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!”

John 11:47-50 • Muzzle My Pharisee

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.

John 11:45-46 • The Choice

According to John 11:45, many in the crowd that witnessed the resurrection of Lazarus became believers as we might expect. But verse 46 tell us some of them instead went to the Pharisees and reported what Jesus had done. They weren’t disputing what happened or expressing skepticism. They were simply alerting the religious leaders that Jesus had raised a man from death. And since the Pharisees’ opposition to Jesus was well established, it’s clear they’d made a choice, in spite of the reality of what they’d seen, to align themselves with the unbelief of the religious elite.

And that unbelief was not a denial of the facts. It was a conscious resistance to the faith response those facts elicited.

It's really hard for me to comprehend, but the Gospels consistently report this dichotomy resulting from the miracles of Jesus. There were those who were moved to faith by the amazing things they’d seen and those who’d seen the same things but made the choice not to believe.

For reasons specific to his purpose, out of all the miracles Jesus performed, John selected only seven of them for inclusion in his Gospel. Still, it’s an impressive list. He recorded Jesus turning water into wine at a wedding in Cana, healing a royal official’s son in Capernaum, healing an invalid at the Pool of Bethesda, feeding 5,000 men plus women and children near the Sea of Galilee with five loaves and two fish, walking on the waters of the Sea of Galilee, healing a blind man in Jerusalem, and raising Lazarus from the dead in Bethany.

How’s it possible for someone exposed to this array of empirical evidence to willingly resist its powerful call to faith? I honestly don’t know. But I do know that no matter how overwhelming the evidence, faith is always a choice. And that means God has gifted everyone with the right to reject him. The maker and master of all things will never mandate or coerce belief, and he also grants complete freedom to refuse it. But that’s what true love does.

I once wrote these lyrics to try and capture the sense of this:

And although

He knew that it was best

That we should live our lives in his rest

Perfect love must stand the test

And so, he left to us the choosing

Laid his love out on the line

For us to receive

Or turn to follow our own design

It’s sad to imagine anyone doing that. But the truth is, we all have. The first part of Isaiah 53:6 says, “All we like sheep have gone astray. We have turned, every one, to his own way.” But then, referring to what Christ has done in response, the last part of the verse says, “And the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.”

In other words, despite knowing many would reject him, Jesus still went to the cross. His love compelled him to take our sin upon himself and pay its penalty with his own life so that there would be a way for the rest of us to be forgiven and made right with God through our faith in his sacrifice.

As hard as it is for me to contemplate the possibility of someone turning away from this amazing gift, I’m deeply moved by the divine compassion that offers it. And I never want to take it for granted. Even though my faith in Christ is the result of a choice I’ve made, the availability of that choice is the result of a love beyond comprehension and a gift beyond measure.

Lord of glory, may the crowning achievement of every day I live be a fresh expression of my faith. I choose to believe. You deserve nothing less.

John 11:43-44 • The Discipline of Unwrapping

With the door to the tomb wide open so anyone who wanted could observe the miracle in progress, John 11:43 records the Lord shouting, “Lazarus, come forth!” Then, verse 44 announces that after four days of lifelessness, the formerly deceased friend of Jesus and brother of Mary and Martha walked out of his grave. His exit was somewhat impeded by the cloth wrappings that had been used to prepare his body for burial. So, Jesus invited some in the crowd of stunned observers to participate in the miracle and said, “Loose him, and let him go.”

Come on! This is just flat out amazing! Words fail. I don’t know what else to say but, “Praise God!” It’s an astounding event in the life and ministry of Jesus – so simply described, and yet so powerfully impactful. And that impact stands on its own without requiring any commentary from me.

But there is something in this passage I’d like to highlight, and it’s this: When the Lord speaks, it will usually produce something that needs to be unwrapped.

God’s words are powerful. They create, heal, and restore. They change things in both the visible and invisible realms. Listen to what the Lord himself said about this in Isaiah 55:11:

So shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; it shall not return to me void, but it shall accomplish what I please, and it shall prosper in the thing for which I sent it.

Consider the magnitude of the cosmos that erupted from the simple phrase, “Let there be light.”

But his words are also always densely packed with divine perspectives, insights, revelations, and instructions. Psalm 119:105 says:

Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.

So, if the full dimension of what God intends to set in motion through his words is going to be realized, we need to be more than casual observers of what they produce. We also need to become willing to engage in the process of unpacking the depth and complexity of their meaning. And that’s true whether they’re shouted into a tomb, breathed onto the pages of Scripture, or whispered into our souls.

Whether it was contained within something someone said, a moving piece of music, a Bible passage, or a dramatic sunset, most of us have had moments when we sensed the Lord communicating with us. And it’s sobering to realize those expressions from his heart are meant to both do things and reveal things. So, let’s change how we respond to them.

That means instead of just enjoying the moment and allowing the message to quickly fade from our awareness, we’ll treasure his words enough to capture them by writing down what we believe we’ve heard, telling someone else, or prayerfully acknowledging them before God. We’ll make time to carefully consider what was said, meditating on it, probing its implications, and inviting the Holy Spirit to expand and illuminate it for us. And we’ll respond to what was said with appropriate surrender, repentance, and obedience.

When we learn to value the voice of God by doing these things, we’ll find ourselves becoming more sensitive to its sound. We’ll be quicker to recognize and respond to moments of divine encounter and discover they happen more often than we once thought. More importantly, as we become committed to the discipline of unwrapping, like the bystanders Jesus invited into Lazarus’ miracle story, we’ll be better positioned to participate in the wonderous things Jesus is always doing in the lives of others and the world around us.

John 11:41-42 • We’ve Been Heard

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 11:38-40 • Move the Stone

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.

John 11:28-37 • Here and Calling

After bringing her pain and disappointment to Jesus and being sensitively escorted by him into a fuller understanding of who he is, John 11:28 tells us Martha delivered a deeply moving private message from him to her sister. She told Mary, “Jesus is here and calling for you.”

It’s hard to imagine that Mary hadn’t been notified of the Lord’s arrival in Bethany at the same time as Martha. They were grieving their brother’s passing together within a group of mourners. So, when Martha got the news and immediately went to meet him, it seems Mary made a personal choice not to. And I can understand that. There’ve been times when I’ve felt so let down by Jesus that I didn’t want to talk to him either.

Still, Jesus specifically reached out to her through Martha to assure her that in the midst of the heartache, confusion, and discouragement she was experiencing, he was present and inviting her to come to him.

Verse 29 tells us she quickly responded to his loving invitation, and verses 30 through 37 describe their encounter. Jesus didn’t scold her for hesitating to come sooner. He didn’t offer an explanation even though he knew a dramatic miracle was on its way. He simply allowed to her express her sense of betrayal and wept with her.

And that brings back a very vivid memory.

At the beginning of 1993, I had uprooted my family from their home, schools, church, and a city we all loved because I’d been asked by our denomination to provide pastoral leadership to a church in another part of our state that was in crises. It turned out to be a huge challenge. We had earnestly prayed before making the decision, but – almost immediately after moving – sensed we’d made a disastrous choice.

The church was in far worse shape than we were told, our kids had a very hard time adjusting, our finances took a hit, our marriage struggled, and I was mad at God. I found myself in the small, rural community of Visalia, CA – a place few people have ever heard of – feeling unappreciated, ineffective, unfruitful, and abandoned.

For several years prior, I’d attended a large gathering of pastors from around the world each fall in Southern California. It was always a highlight of my calendar. But that year I didn’t want to be around my peers and was in no mood to act like everything was OK between me and Jesus because it wasn’t. And I really couldn’t afford to go anyway which I was also upset about. But at the last-minute, I decided to go after all.

I entered the auditorium filled with 2,000 church leaders for the first session and tried to find a seat as far away as possible from the platform and anyone that might recognize me. I don’t recall the theme of the speaker’s message, but as he was concluding, he was encouraging us with a reminder that God had called us to the cities we served. With the implied answer being, "yes," he rhetorically asked, “Is there a man of God in New York? Is there a man of God in Chicago? Is there a man of God in Dallas? Is there a man of God in Los Angeles?” All world-class cities. And then he asked, “Is there a man of God in Visalia?”

I couldn’t believe it. Who’s ever heard of Visalia? But it was like Martha’s message to Mary, “Jesus is here and calling for you.”

After the meeting, I raced back to the room where I was staying, fell to my knees in the rich sense of his presence, and wept. I was awestruck all over again by the love of the one who showed up in my darkness and called me out of a crowd just so he could hold me in his arms while I unburdened my soul. And I rose from those sweet moments changed. My circumstances were the same, but I was now reconnected with my Savior and that made everything OK.

As with Mary, there was a miracle on its way that I wouldn’t have been able to understand at that point. But having the assurance of his empathy and nearness was really all I needed. And no matter what you’re going through, it’s all you need too.

Please hear this urgent, personal message from your Savior today, Jesus is here and calling for you.

John 11:21-27 • The Resurrection and the Life

As she brought the sting of her brother’s passing to Jesus, Martha expressed a very human mixture of both pain and belief. John 11:21 and 22 record her broken heart saying, “You could have prevented this,” while her faith was saying, “I still believe you can do something about it.” But these statements expose a very constrained perspective. And the conversation that follows in verses 23-27 reveals Jesus sensitively, compassionately, and purposefully escorting her toward an expanded and liberating one.

Like most us, she didn’t realize how much a fear of death was restricting her vision and restraining her spiritual freedom. She agreed with the Lord’s promise that Lazarus would rise again but said she believed it wouldn’t happen until “the last day.” And if you imagine that eternal life only begins at some point after this one has ended, then you can find yourself overly preoccupied with preserving this one, and our adversary will use the threat of its premature loss to blackmail you with fear.

Hebrews 2:14-15 tells us that part of Christ’s mission was to “…destroy him who had the power of death, that is, the devil, and release those who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage.” Of course, it’s natural and appropriate through healthy choices and reasonable caution to try and preserve your physical life. But like Martha, most of us don’t realize how much liberty we forfeit when we’re in the grip of the fear of losing it.

So, here we see Jesus calling one of his dear ones to an understanding that the life he offers begins the moment we place our faith in him and extends seamlessly into eternity unaffected by physical death. He told her that resurrection isn’t a future event, it’s a person. This passage contains the fifth of the “I am” statements in John’s Gospel. Jesus told Martha, “I AM the resurrection and the life,” and went on to say that that truth renders death both immaterial and impotent. He told her that those who believe in him may pass through the portal of physical death but never die.

I hope you’ll understand that I’m not trivializing what Martha was going through by sharing this story. But my wife and I really enjoy visiting Disneyland in Southern California where we live, and it’s been closed for months because of the Covid-19 pandemic. So, when we heard that Walt Disney World in Florida was allowed to reopen, we started considering the idea of making a trip out there to enjoy one of our favorite vacation activities.

We’ve been appropriately cautious regarding the virus, but last week, we boarded a plane and made a trip to the Sunshine State for a Disney fix. Was it risky? A little. But we found that the Disney company had gone to extraordinary lengths to protect their guests, and we had a wonderful time.

It devalues a precious gift from God when we take inappropriate risks and foolishly endanger our lives. On the other hand, it dishonors the magnitude of his salvation when we’re so concerned about not dying that we don’t really live.

But fear of death is not just about loss of life. It’s also about loss generally. There’s more than one kind of death a person can face. It’s possible to experience the death of a marriage, a friendship, or a dream for example. And the fear of that can be equally paralyzing. But Christ’s victory on the cross is expansive enough to swallow up that kind of anxiety as well.

At the close of this passage, Martha stepped into a fuller faith-perspective when she proclaimed her confidence in who Jesus IS. Belief in what he can DO is far less important than faith in who he IS. That’s the kind of faith that breaks the bonds of the fear of death.

Is that fear nibbling away at your life today? Are you anxious about losing something or someone? Remember, he IS the resurrection and the life.

John 11:17-20 • Heartache’s Question

It’s likely that Lazarus had already died by the time the urgent message from his sisters imploring Jesus to come to Bethany was received. Then, the Lord waited two more days before starting the journey. And John 11:17 states that by the time he arrived, Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days. Jesus’ apparent failure to answer their cry for help must have been heartbreaking and crushingly difficult for Martha and Mary to comprehend.

Verses 18-20 tell us that in the meantime, they’d been surrounded in their grief with the presence and comfort of friends as well as religious leaders who’d come from Jerusalem to be with them in their time of need.

Then, as word of the Lord’s imminent arrival reached them, we’re told that Martha immediately left that circle of support and went out to meet him, but Mary chose to remain with the mourners at their home. This difference in how they responded to Jesus in their time of disappointment and heartache begs an important question.

How should we handle those times of deep disillusionment when it feels like God has failed us? Do we run to bring our heartache and confusion to him or remain huddled with our grief and nurse our sense of betrayal?

I was a young staff pastor when I got a call in the middle of the night. An airline pilot who was part of the Bible study group I was leading had just perished in a plane crash. He was a new husband with a new baby, and his sudden passing shook me to my core.

My wife and I quickly joined the brigade of friends and family who were mourning with his wife and attempting to surround her with care and comfort. And although we all did our best to provide what she needed, we quickly discovered the limitations of what we could offer.

But I was amazed to watch her purposefully gather up her load of unbearable pain, profound loss, overwhelming fear, along with deep confusion and bring it to Jesus. It wasn’t that she was in denial of her grief process. But she had awakened, at a very deep level, to an awareness of her desperate need for the Savior in that dark season. And it was a wonder to witness the indescribable peace that began to settle over her soul as she welcomed the Lord’s presence into her pain and allowed him to shoulder her burden.

I believe that’s what opened the door to one of the most amazing things I’ve ever witnessed.

After I’d finished my part in the funeral service and taken my seat in the front row of the chapel, our lead pastor offered his closing remarks. He gave a brief and simple presentation of the gospel followed by an invitation to receive the saving grace of Jesus. He asked everyone to bow their heads. Then, he welcomed those who wanted to become Christ-followers to lift their eyes to meet his, and by that act acknowledge their decision.

Honestly, I was embarrassed by what he was doing. In the wake of such a devastating tragedy, I couldn’t imagine anyone choosing that moment to place their faith in Jesus. But with my head bowed and eyes closed, I heard my pastor begin to acknowledge those who were responding. I was so surprised, that I opened my eyes and started scanning the crowd for myself. And sure enough, people were committing their lives to Christ. And one specific couple captured my attention – the pilot’s parents. They walked into that service as unbelievers with every reason to not want anything to do with God. But they left that day having opened their hearts to the love of Jesus.

Disappointment, confusion, and sorrow always present us with a choice. And much is at stake. Do we wrap ourselves in the blanket of our pain and let it define our future or do we place it in the nail-scarred hands of the one whose comfort and power release redemption, restoration, renewal, and resurrection.

John 11:11-16 • A Rough Road on the Way to a Glorious Destination

Have you ever wished God would be more clear about something? I think every Christian has, especially when we're going through something difficult and are desperate to know why. Often in those situations, both the Bible and the inner voice of the Spirit seem silent or the answers given insufficient or confusing.

That’s what happened in John chapter 11 verses 11-16 when Jesus attempted to explain to his disciples why he’d waited before departing for Bethany to be with his sick friend. He tried to help them understand that he’d purposefully allowed Lazarus to die and sufficient time to pass so there could be no doubt about his being deceased. That way, when the Lord dramatically brought him back to life, their faith would increase.

But they struggled to comprehend.

Jesus was being neither cute nor mysterious when he told them that Lazarus was asleep. He was simply employing a commonly used idiom. And they would have immediately understood it in the context of the seriousness of Lazarus’s illness to mean that he had died. But the Lord added that he was going to wake him. And in their limited perspective, this changed the context. So, instead of understanding the combined statement as a figure of speech, they were forced to take him literally, and couldn’t grasp why Jesus needed to travel all the way to Bethany just to wake Lazarus from a nap.

Even when Jesus patiently clarified what he meant, they still seemed to have trouble putting it together.  First, even though Luke’s Gospel tells us they had twice previously witnessed Jesus bring someone back to life, it certainly wasn’t an everyday occurrence, and they likely struggled to believe he could do it after so much time had passed. And second, they must have been taken aback when he said he was happy about all this for their sakes because it would cause their faith to grow. What about the suffering of Lazarus and his sisters? He seemed to be saying this was a good thing.

But the rest of this story makes it very clear that Jesus wasn’t being unloving or insensitive. He was deeply moved by the profound suffering of his friends. But he was trying to help his disciples grasp the truth that sometimes God must allow us to experience a rough road on the way to a glorious destination when there’s no other route available.

Although from everything the Bible reveals about the nature of God, we can be confident he didn’t cause Lazarus’s sickness or death, it’s clear from the text that Jesus did allow it. But there’s a profound difference between causing and allowing. And this episode reveals that sometimes it’s just not possible for us to grasp from our limited perspective the wonderful things our unlimited God is up to in the midst of a challenging circumstance.

That can be a hard thing for us to admit. We give ourselves way too much credit. We like to think that the comprehension issue is never our fault. If God would just make himself clear, we’d certainly be able to understand. But this passage illustrates that that’s just not the case and beckons us to exercise more humility. It invites us to become more comfortable trusting the love and wisdom of our good God than insisting we understand.

In fact, I seem to remember a verse about that. Proverbs 3:5 says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding.”

John 11:7-10 • Freedom from Fear

Jesus had just received word that his friend, Lazarus, was gravely ill. But instead of setting out at once for the town of Bethany to be with him and his sisters in their time of need, he remained where he was.

Bethany was in the region of Judea and a suburb of Jerusalem where the religious elite had just recently tried to kill him on two separate occasions. So, his disciples must have assumed that his choice not to go was based on concern for his safety. But then, after two days, John 11:7 says he abruptly announced he was going after all and invited them to come along.

This obviously took them by surprise, and in verse 8, they questioned him about the wisdom of putting himself in harm’s way. But his answer in verses 9 and 10 made it clear the decision to not go sooner wasn’t made on the basis of fear.

He had twice previously (John 8:12 and 9:5) said he was “the light of the world.” So, they would have understood what he meant when, speaking metaphorically, he explained that if you keep your gaze fixed on the “light of this world,” you can boldly walk without being afraid of stumbling. He said it’s only the spiritually nocturnal – those who stick to the shadows – that have to worry about getting tripped up.

Let’s stop and consider the importance of these statements because a lot of us deal with fear. It takes many forms: fear of failure, fear of change, fear of heights, fear of flying, fear of spiders, fear of needles, fear of the future, fear of the dark, fear of missing out, etc. And although there’s probably not a technical term for it, early in my adulthood I experienced the sudden onset of a terrifying fear of being over water on a bridge.

My wife and I had just moved to the San Francisco area to join the pastoral staff of a new church, and some friends had come to visit. We took them to see the Golden Gate Bridge, and it was such a beautiful day, we decided to join a crowd of tourists and walk the span.

Everything was going well until we reached the point beyond the city-side anchorage where the bridge structure is suspended over the waters of the bay. Then suddenly, I had a panic attack, fell to my knees, and had to crawl back to where I felt safe. My reaction took me completely by surprise and was extremely embarrassing.

I’d crossed many bridges in my life to that point without ever experiencing an ounce of fear. But at that moment, I was truly terrified. And from that point on, crossing bridges over water became a serious issue for me made worse by the fact that God had called me to serve his church in a region connected by a network of them.

I tried avoidance, but that just wasn’t feasible in the Bay Area and didn’t work anyway. So, as an intelligent person who knew my anxiety was completely irrational, I tried reasoning with myself. But that didn’t work either. So, I decided to just give it time thinking it would eventually pass. It didn’t, and I finally came to terms with the fact that this was really a spiritual issue.

There are certainly rational fears that help protect us from harm. But irrational, constraining, and debilitating fears are not from God and keep us from experiencing life as he intends. In fact, 2 Timothy 1:7 says, “…God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.” And Romans 8:15 tells us we “…did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but…the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, ‘Abba [or daddy], Father.’"

Both passages reveal that there’s a demonic personality at work behind our phobias but that it can be overcome by the powerfully liberating work of the Holy Spirit. And it’s clear from what Jesus told his disciples that fixing your gaze intently on him is what releases the Spirit to dispel our fears.

Once I understood this, every time I crossed a bridge, I would prayerfully look straight ahead as though I was literally focusing on the Lord, and found myself stepping out of the darkness of fear into the light of the power of the Spirit. And soon, I was completely free.

Are you being exploited by a spirit of fear? Stop stumbling in the shadows it produces and choose instead to step out into the sure footing of the light of Jesus. He’s ready if you are.

John 11:1-6 • A Win-Win Situation

Recently, one of my lifelong and best friends passed into eternity. By the time the cancer was discovered, he was diagnosed as terminal. When we spoke by phone, he invited me to join him in prayer for a miraculous healing, and he told me something I’ll never forget. He said he was in “a win-win situation.”

That unexpected statement startled me, and I was unsure how to respond at first. But as I considered it, I began to understand what he meant. My friend was referring to a joyous juxtaposition. His was the privilege of looking forward with glad anticipation to either the blessing of a miraculous healing or the even greater thrill of entering the eternal presence of his Savior.

It wasn’t a fatalistic expression of unbelief. He was describing the powerfully soul-securing state of every believer encountering life’s challenges. We are never victims at the mercy of our circumstances. We are victors in Christ no matter the outcome. His cross and resurrection have so completely overcome the dark intentions of any strategy of hell formed against us that we are always in “a win-win situation.” And although the circumstances we face are not always a matter of life and death, God’s will and ways can always be fully trusted without fear. That’s the glory behind 1 Corinthians 15:54: “Death is swallowed up in victory.”

And that truth connects directly to the amazing events described in John 11 which opens with an introduction to a set of siblings – Lazarus and his two sisters, Mary and Martha. This trio was new to John’s Gospel but not to his audience. Those early believers would’ve already been aware of them through both oral accounts and earlier-written Gospels. That’s why in verse 2 he could identify this Mary as the one who anointed the Lord with fragrant oil taking for granted his readers were aware of that event even though he hadn’t recounted that part of the story yet.

Although we’re not given the backstory, it’s clear that this family enjoyed a close relationship with Jesus. So, when Lazarus became seriously ill, his sisters sent word to let him know, indirectly pleading with him, on the basis of their friendship, to come and heal their brother. The response Jesus sent back in verse 4 assured them that this sickness would not result in death and that God would be glorified through it.

Then, we’re told something so striking that every time I read this passage I pause, shake my head, and contemplate its impact. Verses 5 and 6 state that because Jesus loved Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, he remained where he was for two more days.

This is completely unexpected. I always come to this section subconsciously anticipating it will say that because he loved them, he rushed to gather his belongings and raced to be with them in their time of need. But that’s not what happened. And although there is much more to come in this amazing and miraculous episode, let’s not miss the fact that it began with what seemed for all the world to be a heartless lack of action by the Savior.

I know what that feels like. There have been several times in my life when it seemed that God was unresponsive to my needs and I’d been left to wonder if he really loved me after all. And I’ll bet you’ve been there too. Maybe you’re there right now. If so, please let me encourage you that no matter what it may have seemed like at the moment of my disappointment when Jesus wasn’t responding in the way I’d hoped, he’s always proven himself loving, faithful, and powerful on my behalf in the end even when things turned out differently than I expected. Rest assured, that will be true for you as well. As followers of Christ, secure in his love and power, we are always in a “win-win situation.”

John 10:31-42 • Walk the Talk

Recently, another very prominent Christian leader was discovered to be involved in a sex scandal. And it broke my heart, as this kind of thing always does, not only for the damage to his life, his family, and his reputation, but for the wider fallout that affects all those in the circle of his influence. There is no private sin. When what we do fails to match what we say, it always wounds others and discredits our testimony.

But none of us is perfect. So, I’m grateful that Ephesians 4:8-9 states emphatically that salvation is a gift from God received by faith and not based on our works. God’s grace to forgive can never be overwhelmed by our failures.

But James 2:17 says that faith without works is dead. In other words, true faith is always a claim confirmed by action. And that truth challenges us to freshly consider whether our deeds confirm our declarations.

The final dozen verses of the tenth chapter of John describe Jesus purposefully drawing attention to his works.

The Pharisees were in the act of picking up rocks to stone him to death when – with biting sarcasm – Jesus asked which of his good works they were about to kill him for. Was it feeding the hungry, freeing spiritual captives, embracing outcasts, healing the sick? But they said the issue wasn’t his works. It was his claim. By claiming to be the Son of God he was guilty of blasphemy and deserved to die according to their law.

In response, he reminded them of Psalm 82 where God rebuked those who’d received a commission to serve as judges. They’d betrayed that calling by favoring the wicked instead of defending the poor, the fatherless, the afflicted, and the needy. Still, God (with an upper case “G”) referred to them as gods (with a lower case “g”). So, Jesus asked why it should be considered blasphemy to refer to himself as the Son of God, when he was the one sent by the Father to redeem their failures?

When the Pharisees had no answer, he corrected the basis of their indictment by pointing out that it really was about his works. If his works didn’t back it up, his claim was meaningless.

This only fanned the flames of their fury, and they tried to arrest him. But he escaped to a place along the Jordan River where John the Baptist had conducted his ministry. And we’re told that many people came to him there and confessed their faith in him specifically because John’s claims about him had been confirmed by his works.

It’s clear from this passage that there’s an important connection between claims and works, words and deeds, rhetoric and action. The significance of this relationship is at the heart of sayings like, “practice what you preach,” “actions speak louder than words,” and “if you’re going to talk the talk, you’ve got to walk the walk.”

Do our works align with our testimony? I believe this critical question needs to be asked and answered daily by all of us who claim to be Jesus-followers.

But I confess, most days, I’d rather avoid it. I don’t want to have to admit that I often don’t live my faith as fully as I’d like. Perhaps that’s true for you too. But if so, there’s good news for both of us.

In Acts 1:8, Jesus said the Holy Spirit would empower us to be his witnesses – to live as his representatives in this world. That means that when our works don’t match our claim, the story isn’t over and we’re not on our own to rewrite it. With humility and repentance, if we regularly and prayerfully welcome the Spirit’s transforming work in our lives, he has the power to enable us to “walk the talk.”