John 20:24-31 • An Evidence-Based Faith

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.

John 20:19-23 • His Sobering Offer of Grace

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.

John 20:17b-18 • It Continues to Speak

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 20:17a • A Little Too Clingy

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. But 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.

John 20:11-16 • Until He Spoke Her Name

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 20:1-10 • A Progression of Perception

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.”

John 20:1 • Point of View

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 • Joe and Nick

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.

John 19:31-37 • Fine-tuned to Inspire Faith

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.

John 19:28-30 • The Divine Completer

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.

John 19:25-27 • Boundary-Marking Words

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.

John 19:23-24 • The Jots and Tittles

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.

John 19:17-22 • The One in the Center

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."

John 19:12-16 • Signposts

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.

John 19:6-11 • The Source of All Authority

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.

John 19:1-5 • Behold the Man

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 • From One Barabbas to Another

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.

John 18:33-38 • The Sound of His Voice

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.

John 18:28-32 • The Divinely Designed Endpoint

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.

John 18:12-27 • The Allure of the Campfire

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.