritual, physical, and material – are abundant.
Now, don’t misunderstand. This verse is not licensing our GLUTTONY. It’s showcasing God’s SUFFICIENCY. But this is also juxtaposed against His ECONOMY which is illustrated when He commands the Disciples to gather up all the leftovers so that nothing is wasted.
And there’s clearly a lesson here about our need to exercise better care in how we manage what God gives us. But I think there’s even more.
Many of us know what it’s like to mourn the ways we have squandered the goodness of God in our pasts. And we imagine that those lost expressions of His love are irretrievable. But John 6:12 reveals a Savior who is concerned about discarded fragments. We have a God whose amazing grace is so powerful He can insure that nothing of His intentions for us are ultimately forsaken.
As C.S. Lewis wrote in The Great Divorce, “Heaven, once attained, will work backwards…The good man's past begins to change so that his forgiven sins and remembered sorrows take on the quality of Heaven…”
Dear one, today, bring your needs to our all-sufficient God, AND trust Him to carefully gather up all the pieces of your life you thought were lost.
The last half of John 6:11 describes how Jesus involved the Disciples in the loaves and fishes miracle. It says He distributed the multiplying food to the hungry people through them. The miraculous literally passed THROUGH their hands. They were conduits of wonder. I can’t even begin to imagine what an amazing experience that must have been for them.
But as someone who longs to be more USEUL when God is moving to meet people’s needs through displays of His power, I notice two things here that I find extremely helpful.
First, through the events of the preceding verses, Jesus made it clear to the Disciples that they were not responsible to MAKE the miracle happen. Neither THEIR money nor THEIR culinary skills were involved. It was ALL Jesus. Their role was to simply dispense what He was creating. They were like divine delivery-persons. UPS and FedEx drivers aren’t required to purchase or manufacture the items in their trucks. Their job is to just make sure the boxes get to the right address, ring the doorbell, and leave them on the porch.
So much pressure comes off when I understand that. Miracles are not up to me. My job is to lay hands the sick. It’s His to do the healing. My job is to speak the words of prophecy, knowledge, wisdom, and discernment HE gives. My job is to pray for the bound and broken-hearted. His is to deliver and comfort.
The second thing I see here is that the grand miracle of feeding the multitude unfolded in stages, mouthful by mouthful. The Disciples got to be involved in distributing a series of bite-sized miracles that altogether became something legendary.
Now, don’t misunderstand. A miracle is a miracle. The terms “large” and “small” do not really apply. And God can work massive miracles in an instant. But I’ve found that for the most part, He invites me to participate in a lot of little ones that accumulate over time into an amazing expression of His glory.
As an older man who has walked with God for a long time now, this is deeply moving to me. I look back over my life and rejoice with amazement at the times I’ve witnessed demonstrations of God’s explosive power. But I also cherish the cumulative weight of all those quieter ones. And I’ve come to understand the value of living in the daily expectation of a steady stream of God’s manifest power.
So, if you’re desperate today for a large, loud, and immediate miracle from heaven, we have a God who is more than able. But it may just be that His provision is on the way to your doorstep a box at a time. Don’t miss them.
The first part of John 6 verse 11 says that AFTER Jesus had received the loaves and fishes from the young man and BEFORE those meager provisions became bounty, He gave thanks.
Now, EVERYTHING Jesus said and did was intentional, purposeful, and strategic. Among other things, He was modeling for us what a life of faith looks like. So, it’s incredibly important to pay close attention to EVERY move He made and EVERY word He spoke.
There’s a reason He paused en route to a miracle of provision to first give thanks. And since I’m often in need of God’s supernatural provision, I want to understand why. What was He thankful for? I think it’s clear He was thankful for what He’d already been given – five loaves and two fish.
They weren’t nearly enough, but Jesus focused on what He’d been given, not on what was still needed. And there’s something extremely powerful about that heart-posture that opens the door for the Lord’s supernatural supply.
But to be honest, when I’m in need…of money, healing, wisdom, comfort, guidance…gratitude is not usually my response. In fact, quite the opposite. I’m far more likely to complain, expressing my impatience and even venting my anger than to be grateful.
And you know what I’ve found? Thanklessness is habit-forming, and it poisons my soul. So that when God in His faithfulness does supply my need, I’m more likely to think, “Well, it’s about time,” than to fall on my knees with praise for His goodness. And ultimately, I think that makes me less likely to even recognize the wonderful miracles He regularly performs on my behalf.
I wonder if that might be true for you too. What do you say we choose to survey the circumstances we’re in today noting with thankfulness what we’ve already been given instead of grumbling about what we still need? I wonder how that might change what happens next?
In John chapter 6 verse 10, we’re told that Jesus asked His disciples to instruct the crowd to be seated in the grassy field. And Mark’s gospel gives us the additional information that Jesus wanted the people to be seated in groups of fifties and hundreds. And Mark also takes the time to specifically tell us that they did as instructed.
Now, John 6:10 is easy to skip over on our way to the main event. But there’s no “filler” in the Bible. God never wastes words. And the importance of the principle contained here cannot be overstated. Jesus was setting the stage for a miracle. And if you think you might ever need one of those, pay attention.
He was preparing for the organized distribution of a large quantity of food. He was about to supernaturally multiply five loaves and two fish to feed 5,000 men plus women and children. But He was the only One who knew that. No one else there that day had ANY idea what was about to happen.
Just stop and think about that. The Disciples and the hungry crowd obeyed Jesus without even the slightest understanding of why He was asking or how their compliance could have anything to do with the meeting of their need.
And that’s the point. They did what He said simply because He said it. That’s what faith is ALL about: Trust-filled obedience. And displays of God’s miraculous power are nearly always preceded by an act of faith that rarely seems to be relevant to the need. Like when Jesus directed the servants at the wedding in Cana to fill six pots with water and take them to the master of the feast. They could NEVER have guessed that water would become wine. But their simple obedience facilitated an amazing miracle.
Or like the time, I responded to a very vague prompting I thought might be from the Lord. I was just folding the laundry at home one day when I sensed He was asking me to reach out to a young couple I’d heard about but hadn’t yet met and ask if they’d be interested in allowing me to mentor them in ministry. There was no way I could have known the miracle Jesus was setting up. At that time, I had no idea that my wife and I would soon be embarking on a new season of ministry assignment. And with the small step of obedience I exercised in contacting that couple, the Lord was arranging what became the miraculously smooth transition of pastoral leadership our church experienced when they succeeded me and my wife as senior pastors just eighteen months later.
Listen. If you need a miracle today, stop worrying about how in the world God is going to feed the multitudes. Instead, start looking for the nearest divine command you can obey. And if you draw a blank, consider opening the Bible, it’s full of them. Your step of child-like obedience, whatever it looks like to you, will place in the Lord’s hands the loaves and fishes He can work with to do something wonderful.
Last time, we talked about how John 6 verses 5 and 6 show Jesus using a need – the hunger of thousands – to test faith. We learned that when God allows our faith to be challenged, His purpose is to INCREASE our spiritual health not deplete it. And we also learned that our Lord is ALWAYS in control of a trial’s outcome. He can be fully trusted.
Now, verses 7 through 9 reveal three different types of response to this test of faith. Let’s see if we can find ourselves in them, and by comparing, discover a better way to handle the faith-trials WE encounter.
Jesus had posed a question. “How are we going to feed all these people?” And the first response came from Philip. He whipped out his calculator, did the math, and reported to Jesus that there was no way they could AFFORD to buy anywhere close to enough food. He focused on the size of the need and said, “It’s too big.”
Next up was Andrew. He came to Jesus with five barley loaves and two small fish he’d gotten from a kid who’d brought a lunch with him that day. But then, he asked his own question, “What are they among so many?” You see, he was focused on himself and was saying, “I don’t have enough.”
But there’s another person involved in this episode, the boy with the lunch. And although the text doesn’t specifically say so, it clearly implies that this young man freely offered his loaves and fishes. They weren’t taken from him, they were given. And by doing so, he was demonstrating that he was focused on Jesus, and by his actions, saying, “I believe You can do anything.”
Oh, the faith of a child!
Dear Lord, when I next face a need that tests my faith, may my response be the simple childlike trust demonstrated by that young man. May my choice be not to focus on the size of the need or my own limited resources to meet it. Help me instead, to trust in the greatness of Who you are. May my heart’s cry be, “You can do anything!”
John chapter 6 verse 5 moves us into the “loaves and fishes” narrative. A massive crowd of 5,000 men plus women and children was approaching. And when Jesus saw the multitude, He asked one of the Disciples a question: “How are we going to feed all these people?”
Then, verse 6 tells us two very important things WE should remember whenever WE encounter a need that has the potential to overwhelm us whether it’s spiritual, physical, financial, or relational.
First, we’re told the Lord was using it as a test. Need always does that – tests our faith. And although these trials can seriously rock our world and challenge us to our core, God’s purpose in allowing them is NEVER to disqualify or defeat us. It’s always to reveal both how far He’s already brought us and to expose areas of trust He wants to help us grow into.
It’s like the gym that a friend of mine manages. All day, every day, people walk through his doors determined to put their bodies to the test. They pay my friend’s company for the opportunity to be challenged with weights, machines, and instructors for the benefit of seeing their health, strength and fitness increase.
In the same way, the Bible tells us to REJOICE when our faith is tested because it’s increasing our spiritual health. God is using it for our good.
The second thing verse 6 tells us is that Jesus knew in advance what He was going to do. The outcome was NEVER in doubt. God is in control. And oh, how good is that! As believers, these what-in-the-world-am-going-to-do kind of situations always reach us through the filter of God’s love, mercy, and grace. We square off against them in an environment managed by the power of the Sovereign God. As His kids, we are never – and I repeat, NEVER – in jeopardy.
Now, I can’t know what kind of need may be testing you today. But Jesus does. And as challenging as it may seem, remember these soul-securing truths. One, if you let Him, your Savior will use it to strengthen your faith muscles. And two, Jesus already has a rock-solid plan for meeting that need.
Trust Him!
John chapter 6 opens with an account of the occasion when Jesus fed thousands of people with only five loaves and two fish. Pretty exciting stuff! But before going any further, I’d like to focus on just the first three words of verse one, “After these things…” Why? Because there’s ALWAYS a backstory. And this phrase lets us know there’s a context for what follows.
The first four verses of the chapter set up the “loaves and fishes” story by giving us the time of year and the location where it happened. We’re told that it was springtime just before Passover and in a deserted area across the Sea of Galilee.
But by saying, “after these things,” John lets us know there’s even more to the story and implies that we should consider these additional details. He makes it clear they’re worth digging for.
And we don’t have to search far. The other three Gospels – especially Mark – fill in the six-month gap between John chapters five and six. And we find out that there was a reason Jesus had taken His disciples across the lake. He was leading them to a wilderness area for some rest. They were all dealing with the emotional impact of John the Baptist being beheaded by Herod. The Disciples had just returned from their first ministry tours and needed debriefing. And the intensifying of Jesus’s miracle ministry was creating so much activity that we’re told they didn’t even have time to eat.
So that’s why they crossed the lake. And it makes a difference to know that, doesn’t it?
In a very crude way, it’s like this sign here. Unless you take the time to stop and read it, you probably wouldn’t give this tree a second thought. But if you do, you find out that it was brought to this island by a sea captain from a distant port and planted here more than a hundred and fifty years ago. There’s a backstory. And digging for it makes a difference in how you see the tree.
And that’s true for people too. There’s ALWAYS a backstory.
But we usually interact with others based on the superficial. We rarely stop to even think that there may be more to consider.
And this is especially true for how we relate to ourselves. We waste so much of our emotional resources focused on our surface issues instead of asking Jesus, “What’s the backstory here?” But if we did, we’d be much more likely to discover the context for what He’s trying to deal with in our lives and be better able to cooperate with Him as He brings us healing and deliverance.
So, I encourage you today, when you find yourself wrestling with the “stuff” in your life – and you know what I mean – ask the Lord to help you see the backstory. Stop ignoring the real issues while whining about what you think God should be doing to help you but isn’t. And be willing instead to stop and read the signs that reveal how these things got rooted in your life in the first place. Then, you’ll be better able to allow the Lord to set you up for what comes “after these things.”
In John 5 verses 33-47, Jesus concludes the argument He was making to the religious leaders regarding His claim to be the Son of God by identifying four unassailable witnesses that had already testified on His behalf: John the Baptist, the miracles He performed, God the Father, and the Old Testament Scriptures.
For those who resisted breaking with the pack to embrace his Lordship, Jesus was reminding them that none other than the universally respected John the Baptist had publicly declared Him the Son of God, staking his own reputation on the truth of that statement.
For those who refused to believe without tangible proof, He reminded them that THEY had seen His miracles with their OWN eyes.
For those who were stubbornly withholding faith unless the heavens opened and they heard God speak in an audible voice, He reminded them that they had been personally present as that exact thing happened when He was baptized by John.
For those who were clinging to their skepticism until there was theological agreement on the subject, He pointed out that the Holy Scriptures speak clearly of Him and affirm His divinity throughout.
And that brings us to verse 40 where Jesus says, “But you were not WILLING to come to Me that you may have life.”
Placing faith in Jesus for salvation, or anything else for that matter, is really never about convincing arguments, proofs, and evidence no matter what anyone says. It’s always about a WILLINGNESS to trust Him. And Jesus promises here that this simple act of surrender is what opens the door to the life we long for. So, why are people, including you and me, so often UNWILLING?
Well, I’ll just speak for myself. Taking ANY step of faith, requires that I confront the desire of my sinful nature to maintain CONTROL. But faith is the exact opposite of control, isn’t it? Trusting Jesus with my health, finances, marriage, career – let alone my eternal destiny – means being WILLING to release the control of those things to Him, believing there is no better place for them than in His hands.
But that’s the issue, right? Do we really believe that?
It’s hard for me to admit this in the face of the overwhelming evidence of my Lord’s love, faithfulness, and power. He has NEVER failed me. Still, there are times I hesitate to trust my cares to Him. And perhaps that’s true for you too.
If so, let’s agree today, to come to Him WILLINGLY releasing all our concerns to Him that we may know life as He intends.
In the final section of John chapter 5, we have a kind of courtroom drama playing out. Jesus, like a skillful defense attorney presenting His final argument before the Jewish religious leaders, details the weighty testimonial evidence for His claim to be the Son of God.
He begins in verse 31 by acknowledging that according to their Law which required two independent witnesses to establish the truth of a matter, serving as His own witness is insufficient. That’s what He means when He says, “My witness is not true.” He doesn’t mean that He’s telling a lie. He’s simply agreeing that under their system, His personal testimony alone is not enough.
So, over the remainder of the chapter, He reminds them of the powerful testimony they’ve already heard from not just two, but FOUR INDISPUTABLE witnesses. And in verse 32, before elaborating in detail later in the passage, He teases them with some of what is coming when He says, “There is another who bears witness of me.” A clear and unequivocal reference to God, the Father.
And reading those words again yesterday caused my throat to tighten with emotion and my eyes to tear up as I was reminded of the forceful impact of the testimony of my Heavenly Father in the recurring case of the Devil’s suit against my salvation. It seems that almost daily Satan attempts to call into question the right to consider myself a child of God. And he skillfully introduces as evidence all the dirt he continues digging up from the remains of my sinfulness.
And it can be VERY convincing. When the fruits of my wickedness are paraded through the courtroom of my soul, I can often find my personal witness to God’s grace losing ground against the testimony of my sinful past.
But…“There is another who bears witness of me.”
God has declared in John 1:12 that because I have placed my faith in Jesus, I have been given LEGAL standing as a child of God. And Romans 8:16 says, “The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God.”
So, if you find yourself today being tempted by the “Accuser” to doubt your place in God’s family because of something he dredged up from your past, remember 1 John 1:9. “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and JUST to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from ALL unrighteousness.”
Case closed.
In John 5 verse 30, Jesus says that His assignment as divine judge, which He described in the preceding verses, is administered solely on the basis of instructions He receives from the Father. And in that context, He makes this incredible statement: “I can of Myself do nothing.”
Now of course, as God incarnate, Jesus possessed everything required – authority, power, wisdom, knowledge – to do anything. But He makes clear that in His role as our redeemer, He specifically and purposefully chose not to act independent of the Father. Philippians 2 verses 5-11 describe His submission in detail and declare that IT is the reason ultimately every knee will bow and tongue confess that He is Lord.
So, Jesus’ words here in John 5:30 are extremely significant. And I think that’s especially true of the last half of the verse where He says that because He seeks the will of the Father and not His own, His judgment is righteous.
Now THAT forces me to consider how I judge other people.
All day, every day, I pass judgment on those I hear, see, meet, and interact with. I can’t help it. And neither can you. We are instinctively wired to evaluate others on the fly. Have you ever heard a stranger’s voice on a podcast, radio show, or phone call and determined what their appearance, personality, and motivation must be like even though you’ve never met them? We all do that. It’s a human trait that I suppose is a form of self-protection. But I’ll bet you’ve noticed that it’s almost never accurate.
The prejudgments I make of people almost always turn out to be wrong once I actually get to know them. And if you’ve ever been unfairly judged yourself, you know it feels terrible and is often very hard to change.
I once rented a home from a guy who for some unknown reason just decided he didn’t like me. And nothing I did to try and change his mind was ever successful. He just doggedly clung to his false initial impression of me no matter what, and I could not overcome his skepticism and mistrust. So, I eventually had to move out.
I don’t want to do that to others. But I do. Like the obviously homeless woman I passed on the street the other day. Based on her appearance alone, I created an entire profile of her in my mind. A pretty negative one I must add. How unfair was that? And, a few minutes later, when I realized what I’d done, I had to confess my sin to God and repent of it. So, I’d like to discover a better – more righteous – way to handle this aspect of life. And, as always, Jesus points the way.
He said the key to righteous judgment is seeking God’s will not my own. In other words, if I will simply start choosing to see others through the lens of his desires for them instead of through my own fears and prejudices, my perspective will become more like His. I want to do that, don’t you? And what a better world this would be if everyone did?
In John 5 verses 27-29, Jesus describes His role as our judge. In the preceding two verses He referred to Himself as the Son of God who can right now offer spiritual life to those dead in their sins if they will simply respond to His voice calling them to faith. But here, as He describes a future occasion when His voice will call all those who have died physically to either a “resurrection of life” or a “resurrection of condemnation,” He says His authority to execute this judgment is on the basis of what the Father has given Him as the Son of Man. And this change in title is worth noting.
Jesus is both Son of God and Son of Man. He is fully divine and fully human. And this is what uniquely qualifies Him to be both eternal-life-giver, and judge. As Son of God, He personally paid the penalty for our sin so we could have the payment of His suffering and death applied to our record by faith. And as Son of Man, He victoriously stared down every kind of temptation and has first-hand knowledge of every form of human experience so that as judge, He alone has the righteous authority to administer it.
When those who have refused to receive His offer of salvation during their lifetimes stand before Him on that future day of judgment, there will be no excuse, no alibi, no defense. But if you’re hearing me say this, that doesn’t have to be your story.
In verse 29, there’s a very wonderful and hope-filled use of two different Greek words that are often translated by the same English word, “done,” or “did.” Jesus says that the resurrections of life and condemnation are the result of having “done” good or “done” evil. But, He’s not saying that a person’s eternal destiny is based on whether or not they’ve racked up sufficient good-works points. Ephesian 2:8 & 9 make this crystal clear.
The word translated, “done,” in the first instance describes a one-time act. In the second, the word is about something habitually done. The Lord is saying that with one act, placing our faith in His saving grace, we can insure our “resurrection of life” and wipe out the consequences of habitually turning our backs on Him.
Now that’s good news! If you haven’t yet, receive it. And if you have, share it.
In John 5 verse 24, after emphatically declaring to the Jewish leaders that He is co-equal with the Heavenly Father, Jesus goes on to say that FOR anyone who responds to His message by believing in the Father, three things become true: Something has already happened, something will never happen, and something is happening right now. But before we look a little closer at these, let’s make sure we understand what He meant by believing in the Father.
The Greek word translated as, “believes,” in this verse, is a word that conveys more than just concluding that the design of a chair, for instance, could support your weight. This word is about the action that FLOWS from that conclusion and results in actually putting your butt in the seat. It’s about trust, and trust that results in commitment.
Jesus was calling these leaders, everyone overhearing that conversation, and all who have heard these words since to take action on what they’ve heard and place the full weight of their faith on Him. And if that describes you, I’ve got some excellent news.
First, you have already, as Jesus said, “passed from death into life.” The spiritual death that was the result of your sin is now behind you – forgiven, cleansed, covered – and up ahead as far as you can see is the gift of life that God gives His kids.
Second, you will never experience judgement, not now, or at any time in the future. No matter how hard the Devil may try to bring you under condemnation, according to Romans 8 verse 1, that shame no longer has your name on it.
And third, you ARE living in the stream of “everlasting life” right now. And Jesus wasn’t just talking about its duration – how long it lasts. He was talking about the type of life it is. This verse employs the Greek word, zoe, which the New Testament uses to describe the kind of life God has – deeper, richer in every way than mere existence or anything this world can offer.
All of this is yours as a result of your faith in Christ. Dear one, live every minute of this day in the awareness of that.
OH! And if by chance you haven’t yet become a believer, what are you waiting for? Put your butt in the seat.
I’m not sure how it’s possible to become even more angry with someone after you’ve reached the point of wanting to kill them, but that’s the state of outrageous agitation the religious leaders had reached regarding Jesus. They had already issued a death sentence for His healing of a sick man on the Sabbath. But John 5 verse 18 informs us that they were even more ticked off at His clear claim of equality with God.
And Jesus refused to back down from this. For the next five verses, Jesus declared in no uncertain terms that EVERYTHING He did and said was an EXACT reflection of the Heavenly Father and that He should be honored in the same way the Father is.
And there you have it. That’s why the Jewish elite was so mad. It was impossible for them to remain ambivalent about the question of who Jesus was. The testimony of His life was crowding them toward a decision point – one they were violently resisting. Because to embrace the truth of His divinity would have required that they surrender to His Lordship. And that’s what made their blood boil.
However, for the rest of us, there’s WONDERFUL news here. Jesus is God! Everything the Gospels reveal about Jesus that move us to fall so deeply in love with Him are EXACTLY true of the Father as well. There is NO difference. And this is incredibly important and healing on many levels, especially for those who have trouble relating to the Heavenly Father because of the failures of their earthly ones.
As someone who has spent my life caring for the wounded souls of people, I’ve seen first-hand the damage a dad can do by his words and deeds even if unintentionally. The Devil LOVES to exploit a man’s brokenness to inflict painful scars on his children and thereby cause them to recoil from the love of God. What better way for Satan to keep someone imprisoned in their hurt than to emotionally cut them off from the only One who can free them.
But Jesus is the answer. He put on display the father-heart of God. The closer we examine His life, the more we see of what God is really like and the more any barriers melt away.
So, if you’ve been victimized by this strategy of the Enemy to prevent you from experiencing the healing embrace of the Lover of Your Soul, let me stand with you today as we welcome the Son to introduce you to the Father.
In John chapter 5 verse 17, Jesus responds to the Jewish religious leaders who have determined that He deserves the death penalty because He healed a man on the Sabbath Day. And He does so by making two things clear. One, that He is the Son of God. And two, that He was only doing what His Father has been and continues doing: working.
Yes, Genesis, the first book of the Bible, tells us that God rested on the seventh day. And no, Jesus wasn’t undermining the example God was setting by that or the commands and vital principals of Sabbath-keeping. But He was stating the obvious: that on the seventh day, God rested from His creation work, but not from being the God whose ongoing activity sustains all things.
In other words, Jesus was reminding them that the throne of God is not a lounge chair.
And in doing so, He was silencing the lie that God is somehow disconnected, unconcerned, or uninvolved with us. Contrary to those who imagine God like a divine watch-maker who wound up His creation, let it go, and then moved on to another project, Jesus was describing God as intensely engaged with His universe. And it’s clear from the context, that He meant for us to understand that God never ceases to be interested in, involved with, and engaged with us.
Now, behind me is a construction project. New homes are being built in my neighborhood. But as you can see the construction workers have all gone home after putting in their day's labor.
God is not like that. He's never off the job.
Now I know, because I’m a target of the Devil’s lies just like you, that we can frequently be subjected to the temptation to feel like God has abandoned us or at least has temporarily lost interest in what we’re facing or going through. But that is not the truth, and that’s exactly why John 5:17 is so important to hang onto.
Our Savior stood up in the face of the murderous persecution of the Scribes and Pharisees to emphatically declare that no matter what, He is continually and purposefully working on our behalf. Let's allow that assurance to dispel every shadow of doubt about our Savior's presence and engagement with us today.
In John chapter 5 verse 16, we’re told flatly that the Jewish religious elite wanted to kill Jesus. And we’re also told why. It was because He had healed a sick man on the Sabbath.
Now let me get this straight. The RELIGIOUS leaders wanted to KILL Jesus because He HEALED a man who had be sick for 38 years on the wrong day of the week? What am I missing here?
Now, I know that Sabbath-keeping is an important thing with God. You can’t read past the second chapter in the Bible without discovering that He’s so serious about it that He personally modeled it. But it’s also clear that God meant Sabbath to be a blessing to us not a curse. In fact, Jesus said, “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.” God gave us the GIFT of one day out of every seven set aside purely for spiritual renewal, physical rest, relational restoration, emotional recovery, and intellectual recalibration.
So, how did something so GOOD for us become so twisted?
Well, like everything religionists get their hands on, Sabbath had been embellished with layers upon layers of regulations God never intended. And they exploited these rules as a means of exercising control over people. And that’s the key word, control. Everything Jesus did threatened the control the religious leaders were attempting to hold over people.
That kind of control is a bad thing, and Jesus will always be a threat to it. I know because He came after it in my life.
Now, please, don’t get me wrong. I love my birth family. But all families have some measure of dysfunction, and one of the symptoms of ours was that we could never seem to get anywhere on time. And I clearly remember being dropped off late again for baseball practice one day when I was about nine years old. And as I walked to the field knowing I would have to apologize to my coach and teammates again for being late, I remember saying to myself, “When I have control, I will never be late again!”
And that vow set in motion decades of drivenness and controlling behavior that eventually would bring me to the brink of losing my marriage, family, health, and ministry had not my loving Lord squared-off against it in my life. All those years before, I had given place to something that was ruining me along with everything and everyone I loved. The control I had become so proud of exercising was really a spirit that was controlling me.
It’s a long, but beautiful story how Jesus confronted and set me free from the spirit of control that I won’t take the time now to tell. But if the little I’ve said sounds at all familiar to your own life, please, dear one, don’t wait another minute. Come in prayer with humble repentance to the One who is ready to release you from this bondage, and invite the Lord of the Sabbath to bring rest to your soul.
We’ve been considering the account in the first fifteen verses of John chapter five regarding the man at the Pool of Bethesda. Remember, this was a man who had been sick for thirty-eight years – not really dying, but not really living either. Then, just like He does for each of us, Jesus showed up with an invitation for him to trade his brokenness for wholeness. But, He said the restoration process would require three things of the sick man. First, He told him, “rise,” then, “take up your bed,” and after that, “walk.”
And now, having previously looked at the first two, let’s take a close look at this last one and what it means for anyone who wants to receive Christ’s gift of wholeness and begin to truly LIVE.
There are a couple of things I’d like to focus on. To start with, Jesus was inviting the man to choose to step forward into the rest of his life – the life he was made for.
But why would he even have to say this?
Because it doesn’t come naturally. Although the passage doesn’t say so explicitly, it clearly implies that this man had never walked before. And we’ve already talked about the human tendency to prefer a known past to an unknown future. So, let’s not miss the point that living whole is a moment-by-moment CHOICE to do the IMPOSSIBLE, to defy gravity in the power of our Savior. Like the man at the pool, it’s not something any of us has ever done before. And we simply don’t know how.
But, Jesus is making it clear that it’s just like walking – putting one foot in front of the other – taking one step at time. It’s not about arriving somewhere. It’s about starting a journey, one that involves discovery, development, and delight with every footfall. And we cannot afford to skip even one of them. Even when the route isn’t a straight line, we don’t have to figure out where it leads. All we have to do is keep our eyes on Jesus and WALK. He can be trusted with everything else.
But there’s another thing.
As the man from the pool began to move forward in his healing, he was immediately confronted by the Jewish leaders telling him he was breaking their religious law by carrying his bed on the Sabbath. And that’s exactly the kind of thing that happens to everyone who chooses to step across the threshold from brokenness to wholeness. Our healing WILL be challenged and FEROCIOUSLY, because the Devil cannot afford to have God’s people actually living in freedom. It poses such a threat to his strategies that he is always quick and loud with his opposition.
Should that make us afraid? Heck, no! The Bible says that the battle is the Lord’s not mine, and He’s already won it. So even when the enemy roars at us with his temptations, condemnations, and accusations, all we need to do is WALK – walk right past him one step after another into the glorious life Christ is releasing us into.
And I love the fact that as the formerly-sick-but-now-healed man shouldered his way past his accusers choosing to obey his healer rather than surrender to their threats, he ran right into Jesus who was there to meet him in the temple on the other side of that opposition.
And dear one, I believe that will be true for you too. No matter what may challenge your wholeness today, just take one step at a time and walk right by, through, or over it. You’ll find that Jesus is on the other side.
Alright, let’s continue our consideration of Jesus’ healing of the man at the pool of Bethesda. And let’s remember that after 38 years of sickness, this man was clearly not dying, but he wasn’t really living either. So, Jesus entered the scene of his brokenness, and in the form of a simple question, offered him the opportunity to be restored to his intended state.
Then, in John five verse eight, the Lord gave him three steps to wholeness. And the first of these was to “rise,” which we discussed last time.
After that, Jesus said, “take up your bed…” In other words, he tells him that if he wants to experience true healing, he’s going to have to pack up his campsite.
For many years now, I’ve enjoyed watching a reality TV show called, “Survivor.” The contestants try to avoid being eliminated from the game until there are only three players left. Then, those who’ve been forced to leave the game, vote for a winner from the three survivors. But before that vote, the final three players will almost always burn down the camp they’ve been living in during the game. And they do that as a dramatic statement of the fact that they will not be coming back.
Something very similar is embedded in the Lord’s statement here. He’s telling the man that if he’s going to actually LIVE in the healing being offering, he’s going to have to eliminate the possibility of coming back to Bethesda.
Why is this important? Because we all prefer the security of a KNOWN past – even if it’s uncomfortable – over the uncertainties of an UNKNOWN future. And for this man who has been sick his entire life, a future of wholeness – as desirable as it may be – is filled with uncertainties. So, unless he removes the possibility, in those times when his healing is challenged in some way, he will be vulnerable to the temptation to return to the twisted familiarity of what he knows.
Now there’s also the issue of identity. I think it’s clear by what this man says to Jesus that he had come to see himself through the lens of his unhealth, and had begun to define himself by it. You know, there’s a huge difference between someone thinking of themselves as a person who HAS a struggle with alcohol and as someone who IS an alcoholic. And the Devil has a lot of expertise for exploiting our issues and convincing us to label ourselves by them. And that make us less available to healing.
In a sense, Jesus is telling him that as long as he has his sick bed to go back to, he will be vulnerable to the temptation to think of himself AS sick instead of as a man who HAD an illness but is now whole.
On top of that, every form of human brokenness has a support structure that’s been built around it: Like friends and family who enable the unhealth, habits that have developed, distorted assumptions, etc. And unless that structure is dismantled, the gravitational pull can be overwhelming. For instance, if a person is freed by Jesus from a pornography addiction, unless that person is also willing to tear down their well-worn pathways for accessing porn, it will be too easy to slide back into the familiar.
So, we have before us a critical component in the process of healing Jesus wants to bring to your life and mine. Just like the man at the pool, He’s asking if we want to be made well. And if so, He says it will REQUIRE us to be ruthless about cutting off every route back to brokenness.
Are YOU ready to take up YOUR bed? Dear one, Jesus is with you right now, and ready to give you the clarity, the courage, and the strength you need to do it.
In John chapter 5 verses 6 through 8, Jesus approaches a man who’s been sick for 38 years – not really dying, but not really living either – not really experiencing the life God intended for him. And Jesus asks him if he’d like to be made well. Now, the King James version of the Bible uses the word, whole, here instead of the word, well. And although, either word is appropriate, I like the King James better because wholeness carries with it the idea of being restored to the intended state. And in my view, that’s the sense of the original Greek here.
So, picture this. Jesus walks up to a guy who has apparently spent his entire life in a condition of brokenness, and the Lord asks Him if he would like to be made whole.
Wow! I think the offer of complete restoration implied in that simple question is just astounding to consider. And what’s even more amazing than that is to realize that this is exactly the same question/offer Jesus is making to each of us.
He steps onto the scene of our life’s devastation, looks us in the eye, and asks us if we want to be restored to our intended state. Dear God! How amazing is His love!
But look at the man’s reply. He’s been asked a yes or no question, “Do you want to be made well?” But he doesn’t answer with a simple, “yes.” He answers with an excuse for remaining in his brokenness and offers an explanation for why he can’t be made whole.
O my goodness. Is that like us or what!
He tells Jesus that there are conditions and circumstances sourced outside of himself that prevent him from being healed. “I can’t walk, so I can’t get to the water when it’s moving. I don’t have anyone to help me. Others push me out of the way.”
And isn’t that how we often respond to our Savior’s offer of restoration? We say, “I can never be whole because of what my father did to me.” “I can’t live the life I was made for because I never received the educational opportunities others had, because I don’t have enough money, because I have this disability, because this or that agency, organization, government, or person screwed me over. And our list goes on and on.
But Jesus is still standing there asking a simple yes or no question. “Do you want to be made whole?”
And in spite of the man’s all-too-human response, Jesus offers him three steps to recovery.
And the first of these is, “Rise.”
He’s asking the man to stop excusing himself and simply receive the healing being offered. And I believe some of you may be hearing the same thing from your Savior right now. “Rise.”
I know it sounds like He’s asking you to do something impossible. And it is…for you. But NOT for Him.
Dear one, stop making excuses for your brokenness or blaming it on someone or something outside yourself. Take His hand right now and RISE!
In John chapter 5 verses 1-15, we have the record of Jesus healing a man at the pool of Bethesda. In the setup, we’re told that Jesus was in Jerusalem to attend one of the Jewish feasts, and that while He was there, he visited a pool where sick people were brought hoping to be healed by its waters.
Verses 3 and 4 say that a “great multitude” or a large number of people with a variety of illnesses was perpetually gathered there waiting for the water to be stirred up with the belief that if they were the first into the pool following one of these stirrings, they would be healed.
We’re also told that this periodic movement of the water was caused by the action of an angel. But please note that it does NOT say that God was behind this. In fact, there’s nothing in either the testimony of the Bible or the ministry of Jesus to support the idea that we have a God who toys with people like that. On the other hand, that’s exactly the kind of thing Satan would do.
Now, I think it’s clear that this was a situation where the Devil was cruelly exploiting people’s superstitions by preying on their desperation. The Greek word translated here as, “angel,” simply means, messenger. But, the Bible uses it for both God’s angelic messengers and Satan’s demons. And it’s the context of the specific Scripture passage that clarifies which one is meant. And I think that based on what I’ve already said, the word is used here to describe demonic action.
I think it’s highly likely that somewhere in the history of this place that a mythology began to develop about its healing qualities. There are many places that have a similar healing mythology even in our world today. And they attract people who have no other hope. I think the waters of Bethesda would periodically be stirred up by demons just to keep this false hope alive to torment people.
Now with that understanding as the background, we’re introduced in verse five to a man Jesus is going to heal. And what I’d like us to consider as we begin our examination of this event in Jesus’ ministry, is that this man is clearly not dying. He’s been sick for 38 years. But more importantly, he’s not really living either. And I have a feeling that you may be able to relate to that. I know I can.
I know what it’s like to be alive but not really living, not experiencing the life Jesus meant for me. And if that sounds familiar to you too, get ready. The passage before us is going to reveal how we can see our Savior turn that around. And I invite you to meet here next time to start that journey.
The final nine verses of John chapter four provide us with the record of Jesus healing the nobleman’s son. And among other things, it teaches us a very important lesson about faith.
There are actually three types of faith on display in this passage.
The first is what I call “what-have-I-got-to-lose” faith. And it’s based on what Jesus might do. It’s the kind of faith the nobleman exercised when he traveled all the way from Capernaum to Cana to see if Jesus could help his dying son. And it’s the kind of faith that motivates our desperate prayers for help when we find ourselves facing challenging circumstances. It’s not very deeply rooted, but it is a form of faith most of us can relate to.
Another of the kinds of faith on display in this account is what I call “what-an-amazing-God-we-have” faith. And it’s based on what Jesus has done. It’s the kind of faith described in verse 53 and experienced by the nobleman after receiving the news that his son had been healed. This is the kind of exultant, shout-it-from-the-rooftop faith we all hope to experience as we rejoice in the answer to a prayer. It’s an easy kind of faith that erupts unbidden from our grateful hearts.
And all of us hope that we will be able to jump directly from “what-have-I-got-to-lose” faith to “what-an-amazing-God-we-have” faith. We want our desperate cries to God to always result in immediate and triumphant answers to our prayers.
But most of the time, a third type of faith needs to be exercised in the space between the other two. I call it “what-am-I-going-to-do” faith. And it’s based on what Jesus has said. It’s the kind of faith the nobleman exercised when he chose to obey Jesus’s command to return home trusting to be true what Jesus said about his son having been healed. This is a much more mature faith, and demands more of us spiritually. But it’s the kind of faith God is always seeking to develop in us when we face life’s trials.
I can’t know what types of challenges you’re facing today. But I do know that they provide you with an opportunity to hold tightly to God’s Word, to trust it, to act on it, and to discover what an amazing God we have.
In John chapter 4 verses 43-45, we see that after Jesus had spent a couple of days with the Samaritans, He continued His journey northward to his home REGION. But, there’s a glaring omission in this passage. It says He returned to His home REGION of Galilee, but it doesn’t say that He went to His home TOWN of Nazareth. But, we ARE told why He may have chosen not to go to there.
Verse 44 quotes Jesus as having said that a prophet is not honored in his “own country.” And that phrase, “own country,” is used in the Gospels of Matthew and Mark specifically as a reference to Nazareth. And in those passages, we’re told that Jesus couldn’t do many miracles there because of the unbelief of the people. And that unbelief was specifically due to their inability to accept that Jesus was more than just the local carpenter’s son, Mary’s boy, the kid down the street. Their expectations of Him were small because they had a limited definition of Him.
Now, their constrained view of Him didn’t really limit His power. But it did limit their ability to benefit from His power.
I’m in Honolulu, Hawaii on vacation. And I’ve been coming here at least once a year since 1996. That’s when I made more first trip here to speak in a conference. And I fell in love…with the people, the culture, the music, the pace, the climate, and the natural beauty. And most importantly, I found that of all the places I’ve been in this world, Hawaii is a place where I can truly rest. I’m not exactly sure why, and it may all be just in my head, but nonetheless, it’s become very important to me for that reason.
But, for the first 40 years of my life, I didn’t benefit from the power of this place. And that was specifically because of my limited definition of Hawaii. I considered it a place for surfers and sun-bathers. And since I’m not either of those, I couldn’t imagine why I would I want to come here.
So, needless to say, I’m deeply grateful to God for arranging for me to have my definition of Hawaii expanded so I could receive the blessings of this place.
And that makes me wonder, have I defined Jesus in a small, narrow, or constrained way that limits my ability to benefit from all He wants to do in my life? And the answer is, of course I have. The magnitude of our Savior is beyond description. So, any way I imagine Him is less than He truly is. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have my awareness of His greatness expanded. And THAT’S my goal for today. Jesus, help me embrace more of who you are.
In John chapter 4 verse 35, Jesus asked His disciples a question. He said, “Don’t you guys have a saying, ‘There are still four months, and then comes the harvest?’” And then He went on to say, “But I say to you, lift up your eyes and look at the fields. They are already white for harvest.” And of course, He was talking about the crowds of people that were right at that very moment on their way to Him from the city of Sycar to hear Him preach the gospel. And right away, it’s clear that Jesus sees the harvest of souls differently than most of us do.
Most of us, when we think about the people in the circles of our lives’ influence coming to faith, we think of it as a future event, something we are still working toward, that are we still planting, and watering, and feeding, and pruning. There’s work to be done. But Jesus said, “No.” He said, “Others have sown, others have labored. You get to reap. The harvest is now.”
Now the other day, one of my grandsons who’s almost three was with me. And I asked him to show me the vegetable garden that had helped his other set of grandparents plant on a fenced off area on their property. And so, we were on our way walking there. And getting close enough that I could see the rows of vegetables and flowers even though we weren’t close enough for me to see the signs that indicated which variety was which, I could tell the tomato plants. And I could see that there were a lot of green tomatoes. And I thought to myself, “You know, they’re going to have a sizable harvest of tomatoes in a little bit.”
And right about that point, my grandson who’d been walking right by my side, took off like a bolt of lightning and ran for those tomato plants. And before I knew it, he’d grabbed hold of the only red, ripe tomato in the bunch, pulled it off the plant, and ate it in about three bites. And I was like stunned. I thought, “Woah! Did I just witness my grandson eat a tomato of his own free will without being forced to?” And then, when I got passed the shock of that little statistic, I thought, “You know, I never even saw the red tomato.” But my grandson, that’s the only one he saw.
I think that when Jesus surveys the planting of His gospel garden He tends to focus on the red ones. I want to do more of that too.