Randy Boldt leads a very personal journey through the Gospel of John in a series of short videos designed to provide a daily devotional experience.

The John Project

Since 2004, I’ve had the privilege of teaching Bible students from around the world who travel to the nation of Taiwan for a five-month Discipleship Training School held there twice a year. I get to be with them for one week of their enrollment and conduct a three-hour, daily lecture. 
 
Every day, before introducing new material, I review the previous day’s curriculum and try to address any questions that developed overnight as these students processed the instruction they’d received. They’re exposed to a lot of content during class, so I always look forward to this opportunity to repeat and revisit things I’ve taught that they didn’t fully grasp. But even then, I know there’s only so much they’ll be able to absorb. 
 
That’s partly due to the limits of my communication skills, but also, because the deepest form of learning happens as information gets applied, and there’s really no shortcut to that process. It takes time. And when I conclude my week of teaching, I always find myself wishing there was a way I could stay with my students through their journey of application that only daily living can make possible. 
 
So, I love what Jesus told the Twelve about the process of their spiritual development in John 14:25-26. Having just emphasized the importance of not only hearing his words but living them, he reminded his disciples they would not be abandoned to go it alone. He reiterated his promise from verses 15-18 that the Father would send the Holy Spirit to remain with them, reinforce his instructions, and enable them to recall what they’d been taught as their lives provided the opportunity to apply his teaching. 
 
I believe you’re reading this because you want to be a faithful, diligent, and engaged student of the red ink – the color that many versions of the New Testament use to display the words of Jesus. But as you’ve probably already discovered, there’s a lot of it. And I know it may seem a bit overwhelming. You may even be tempted to feel shame or embarrassment about what you perceive to be your slowness to absorb and grasp the Lord’s instructions. 
 
But don’t surrender to that. The Holy Spirit is a wise and patient teacher working within our uniqueness, enabling us to learn and live in the life-altering words of the Savior. As believers, each of us has access to a divine tutor guiding us in understanding and assimilating the truths Jesus taught. And he’s not limited to a week of lectures. The Holy Spirit is with us 24/7/365 to ensure we’re growing in the knowledge we need and can apply it in every circumstance we encounter. 
 
And that’s not even close to the full measure of the Spirit’s mission in our lives. As we explore the next chapter of this Gospel, we’ll discover a much more expansive description of his role. But for now, let’s choose to soak in, with gratitude, the light of this one aspect of his ministry to us. With grateful and responsive hearts, let’s commit to being good students.

Since 2004, I’ve had the privilege of teaching Bible students from around the world who travel to the nation of Taiwan for a five-month Discipleship Training School held there twice a year. I get to be with them for one week of their enrollment and conduct a three-hour, daily lecture.

Every day, before introducing new material, I review the previous day’s curriculum and try to address any questions that developed overnight as these students processed the instruction they’d received. They’re exposed to a lot of content during class, so I always look forward to this opportunity to repeat and revisit things I’ve taught that they didn’t fully grasp. But even then, I know there’s only so much they’ll be able to absorb.

That’s partly due to the limits of my communication skills, but also, because the deepest form of learning happens as information gets applied, and there’s really no shortcut to that process. It takes time. And when I conclude my week of teaching, I always find myself wishi

John 14:25-26 • A Divine Tutor

With his arrest in Gethsemane now just hours away, John 14:19-20 records Jesus telling his disciples they would soon experience three things. They would see what others don’t, come alive in a new way, and understand a mysterious reality. 
 
First, he said people would be divided into two groups: those who see him and those who don’t. He said they would, and the world won’t, clarifying that belief would be the determining factor. But the word translated as ???????????? in this text is not the one for the physical experience of sight as when you just happen to see something. He used the word for the second glance you take to examine more fully something you’ve previously only casually observed. It involves intentionality and investigation. He clearly meant that even after he was no longer physically with them, there would still be much about him to be ???????????????? by those ready to explore with eyes of faith. Like a work of art that continues to reveal more of its beauty, meaning, and impact the longer you carefully consider it, their perspective on his stunning glory would keep expanding the more they gave themselves to pursuing the depth of his majesty. 
 
Second, he said that because he lives (present tense) – not had lived (past tense) or would live (future tense) – they could experience life in a way they hadn’t yet. He wanted them to understand that although his imminent crucifixion would result in the death of his body, he would not cease to be. He would continue living the spiritual life that has belonged to him eternally. And once he’d paid the death penalty owed for human sin, in his resurrection, he’d be able to impart that life to them, a life of another kind, his kind. 
 
Third, he said that once this happened, they would be able to grasp a truth he’d witnessed them struggle with. He told them, “You will know that I am in my Father.” And the word translated as ???????????????? here is about the kind of understanding that results from relationship rather than instruction. So, what follows is significant because it describes the environment of relationship that would provide the understanding they needed. He said they would finally comprehend the mystery of his unity with the Father because they would be experiencing a similar oneness with himself. They would be in him, and he would be in them. Their lives would be entwined with his in a way similar to his with the Father’s. 
 
So, what does all this have to do with us? Well, nothing if these words are just part of the historical record of some of the Lord’s final instructions to his original disciples. But if you believe, as I do, that Jesus was speaking beyond his inner circle gathered there that day to an audience that includes every Jesus-follower, then the impact for you and me is staggering. 
 
Please, don’t miss this! He has invited us into a relationship with him that results in our eyes being opened to the deeper dimensions of who he is; in his eternal life transforming our mere material existence; and in an experiential knowledge of what it means to be in him as he is in the Father. And the magnitude of just these three aspects of the grace lavished upon us in Christ so overwhelms my ability to comprehend, I’m…I’m struggling to know how to finish this sentence. So, pardon me while I pause here, slip to my knees before him, and attempt to find some way to give voice to my gratitude.

With his arrest in Gethsemane now just hours away, John 14:19-20 records Jesus telling his disciples they would soon experience three things. They would see what others don’t, come alive in a new way, and understand a mysterious reality.

First, he said people would be divided into two groups: those who see him and those who don’t. He said they would, and the world won’t, clarifying that belief would be the determining factor. But the word translated as ???????????? in this text is not the one for the physical experience of sight as when you just happen to see something. He used the word for the second glance you take to examine more fully something you’ve previously only casually observed. It involves intentionality and investigation. He clearly meant that even after he was no longer physically with them, there would still be much about him to be ???????????????? by those ready to explore with eyes of faith. Like a work of art that continues to reveal more of its beauty, meaning, and 

John 14:19-20 • Pardon Me

My wife and I have been married nearly fifty years, but we almost didn’t make it past ten. At that point, Sue walked out on me and had every right to. I was so controlling and self-absorbed that although I’d been with her for a decade, I didn’t really know her. I’d never sufficiently invested my heart in the pursuit of discovering, celebrating, learning from, and being changed by the rich treasure of who she is. And the loss of those first years, is the deepest regret of my life. But the grace of God and her willingness to forgive gifted me with a second chance. And in the years since, as the Holy Spirit has been healing my brokenness, it’s become my heart’s delight to daily explore and marvel at the wonders of this luminous creature I’ve been blessed to share life with. I love the adventure of getting to know her. 
 
And that experience informs how I approach John 14:7-11. At its heart, is a searing question. Jesus asked, “Have I been with you so long, and yet you have not known Me, Philip?” 
 
Jesus had just highlighted another of the essential understandings the disciples would need in preparation for his ascension. He’d restated something they’d heard him refer to many times. He reminded them that through the testimony of his life, they’d been able to see the Heavenly Father. 
 
So, it must have been quite jarring when Philip, sounding as though he’d completely ignored Jesus, responded by saying, “Show us the Father.” And it was this bizarre request that prompted the Lord to reply with the poignant and haunting query that although addressed to Philip, needs to be wrestled with by every Christ-follower. It challenges us all to consider whether we’ve been satisfied to simply be with Jesus or committed to getting to know him. 
 
You can hear the heartache in the Lord’s voice as he lamented Philip’s failure to grasp the truth that defined the core of his being. He and the Father are one. If Philip hadn’t cared enough to get to know that about him, it called into question the genuineness of his faith and the depth of their relationship. So, he implored Philip to either believe what he’d taught him or at least what his works demonstrated about it. 
 
But there’s a big difference in those avenues to faith. The first is based on communication – what Jesus said. The second is based observation – what Jesus did. The first involves a choice rooted in Jesus himself, the second on evaluated evidence about him. They both arrive at belief, but the first is personal the second empirical. The first is a more direct route to relationship. The second requires an intermediate step. And that’s why Jesus offered it to Philip only as an alternative. His priority is always to welcome us deeper into relationship. He wants us to know him. 
 
Has your faith-journey become more pragmatic than intimate? Has it devolved into an arrangement that’s more like just being with Jesus than getting to know him? If so, that can change right now. Let me remind you of the Lord’s promise in Revelation 3:20 where he said, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me.” 
 
That offer is not just for the day you first responded to his loving grace. It’s also for every day that follows including this one.

My wife and I have been married nearly fifty years, but we almost didn’t make it past ten. At that point, Sue walked out on me and had every right to. I was so controlling and self-absorbed that although I’d been with her for a decade, I didn’t really know her. I’d never sufficiently invested my heart in the pursuit of discovering, celebrating, learning from, and being changed by the rich treasure of who she is. And the loss of those first years, is the deepest regret of my life. But the grace of God and her willingness to forgive gifted me with a second chance. And in the years since, as the Holy Spirit has been healing my brokenness, it’s become my heart’s delight to daily explore and marvel at the wonders of this luminous creature I’ve been blessed to share life with. I love the adventure of getting to know her.

And that experience informs how I approach John 14:7-11. At its heart, is a searing question. Jesus asked, “Have I been with you so long, and yet you have not known Me, Phi

John 14:7-11 • To be With or to Know

I can’t know if it’s the same for you, but my social media feeds are typically saturated with photos and videos of my friends’ children and grandchildren. From infants asleep in their cribs to toddlers taking their first steps to grade schoolers playing soccer to high schoolers dressed for prom, they just can’t seem to help themselves. They’ve fallen head-over-heels in love with these sweet gifts from God and imagine everyone else in the world will too if they can just get a glimpse of their little lovelies mugging for the camera. 
 
And something of that kind of deep parental devotion is heard in the voice of Jesus when in John 13:33-35 he addressed his little children. It’s a two-word translation of a single Greek word used only this once in the four Gospels and only sparingly in the rest of the New Testament. It’s a term of rich endearment like those a new mom might use to caption the latest pic of her little darling posted on Instagram. And if you’ve ever felt that kind of pride, delight and affection for your own child or been loved by a parent in that way, this expression is meant to help you sample a small taste of how the Savior feels about you. 
 
But the magnitude of the awareness that we’re loved like that by the Lord of Lord’s can be difficult to take in. So, we generally choose to deflect its impact by imagining that this salutation is either exclusive to the disciples or thinly spread in a diluted way across all believers. It’s a challenge to allow ourselves to be enveloped by the full measure of the truth that Jesus, with detailed knowledge of our faults and failings, loves us as his dear children. And yet, here he is. The one who spoke the universe into existence is calling to each of us from this passage with tender words of equal power intended to secure our souls in the embrace of his compassion. How dare we resist! 
 
Unless we stop disqualifying ourselves and make the choice to fully rest in the warmth of his affection, we won’t be able to fulfill the command he issued in this passage. He reminded his followers that he would not be physically present with them much longer. Then, he assigned them to be his ambassadors, and he told them to do that by loving others in the same manner he’d loved them. 
 
He said this was a new commandment. Among the laws God gave Moses for the Israelites in the Old Testament was: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18). But now, Jesus was saying that to be his representatives in this world, it would not be sufficient to love others as ourselves. It would require loving others more than ourselves. It would mean learning to love like he loves. And the only way that can even begin to be possible is if we first personally experience it. 
 
Until we stop letting the haunting awareness of our unworthiness keep us from living life fully enveloped within his love, we won’t be able to offer it to others. But if we take the risk of a freefall into his waiting arms and permit him to break the cycle of shame that feeds our hesitation, then, not only will our souls have found their true home, but we’ll be able to invite others into it. We’ll find ourselves effortlessly offering to others what we ourselves have received, and by doing so, reflecting into the world he loves the heart of Jesus for his little children.

I can’t know if it’s the same for you, but my social media feeds are typically saturated with photos and videos of my friends’ children and grandchildren. From infants asleep in their cribs to toddlers taking their first steps to grade schoolers playing soccer to high schoolers dressed for prom, they just can’t seem to help themselves. They’ve fallen head-over-heels in love with these sweet gifts from God and imagine everyone else in the world will too if they can just get a glimpse of their little lovelies mugging for the camera.

And something of that kind of deep parental devotion is heard in the voice of Jesus when in John 13:33-35 he addressed his little children. It’s a two-word translation of a single Greek word used only this once in the four Gospels and only sparingly in the rest of the New Testament. It’s a term of rich endearment like those a new mom might use to caption the latest pic of her little darling posted on Instagram. And if you’ve ever felt that kind of pride, del

John 13:33-35 • Little Children

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.

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 discipl

John 13:4-5 • The Things Servants Do

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.

The last seven verses of John 12 conclude Jesus' public preaching. Afterward, he would spend his remaining time prior to the ...

John 12:44-50 • A Call to Faith

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.

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 mean

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

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.

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

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

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.”

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 suff

John 12:31-34 • Lifted up

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.

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 altog

John 12:20-26 • Gatekeepers and Ushers

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.

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 g

John 11:53-57 • Trusting the Storyteller

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!”

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 und

John 11:51-52 • A Lighthouse of Love

Unable to refute the veracity and impact of his miracles, John 11:47-48 observes the Jewish elite at their wits end concerning Jesus. They were wringing their hands over how to respond to the threat he posed to their religious authority. They feared that if left unchecked there would be an avalanche of faith in his messiahship forcing Rome to upend the fragile arrangement that allowed them to operate with pseudo-autonomy. 
 
Then, verses 49 and 50 describe how the high priest muscled his way into the panic and ended the discussion making the case that the only logical solution and best thing for the nation was to kill Jesus. Yes, you heard that right. The senior faith leader authorized the murder of Jesus as the best response to the situation. 
 
It seems there’s no limit to the evil we humans have the capacity to authorize ourselves to commit. Even a brief reading of history provides all the confirmation of that we need. And I’m not pointing fingers. I’m including myself in that indictment. 
 
No, I’ve never contemplated causing someone’s death. But I have given myself permission to jeopardize the lives of others by setting my own speed limit on the freeway so I could get where I wanted when I wanted. And I once successfully talked myself into the reasonableness of underreporting my income on my tax return. And that had the downstream effect of making less money available for those dependent on government support to feed their families. I’ve also been guilty of justifying my disregard for the worth of others on the basis of their appearance. And I could on, but it’s depressing. 
 
It’s just so easy to convince myself to do what I think is best for me regardless of the cost to others. Jeremiah 17:9 says, “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked.” There’s a little Pharisee inside of me that’s quite proficient at excusing my wickedness. And that’s exactly why I need Jesus. 
 
He’s the one who makes possible the fulfillment of Ezekiel 36:26-27 where God promises his people, “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you...I will put my Spirit within you and cause you to walk in my statutes.” 
 
That heart transplant happens once and for all at the moment we place our faith in Christ as Savior. But redirecting our stride and learning to walk in his statutes is a process that requires both time and cooperation with the work of the Holy Spirit. That’s what Colossians 2:6 is addressing when it says, “As you therefore have received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him...” 
 
And that’s what I want, to more consistently follow in my Savior’s footsteps by welcoming the Spirit of God to help me muzzle my Pharisee and conduct myself in a manner that better reflects the Lord I love.

Unable to refute the veracity and impact of his miracles, John 11:47-48 observes the Jewish elite at their wits end concerning Jesus. They were wringing their hands over how to respond to the threat he posed to their religious authority. They feared that if left unchecked there would be an avalanche of faith in his messiahship forcing Rome to upend the fragile arrangement that allowed them to operate with pseudo-autonomy.

Then, verses 49 and 50 describe how the high priest muscled his way into the panic and ended the discussion making the case that the only logical solution and best thing for the nation was to kill Jesus. Yes, you heard that right. The senior faith leader authorized the murder of Jesus as the best response to the situation.

It seems there’s no limit to the evil we humans have the capacity to authorize ourselves to commit. Even a brief reading of history provides all the confirmation of that we need. And I’m not pointing fingers. I’m including myself in that indictmen

John 11:47-50 • Muzzle My Pharisee

John 11 verse 41 tells us that when Lazarus’ grave had been opened, Jesus lifted his eyes heavenward and thanked his Father that he’d been heard. But it’s a little puzzling for us as readers because we’re not given the transcript of what had been said. We don’t even know when he said whatever it was. What we do know is that he went on in verse 42 to explain this expression of gratitude was for the sake of those observing him. 
 
And since in a way, that includes us, I believe we need to stop and consider the implications of this curious and often-overlooked passage before moving on to the main event of Lazarus’ resurrection. Why? Because everything Jesus said and did was meant to be an example to us. These verses are not here just to pad the story. They teach us something. 
 
The Lord clearly wanted the coming miracle to be seen as a response to something he’d requested from the Heavenly Father. He intended it to provide further evidence of his messiahship to those who were present and inspire their faith. But he was not thanking God in advance for what was about to take place. He said he was grateful he’d been heard. And that’s the key. 
 
Although it can’t be known with certainty, it seems reasonable from the context to assume that if Jesus was referring to a prayer he’d offered at the scene, it would have been recorded for us. But it’s not. And I think that at least means he wanted the crowd to understand what they were about to witness was the powerful result of Son-to-Father communication that took place out of their hearing. 
 
Could that private prayer have taken place just prior to these statements? Of course. But it could just as easily have happened hours or days before. And it’s entirely conceivable he was bringing to light something that happened as far back as when the news of Lazarus’ illness first reached him. 
 
His response to that sobering message from Mary and Martha was emphatic. He said, “This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God…” And I think it’s quite possible his confident declaration flowed from an inner assurance that a silent request he’d made to the Father in that moment on behalf of his friends had been heard. 
 
And if that’s the case, it’s a powerful lesson to us. In the time between that forceful proclamation and the moment Lazarus walked out of his tomb, things became progressively dark and appeared hopeless just like what sometimes happens in our circumstances. 
 
But when we truly know we’ve been heard by God it literally changes everything. We find ourselves more able to trust our concerns to his plans and timing. It ushers us into what Philippians 4:7 describes as “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding.” And as Jesus expressed, it gives rise to a thankfulness that’s not about an outcome we’re expecting but about the awesome knowledge that we’ve received an audience with the Lord of Lords and Maker of the Universe. 
 
Earlier this week, our son called to tell us his doctor had removed some tissue from his leg, and it had been diagnosed as malignant melanoma. So, my wife and I immediately went to God in prayer, pressing hard into him until we sensed that deep assurance of his peace. We can’t know how the rest of this story will unfold at this point, so we’ll continue to pray our way through it. But we’re not afraid because we know we’ve been heard! 
 
And that assurance can be yours as well regarding whatever you may be facing today. Claim the promise of Isaiah 65:24 where your Heavenly Father says, “...while they are still speaking, I will hear.”

John 11 verse 41 tells us that when Lazarus’ grave had been opened, Jesus lifted his eyes heavenward and thanked his Father that he’d been heard. But it’s a little puzzling for us as readers because we’re not given the transcript of what had been said. We don’t even know when he said whatever it was. What we do know is that he went on in verse 42 to explain this expression of gratitude was for the sake of those observing him.

And since in a way, that includes us, I believe we need to stop and consider the implications of this curious and often-overlooked passage before moving on to the main event of Lazarus’ resurrection. Why? Because everything Jesus said and did was meant to be an example to us. These verses are not here just to pad the story. They teach us something.

The Lord clearly wanted the coming miracle to be seen as a response to something he’d requested from the Heavenly Father. He intended it to provide further evidence of his messiahship to those who were present and ins

John 11:41-42 • We’ve Been Heard

I say this a little tongue-in-cheek, but one of the greatest acts of bravery I’ve ever witnessed happened a couple of years ago. Some skunks had moved into the crawlspace under our house. We became aware of it because they apparently got into a fight and sprayed each other which created an unbearable smell throughout our home. But when the pest control guy arrived and got to work, I was in awe of the fearlessness he exhibited as he suited up to go under the house directly into the teeth of that stinky situation. That took courage. 
 
But all kidding aside, it takes far more courage to be willing to open the crypt in our souls where unbelief has buried the decaying remains of our broken dreams. We spiritually recoil from the risk of exposing the foul aroma emanating from the moldering mess of our disappointment, anger, and heartache. But the Lord must take us there if we’re ever going to experience a revival of hope. 
 
And that’s the lesson of John 11 verses 38-40 which set up the climax for the account of the resurrection of Lazarus. 
 
On the way to this miraculous moment, Jesus had repeatedly made it clear that death would not be the end of the story. He’d said this episode would instead result in a display of the glory of God. But those involved just couldn’t seem to believe there could be anything beyond the physical reality of Lazarus’ passing. So, as the Lord approached the cave where his friend’s lifeless body had been entombed, he was deeply moved not only with emotional empathy for their grief but also with sorrow over their lack of faith. 
 
When he asked that the stone covering the grave’s entrance be moved, Martha resisted, cautioning him that the stench from the decaying body would be overwhelming. But I think, based on the Lord’s reply, that her response revealed more than a practical consideration. It exposed how far she’d allowed herself to travel down the road of unbelief. 
 
Her earlier conversation with Jesus had awakened a fresh confidence in who he is. But unbelief buries hope, and much of hers was in the grave along with her brother’s body. She was grieving her way through to a future without him, and it seems she'd already become so invested in her new reality she just couldn’t imagine there was any alternative. I mean dead bodies stay dead and rot, end of story. 
 
But as he always does, Jesus was challenging earthbound assumptions and illuminating a heavenly perspective. With a statement in the form of a question he called her to believe what he’d said over what she thought she knew. By asking that the tomb be opened, he was also asking her to be willing to reopen the story to a different ending. He was inviting her to trust the power and faithfulness of his word more than the limitations of her own understanding. 
 
Jesus has an annoying habit of confronting our doubts. His loving heart just refuses to abandon us to that confining state which so vastly limits our experience of his glory 
 
Do you have a buried hope rotting in a tomb dug by unbelief? If so, don’t be surprised when Jesus asks you to move the stone that covers that grave. We must brave the putrid scent of our faithlessness and expose the decomposing corpse of our unfulfilled hopes if we’re going to witness the unimaginable wonder of his power to restore what we thought was lost. He’s really good at resurrecting broken dreams, and you can confidently bring yours to him right now.

I say this a little tongue-in-cheek, but one of the greatest acts of bravery I’ve ever witnessed happened a couple of years ago. Some skunks had moved into the crawlspace under our house. We became aware of it because they apparently got into a fight and sprayed each other which created an unbearable smell throughout our home. But when the pest control guy arrived and got to work, I was in awe of the fearlessness he exhibited as he suited up to go under the house directly into the teeth of that stinky situation. That took courage.

But all kidding aside, it takes far more courage to be willing to open the crypt in our souls where unbelief has buried the decaying remains of our broken dreams. We spiritually recoil from the risk of exposing the foul aroma emanating from the moldering mess of our disappointment, anger, and heartache. But the Lord must take us there if we’re ever going to experience a revival of hope.

And that’s the lesson of John 11 verses 38-40 which set up the climax f

John 11:38-40 • Move the Stone

“There will be one flock.” 
 
That statement by Jesus recorded in John 10:16 as part of the summation of his shepherd parable would have been shocking to his audience of Jewish religious leaders. They would have interpreted his teaching through the lens of their Hebrew-centric paradigm. So, they would have been blindsided when he said that his flock will include sheep “which are not of this fold.” And because they were likely in the temple when they heard this, his use of the word, fold – which literally means, court – would have suddenly taken on special significance. 
 
The Jerusalem temple complex was designed as a series of courts progressing inward toward the Holy of Holies. Non-Jews were restricted – under threat of the death penalty, by the way – to the outermost of these called the Court of the Gentiles. Jesus was likely addressing his parable to the religious elite within one of the inner courts, and the symbolism would have been hard for them to miss. 
 
He was symbolically if not literally pointing toward that outer court of people they treated with contempt when he announced that his flock would include the excluded. And he was emphatic that their inclusion would not be as an underclass. They would be equally integrated, fully assimilated. 
 
“There will be one flock.” 
 
They shouldn’t have been surprised by this, because of course, this had been God’s plan from the beginning. From the moment he set apart Abraham and his descendants as his chosen people, the Lord made clear his intention was to introduce himself and his blessings to the whole world through them. In fact, the prophet, Isaiah, specifically said that the Messiah would be a “light to the Gentiles” (Isaiah 42:6; 49:6). 
 
So, Jesus was simply announcing that he was fulfilling this divine plan. His message or good news was gloriously inclusive. The most quoted verse in the New Testament is John 3:16 where he declared a whoever-gospel. He said eternal life is available to anyone who places their faith in him, and that had to mean regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, or personal history. 
 
“There will be one flock.” 
 
So why do we as Jesus’ followers have such a hard time with this? Martin Luther King, Jr. once said, “…the most segregated hour…is eleven o'clock on Sunday morning.” And he was talking about the ways that Christians tend to splinter into groups of affinity – including race – when we gather to worship. 
 
But my question is not really about that. I understand people naturally like to hang out with others that have similar backgrounds and relate better to certain communication and music styles. I even celebrate the amazing variety of church ministry approaches around the world. 
 
My concern is that we sometimes seem to allow our diversity to mask division and our preferences to mask prejudices. So, instead of displaying the unity of the Spirit, we often appear to reflect the fragmentation of the world. And when we do, we betray one of the most beautiful and foundational aspects of our faith. 
 
“There will be one flock.” 
 
I’ve recently spent time in prayer acknowledging and repenting the ways I’ve failed in this. And I’ve specifically invited the Holy Spirit to make any needed adjustments to my soul’s perspectives so that I can be part of the fulfillment of this aspect of his redemptive purposes. Would you be willing to join me? Perhaps together, with our hearts realigned to his values, we can better represent what he meant when he said… 
 
“There will be one flock.”

“There will be one flock.”

That statement by Jesus recorded in John 10:16 as part of the summation of his shepherd parable would have been shocking to his audience of Jewish religious leaders. They would have interpreted his teaching through the lens of their Hebrew-centric paradigm. So, they would have been blindsided when he said that his flock will include sheep “which are not of this fold.” And because they were likely in the temple when they heard this, his use of the word, fold – which literally means, court – would have suddenly taken on special significance.

The Jerusalem temple complex was designed as a series of courts progressing inward toward the Holy of Holies. Non-Jews were restricted – under threat of the death penalty, by the way – to the outermost of these called the Court of the Gentiles. Jesus was likely addressing his parable to the religious elite within one of the inner courts, and the symbolism would have been hard for them to miss.

He was symbolically if not 

John 10:16 • One Flock

John’s Gospel contains seven statements from Jesus that begin with, “I am.” They allow us to hear the Lord describe himself in his own words. And as the shepherd parable resumes in verses 7-10 of chapter 10, we encounter one of these self-descriptions when the Lord said, “I am the door.” And he used this image to illustrate another in the series of stark contrasts between the shepherd and the thief as he revealed the differences in their missions. 
 
It’s obvious that Jesus cast himself as the shepherd in this story. And as the focus of his affectionate care, you and I are the sheep. But the metaphor of the thief is applied more broadly. It certainly includes the Pharisees and other Jewish religious leaders in the crowd he was addressing. But it also clearly points beyond them to anything or anyone opposed to the sheep, and by direct implication, refers to the devil, the enemy of God’s loving purposes for people. 
 
Jesus said the thief’s strategy is to steal – attempt to plunder everything of God’s good intentions for us; to kill – deceive us into offering ourselves to be sacrificed to false gods such as materialism, pleasure, and power; and to destroy – not only extinguish our lives but scar them beyond recognition. 
 
In contrast, Jesus said his mission is to give us life. And the Greek word translated here is extremely significant. It’s the word the New Testament uses for the kind of life God has. Jesus was plainly stating that he came to offer us something far more than just an extension or enhancement to the biological life we already have. His purpose is to escort us into the power-filled life of the spirit, and not just some limited, modified, or throttled version. He said he came to give it excessively, extravagantly, abundantly. 
 
And that’s why viewing Jesus as a very specific kind of door is important. Counterintuitively, He identified himself as the door that provides safety by being open not closed. 
 
As I record this, the whole world has been shut down for a few months due to a global pandemic. As a protection against a deadly virus, people everywhere have been confined to their homes, and we’re all starting to go a little stir-crazy. In fact, substance abuse, domestic violence, and suicides are up because living in fear behind a locked door isn’t healthy. 
 
And contrary to what many think, the life Jesus offers is not one of confinement focused on keeping the thief out. It’s really the opposite of that. The Lord’s power to overcome any threat to us is so great that it renders that threat irrelevant. As a result, he’s able to offer us a life of true freedom unencumbered by the weight of fear so that we can come and go without concern. 
 
This is not a denial of the very real and sinister strategy of the thief. It’s a description of a life so abundant with the riches of the shepherd’s love and power that the possibility of experiencing harm while in his care is simply meaningless. 
 
He’s the open door swinging out as an invitation to explore the rich pastures of his limitless grace and swinging in to welcome us home to the comfort of the fold all within the security of his abiding presence. And offering that kind of life is why he came. 
 
So, let him unlock the constraints of any fear that has imprisoned you in a small and stifled space. He wants to introduce you to life abundant.

John’s Gospel contains seven statements from Jesus that begin with, “I am.” They allow us to hear the Lord describe himself in his own words. And as the shepherd parable resumes in verses 7-10 of chapter 10, we encounter one of these self-descriptions when the Lord said, “I am the door.” And he used this image to illustrate another in the series of stark contrasts between the shepherd and the thief as he revealed the differences in their missions.

It’s obvious that Jesus cast himself as the shepherd in this story. And as the focus of his affectionate care, you and I are the sheep. But the metaphor of the thief is applied more broadly. It certainly includes the Pharisees and other Jewish religious leaders in the crowd he was addressing. But it also clearly points beyond them to anything or anyone opposed to the sheep, and by direct implication, refers to the devil, the enemy of God’s loving purposes for people.

Jesus said the thief’s strategy is to steal – attempt to plunder everythin

John 10:7-10 • The Door

The first half of John 10 is most likely a continuation of the pointed rebuke of the Pharisees by Jesus that concluded the previous chapter. But when he used the phrase, “Most assuredly, I say to you," it meant he wanted even greater attention to be given to what would follow. And what follows is a lengthy parable about the shepherd and the sheep. 
 
A parable isn’t a riddle. It’s not meant to hide meaning. It’s meant to reveal it. When Jesus used a parable, he was painting a word picture describing images and experiences that would be very familiar to his hearers and building a bridge of understanding from something they already knew well to something he wanted them to discover. 
 
So, he used this beautiful shepherd/sheep illustration to describe the kind of relationship he wants to have with his followers. The passage is saturated with rich significance for every believer. And even though most of us today aren’t nearly as familiar with references to shepherding culture as his original audience, the heart of Jesus and the truths he conveyed easily bridge that gap. 
 
The first two verses introduce the hero and the villain of the story and offer the first of several stark contrasts that are made between them. As the starting point of his parable, Jesus said the shepherd enters the sheepfold – an enclosure that provides safety for the sheep – through the door, but a thief tries to gain access by other means. 
 
He was saying that anyone lurking in the shadows and attempting to infiltrate the security of the fold is a robber, someone intent on causing harm. And although he was clearly indicting the religious elite with this illustration, I think it’s also clear he meant for us to understand that anything seeking to breach the environment of our spiritual home is a serious threat. 
 
A couple of days ago, I woke up in the middle of the night and noticed light from our side yard security lamp filtering in through our bedroom windows. It’s activated by a motion sensor. So, I knew something was moving out there. And although it was probably just a stray cat, it unnerved me because only unwelcomed guests seek to access a home by means other than the front door. 
 
Is anything circling your heart’s defenses today in search of an unguarded way into that sacred space? What about fear, unforgiveness, guilt, pride, self-pity, lust, depression, anger, shame, or selfishness? These aren’t just stray cats. These are actual threats to your spiritual life. Don’t just lie there ignoring the light filtering in from your soul’s security lamp. The Holy Spirit may be alerting you to something moving out there that doesn’t belong, something the shepherd wants to protect you from if you’ll let him. But remember, he comes through the door. You’ll need to open it and invite him in. 
 
We’ve all been given the freedom to try and deal with these intruders on our own, but in my experience, that doesn’t usually work out too well. On the other hand, I’ve noticed that when I stop pretending I can secure the premises of my inner life by myself and choose instead to welcome and respond to the shepherd’s powerful presence, I’m increasingly able to rest deeply in the safety of the fold. 
 
I’m certainly not an expert on the subject, but I’ve read that because sheep are prey animals with little means for self-protection, their natural state is a hyper-vigilance that enables them to be ready to quickly respond to danger. But their well-being can be adversely affected by living with so much anxiety. So, shepherds work hard to help them be at peace. 
 
And that’s what Jesus wants for each of his lambs. It’s what he wants for you. He’s ready if you are. Just open the door.

The first half of John 10 is most likely a continuation of the pointed rebuke of the Pharisees by Jesus that concluded the previous chapter. But when he used the phrase, “Most assuredly, I say to you," it meant he wanted even greater attention to be given to what would follow. And what follows is a lengthy parable about the shepherd and the sheep.

A parable isn’t a riddle. It’s not meant to hide meaning. It’s meant to reveal it. When Jesus used a parable, he was painting a word picture describing images and experiences that would be very familiar to his hearers and building a bridge of understanding from something they already knew well to something he wanted them to discover.

So, he used this beautiful shepherd/sheep illustration to describe the kind of relationship he wants to have with his followers. The passage is saturated with rich significance for every believer. And even though most of us today aren’t nearly as familiar with references to shepherding culture as his original a

John 10:1-2 • Stray Cats and Thieves

In 2013, my wife was diagnosed – based on the results of two surgeries, a panoply of tests, and two different types of imaging – with stage-four, untreatable, incurable, and terminal cancer. But during a third surgery performed for the purpose of debulking the cancer to provide a short extension to her life, no trace of the lesions could be found. And her scans have been completely clear ever since. 
 
The medical community can often be quite skeptical of divine healing. But the force of my wife’s miraculous story has left many among them literally speechless and shaking their heads. 
 
A testimony is a powerful thing. 
 
John 9:13 opens the description of what followed Jesus’ healing of the man who’d been blind from birth. When people heard that this miracle involved Jesus making mud on the Sabbath, they brought the healed man to the Pharisees. They knew there was going to be trouble, and they wanted to make sure they weren’t in the line of fire when the religious stuff started to hit the fan. 
 
Among other things, the Pharisees were a kind of self-appointed Sabbath-police and part of a religious system that had turned a blessing from God – a one-in-seven day of rest – into a ritualistic nightmare. And they’d already determined that Jesus should get the death penalty for a previous Sabbath infringement when he healed the lame man at the pool of Bethesda. So, they were chomping at the bit to investigate this current violation. 
 
But they ran into a problem. The man they set out to intimidate with their interrogation – who just minutes before would have been disregarded by them as nothing more than a blind beggar – proved to be unshakable because of the power of his testimony. 
 
Verses 14-16 describe the beginnings of what would become a proxy trial of Jesus and reveal the impotence of pride and doubt to ultimately resist the story of a life impacted by him. Even before the proceedings really got rolling, cracks began to form in the solidarity of the Pharisees. This formerly blind man’s opening statement of the simple facts was so powerful that it caused some of them to begin reconsidering their negative perceptions of Jesus. 
 
The impact of this used-to-be-blind man on some of the Pharisees wasn’t the result of a well-crafted theological argument. In fact, in verse 17, when the man was asked his opinion about Jesus, the gaps in his still-developing Christology were revealed when he described him as a prophet not as Messiah. He didn’t have all the answers yet, but he did have a story. 
 
Let me repeat myself. A testimony is powerful thing. And if you’re a Christ-follower, your testimony is a powerful thing. It may not include a dramatic physical healing. But the impact of Jesus’ touch on your life and the progressive healing he’s daily producing in your soul as you pursue him in faith is incredibly potent and cannot be disputed. It’s your story. 
 
Remember that the next time life challenges your faith like a group of Pharisees sitting in judgement. You have a testimony that’s unshakable because it’s rooted in the one who’s immovable.

In 2013, my wife was diagnosed – based on the results of two surgeries, a panoply of tests, and two different types of imaging – with stage-four, untreatable, incurable, and terminal cancer. But during a third surgery performed for the purpose of debulking the cancer to provide a short extension to her life, no trace of the lesions could be found. And her scans have been completely clear ever since.

The medical community can often be quite skeptical of divine healing. But the force of my wife’s miraculous story has left many among them literally speechless and shaking their heads.

A testimony is a powerful thing.

John 9:13 opens the description of what followed Jesus’ healing of the man who’d been blind from birth. When people heard that this miracle involved Jesus making mud on the Sabbath, they brought the healed man to the Pharisees. They knew there was going to be trouble, and they wanted to make sure they weren’t in the line of fire when the religious stuff started to hit the f

John 9:13-17 • The Power of a Testimony

The eighth chapter of John’s Gospel begins and ends with the Jewish elite wanting to throw stones. They came after the adulteress first, and Jesus was able to skillfully diffuse that situation. But then, after spending the rest of the chapter unsuccessfully arguing against his claim to be the son of God, they became so frustrated they prepared to heave rocks at him instead. 
 
They couldn’t tolerate a sinner or a savior. Their perverted religious system had become all about attaining and preserving positions of spiritual privilege. They couldn’t afford to offer grace to the woman without exposing their own sin, and they couldn’t acknowledge Jesus to be their Messiah without humbling themselves. Ultimately, that was the issue. Jesus was a threat to their self-righteousness and sense of religious entitlement. 
 
In verses 56 through 59, the Lord brought the chapter-long debate regarding his divinity and their descendancy from Abraham to a close with a dramatic statement. It was an absolute mic drop. He said, “…before Abraham was, I AM.” And at that point, they started grabbing stones and would have tried to silence him with death had he not hid himself and escaped. 
 
They understood what he meant. I AM was the name God used to describe himself to Moses at the burning bush. By adopting that sacred name and claiming to exist before Abraham existed, he was declaring his divinity with emphatic clarity. And it completely undermined the foundations of their religious regime. 
 
For us, it’s just the opposite. Our faith has power precisely because Jesus is God in flesh. The cross has no meaning apart from the fact that the penalty for our sins was paid there by the sinless Messiah. 
 
And because he’s the eternal one without beginning or end, it also means that he IS in my WAS – redeeming my past – gathering up the debris of my broken history and creating from its fragments a work of art. He IS in my WILL BE – shaping my future – making a way forward from the barren desert of my own making into the lush landscape of his fulfilled promises. And he IS in my AM – moving in my present – infusing this very moment with the sweetness of his undeserved grace. 
 
There’s so much power and promise in what Jesus said about himself in this passage. But it may be that you haven’t yet been able to rest in its truth. If not, please hear my heart. The time has come. Let the mic drop.

The eighth chapter of John’s Gospel begins and ends with the Jewish elite wanting to throw stones. They came after the adulteress first, and Jesus was able to skillfully diffuse that situation. But then, after spending the rest of the chapter unsuccessfully arguing against his claim to be the son of God, they became so frustrated they prepared to heave rocks at him instead.

They couldn’t tolerate a sinner or a savior. Their perverted religious system had become all about attaining and preserving positions of spiritual privilege. They couldn’t afford to offer grace to the woman without exposing their own sin, and they couldn’t acknowledge Jesus to be their Messiah without humbling themselves. Ultimately, that was the issue. Jesus was a threat to their self-righteousness and sense of religious entitlement.

In verses 56 through 59, the Lord brought the chapter-long debate regarding his divinity and their descendancy from Abraham to a close with a dramatic statement. It was an absolute m

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