John 13:31-32 • An Avalanche of Glory

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.

John 13:22-30 • A Disciple Whom Jesus Loves

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.

John 13:18-21 • Overcoming Relational Betrayal

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.

John 13:12-17 • We Were Made for This

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.

John 13:6-11 • Verbally Processing

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.

John 13:4-5 • The Things Servants Do

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.

John 13:3 • The Things Servants Know

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 a 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.

John 13:1-2 • A Zero-Sum Game

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.

John 12:44-50 • A Call to Faith

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.

John 12:42-43 • It Shouts into Our Doubts

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.

John 12:37-41 • Beyond Observing to Seeing

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.”

John 12:35-36 • The Brilliant Glow of Belief

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.

John 12:31-34 • Lifted up

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.”

John 12:27-30 • Our Light Affliction

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.

John 12:20-26 • Gatekeepers and Ushers

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 • A Donkey-Riding Jesus

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 12:9-11 • Just Breathe

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.

John 12:1-8 • What Do You Want to be Known for?

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?

John 11:53-57 • Trusting the Storyteller

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.

John 11:51-52 • A Lighthouse of Love

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!”