New Year 2026 – The Gospel of John
To begin the New Year, we return to the wonderful Gospel of John, starting at the beginning of chapter 11…
Note: all Inspirations are now uploaded for the week – scroll down for Friday’s, and earlier posts…
Saturday 31st January – John 12:45-50 ‘All I have spoken’
The Trinity is an eternal mystery – God who is three-in-one and one-in-three, perfect unity and also perfect community: Father, Son and Spirit. They are all equally God, but they also have different roles or functions as part of the Godhead.
Today’s passage is a case in point. Jesus is the complete and representation of the Father – Yahweh – on earth: (v45) ‘The one who looks at me is seeing the one who sent me.’ But that does not mean he is the Father himself – he remains the Son, which means he has a different role: (vv47-48a) ‘I did not come to judge the world, but to save the world. There is a judge for the one who rejects me and does not accept my words.’ The Son saves, the Father in heaven ultimately judges.
But, lest we split them too far apart, the Father’s judgement rests on people’s response to the Son’s message: (vv48b-49) ‘the very words I have spoken will condemn them at the last day. For I did not speak on my own, but the Father who sent me commanded me to say all that I have spoken.’
So Jesus is not outsourcing judgment to the Father, and the Father is not outsourcing the gospel message to the Son – they are both fully God, indivisible and fully united on everything.
It’s pretty hard to get your head around, isn’t it? And at one level, that’s the point – we are not God – we are simply invited to trust in this great God and, wonderfully, experience the amazing, eternal, abundant life he offers. This is a hard passage, and it’s not easy to talk about judgment. But, as we close our week, let’s land here, in this last verse. God’s heart is ultimately that we should be saved, that mercy would triumph over judgment (James 2:13). Jesus’ message is ultimately a reflection of the Father’s heart: (v50) ‘I know that his command leads to eternal life.’
God longs that we would know life. He sent Jesus to save us, that we might experience that life. The last few days has been a challenging read, but what a great way to end it! Jesus both brings and is the good news of the Father. May that good news bubble up in our hearts, minds and spirits today – hallelujah!
Friday 30th January – John 12:42-47 ‘The One who sent me’
If you want to know exactly what God is like, look at Jesus.
Such has been the conclusion of church leaders and scholars down the centuries. For example, Archbishop Michael Ramsey famously declared: ‘God is Christlike, and in him is no un-Christlikeness at all.’
But this is not one of those statements that has been fathomed out by clever reasoning, or mature reflection on the text of scripture, important though those are. No, this central tenet of the faith comes directly from Jesus himself, most clearly in today’s passage: (v45) ‘The one who looks at me is seeing the one who sent me.’ In other words: If you want to know exactly what God is like, look at Jesus.
This profound revelation unfolds in two directions in our text for today. The first is a challenge; after the persistent unbelief of one group of people that we looked at yesterday, today we meet a different group: those who do believe in Jesus, but are afraid to acknowledge their faith openly (v42). John ascribes this reticence to fear of stigma and consequent loss of status: ‘fear they would be put out of the synagogue.’ He concludes: ‘they loved human praise more than praise from God.’ (v43)
If this sounds harsh, then what Jesus says makes it clear that such fear is missing the point. In seeing Jesus they are seeing Yahweh, their Lord, the very One they profess to worship and follow. How could they keep quiet about that?
Although it is easy to judge such attitudes, Jesus refuses to (v47). Candidly, frail as we are, it remains a temptation for any of us, too. If this is something we struggle with, or someone we know, let’s take heart from the other dimension to Jesus’ statement – a great encouragement: (v46) ‘I have come into the world as a light, so that no-one who believes in me should stay in darkness.’ God is light, and Jesus – the true and exact revelation of God – is the light that illumines all our paths. If we honour him in all circumstances, if we resist the temptation to hide our faith, Jesus’ light will shine brightly, showing us the way.
May the Lord grant us all grace to see Jesus as he really is, and may his light give us courage and direction, today and every day. Amen.
Thursday 29th January – John 12:37-41 ‘They still would not believe’
‘In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord, high and exalted, seated on a throne; and the train of his robe filled the temple.’ So begins the sixth chapter of the great prophet Isaiah, someone who was privileged to witness what few people ever get the chance to see in this life: heaven itself. However, it did not initially seem to be a privilege, as Isaiah recounts: (v5) ‘”Woe to me!” I cried. “I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty.”’
Thankfully, Isaiah’s fears proved unfounded – he was cleansed and spoke directly with the Lord himself, who commissioned him to take God’s message to the people. And it is in this commissioning that we have the background to today’s passage. We cannot fully grasp what Jesus is sharing here unless we go back to Isaiah 6, because Jesus’ second quotation from Isaiah comes directly from Isaiah’s vision of God in that very prophecy. And it begs the awkward question: does God stop people believing? That appears to be the surface meaning of what God says to Isaiah, and at the very least gives us pause for thought.
However, it’s not the whole meaning. The context of most of the book of Isaiah – including ch6 – is the persistent, stubborn unbelief of his people. God reveals himself again and again; yet people refuse to repent or trust. So, eventually, God lets them have their wishes.
This is very much Jesus’ experience, too; today’s passage begins: (v37) ‘Even after Jesus had performed so many signs in their presence, they still would not believe in him.’ It’s hard to credit, isn’t it? So many signs, and yet some people simply refuse to come to Jesus. This is why John goes back to Isaiah, partly to demonstrate that, sadly, ‘twas ever thus. There is nothing new under the sun.
But there’s also a golden thread of hope – because Isaiah’s conversation with the Lord in the throne room concludes with God saying that judgement would follow, but ‘the holy seed will be the stump in the land’ (Isaiah 6:13). The stump is, of course, Jesus – the ‘shoot of Jesse’ (Is 11:1) which will bear fruit and bring salvation – the Messiah who is here, right now, before the crowds. John makes the link clear by declaring that ‘Isaiah said this because he saw Jesus’ glory and spoke about him.’ (v41) What an amazing thought – that Jesus was there, in that heavenly conversation, knowing that he would fulfil the Father’s word to Isaiah seven or more centuries later!
Today’s passage is both a challenge and an inspiration: a reminder that some people will remain stubborn in their unbelief, despite mountains of evidence to the contrary. On the other hand, Jesus comes anyway to just such stubborn people, people like us, with the deep longing of the Father’s heart to heal them (v40). No-one is beyond the love of God; no-one is beyond rescue this side of the grave. Let’s keep praying for those we love, and let’s give thanks that God keeps overcoming our own stubbornness. His arm (v38) is always stretched out to save.
Wednesday 28th January – John 12:34-36 ‘Becoming children of light’
At this time of year, we are familiar with the idea of light not lasting very long! In fact, as I write this reflection mid-afternoon, Jesus’ words ‘you are going to have the light just a little while longer’ rings true in a very literal sense. At this time of year, any tasks which require daylight also require us to keep an eye on the time, in case darkness overtakes us.
Jesus reminds his hearers that light being overtaken by darkness is also about to happen in the spiritual realms. Even if it is correct for his questioners to say that the Messiah carries eternal authority and therefore will indeed remain forever (v34), he wants them to know that the human life of the Messiah will be short, and about to cease (v35). The two are not mutually exclusive: as we saw yesterday, the Son of Man will reign forever precisely through his sacrificial death.
His advice is simple: believe in the light (v36), and walk in the light (v35). As he is the Light of the World, Jesus is inviting them (and all people) to believe in him. But it’s about more than just believing: since the Light (ch8) is also the Way (ch14), then we are to follow this Way – which is another way of saying, as Jesus puts it in this passage, that we are to walk in the light.
It’s a lovely image, and a very practical one: it’s much easier to navigate by light rather than darkness. If you try and do it in the dark, you won’t know where you are going (v35). Jesus’ light leads us in the way which leads to abundant, eternal life.
And as we walk in the light, something else happens: we become what we behold, we ‘become children of light.’ (v36) It’s an image St Paul picks up in his letter to the Ephesians – and here we can see how so much of what Jesus teaches has been passed down to the early Christian leaders: ‘For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth).’ (Ephesians 5:8-9)
If the fruit of the light sounds like something of a mixed metaphor, let’s not forget that most plants need light to grow – and in this case, as we walk in the light and become children of light, the ‘fruit’ that grows in us is goodness, righteousness and truth. It’s a pretty fair summary of the sort of life Jesus had in mind when he addressed the crowd in today’s passage.
So, today, may the Lord grant us all grace to walk in the light of the Lord – and let’s pray that this light may shine forth in goodness, righteousness and truth. Amen.
Tuesday 27th January – John 12:27-33 ‘I will draw all people’
Human beings have long associated glory with elevation. The winner of a gold medal stands on the top step, higher than those who come second or third (or lower). A monarch usually sits on a seat which is raised off the ground. Even in old churches, it is traditional to have at least one step from the main seating area into the area where the bread and wine is blessed. It’s a physical expression of the ‘lifting up’ which accompanies glory.
As we observed a couple of reflections ago, Jesus uses this particular phrase ‘lifted up’ to describe what is about to happen to him. It is both a literal description of his crucifixion, but also a spiritual description of what he will achieve through it. The word can also mean exaltation, which is a extraordinary description of (what was seen as) a criminals’ death, and marvellously illustrates how our amazing Lord turns everything upside-down and makes all things new.
In today’s passage Jesus himself describes this lifting up as representing three things. First, it is his destiny: (v27) ‘for this very reason I came to this hour.’ Every gospel makes it very clear that what happens to Jesus is no accident, and Jesus is supremely aware of this, including the terrible cost: (v27) ‘my soul is troubled’.
Second, it is a judgement on this world – the moment at which the forces of evil are defeated (v31). And yet, at the same time it is also, thirdly, the moment when Jesus ‘will draw all people to myself’ (v32). How can it be a moment of both judgment and invitation? Because Jesus takes the punishment which the judgement of this world decrees upon himself. The judgement is enacted upon him, so that all of us can be beckoned into the new life of God. Jesus has paid the price of judgement on our behalf.
No wonder he calls out: (v28) ‘Father glorify your name!’ To which his heavenly Father replies: ‘I have glorified it, and will glorify it again.’ To those watching Jesus being executed at Mount Moriah (the place of the skull, or Calvary), it can hardly have seemed like his moment of glory, his moment of ‘lifting up’/exaltation. And yet, this is what enables to great prophesy of Isaiah to be enacted: ‘The mountain of the Lord’s temple… will be exalted (lifted up) above the hills, and all nations will stream to it.’ (Isaiah 2:5)
Praise God that he has drawn us to himself! Jesus’ lifting up has won our salvation, and his name is forever glorified. Today, let’s pray for Jesus to draw others, too – people we know and love, our community, any we are led to remember before the Lord. May the Father continue to glorify Jesus’ name again, and again. Amen.
Monday 26th January – John 12:20-27 ‘Whoever serves must follow’
If you watch a programme nowadays you may hear this message before it begins, or written near the top of the opening scene: ‘Warning: may contain content unsuitable for some viewers.’
A similar ‘warning’ could well be applied to our passage for today. It begins with some unexpected visitors – and here we can see a lovely parallel with Philip’s own encounter with Jesus in the first chapter of John (1:43-51), only this time he brings some Greek visitors to Jesus, rather than Nathanael. However, unlike the first encounter, Jesus takes the conversation in a very different direction, reflecting the different moment in which he finds himself.
‘We would like to see Jesus.’ It’s a wonderful opening request – but the rest of the passage could effectively be subtitled: ‘What would you really like to see?’ Or perhaps: ‘When you really see Jesus, and what’s about to happen, you may not like what you’re about to see as much as you think.’ Be careful what you wish for.
Let’s be clear that Jesus is not pushing these visitors away; but he does use the opportunity to be candid with those who are flocking to him, to make them aware of where this is all heading. Jesus knows he is heading towards his sacrificial death – but he makes the broader point that ‘losing one’s life’ is intrinsic to the way of Jesus (v25). For many of us that may not be literal martyrdom, but for all of us it means a fundamental change of focus: we orientate ourselves away from the seductions of this world towards another kind of life entirely, the abundant, eternal ‘zoe’ life of Jesus.
‘Whoever serves me must follow me.’ (v26) You can imagine the potential shock for Jesus’ visitors to hear these words. What, really, Jesus? Follow you like this? He does, however, add a great promise: ‘My Father will honour the one who serves me.’ We honour (serve) Jesus by actually following him – thinking like he thinks, living like he lives, loving like he loves – and receive honour from our heavenly Father in return.
This is the Way which our Lord call us to follow. As we begin this week, may the Lord grant us all grace to follow in the dust of our heavenly Rabbi, trusting that he will honour all who serve him. There, indeed, we will see Jesus.
Saturday 24th January: John 17:15-23 ‘That they may be one’
This week is the annual Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. Today, we skip forward a few chapters in John to honour the importance of this week, and what it means for us.
This is a subject dear to our hearts, since our team of churches in Walton is an ecumenical one: that is, we are a united community representing several Christian traditions, all committed to each other, for the glory of God. It is not an easy path: for churches like ours to function well requires a lot of grace and understanding. But the price is worth it, as I believe – and still believe! – that churches like ours are a true reflection of God’s heart, of his longing for a renewed people who truly live as one global family. This is, after all, what Jesus prays for us in today’s iconic passage.
It is tempting to join a church where people are ‘all like us’: but true discipleship calls us to go beyond our naturally limited ambitions. Christ came for all of us, and all of our sisters and brothers are precious. To be one is not to be the same, but rather to celebrate our uniqueness and diversity within a common vision that what unites us is always more than what divides us.
This is the path we have chosen. It probably won’t ever look ‘successful’, but it is precious and beautiful, and we pray that God will be merciful to us and continue to bless us.
So, let’s pray today for our church, that we might continue to celebrate our oneness, for the glory of God. But let’s also pray for our team, for churches across Milton Keynes and ultimately for churches across the world, that unity would grow. As our world seems to be ever more divided, it has never been more important for the church to be a prophetic sign of loving unity, of seeing human barriers broken down and covered over by the grace of God.
And may God grant us grace to be one, that ‘the world might know that you sent me, and have loved them, even as you have loved me’ (v23). Amen.
Friday 23rd January – John 12:19-24 ‘The hour has come’
If you like watching thrillers, you’ll know the moment in the story when the tables turn. The heroes have their backs against the wall – but suddenly the very thing that their captors or enemies thought they had under their control is turned against them, and the heroes prevail. The idea repeats itself so often that we more or less take it for granted. We rarely stop to think where it comes from, why humanity so often needs to tell such stories – or indeed to trace it back to the greatest ‘table-turn’ of them all.
As we reflected yesterday, Jesus sees the bigger picture well before anybody else does – he knows where this is leading, and, amazingly, he goes there anyway. And what we see in today’s passage is Jesus ‘turning the tables’ on the very idea the Sanhedrin were discussing after the raising of Lazarus – let’s head back briefly to Caiaphas’ words in 11:50: ‘It is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish.’ One person for all people…
…exactly what Jesus has in mind – but here’s how he describes it in today’s passage: (v24) ‘Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.’ It’s the same ‘one on behalf of all’ image – but notice the crucial difference. Jesus is not just saving others from death (which he is), he is also bringing life to many. The very thing Caiaphas describes brings so much more than Caiaphas can imagine: it brings life, it reproduces itself multiple times over.
Jesus calls this his moment of glory – and let’s not miss how radical this description is. How is the ‘the Son of Man… glorified’? (v23) By his sacrificial death. What a world-changing definition of glory! Who else before Jesus could possibly have thought of glory like this? And in the 2,000 years since, the vast majority of the extraordinary human beings who have also lived like this have been inspired by the original blueprint of Jesus’ own life and death.
Near the start of the gospel (ch3), Jesus foretold this moment when talking with Nicodemus: he calls it his ‘lifting up’ (3:14). But it doesn’t refer to his resurrection, what you might call his subsequent and ultimate ‘lifting up’, or even his ascension into heaven. It refers to his death – his lifting up on the wooden cross. This, for Jesus, is the ‘hour’ when he is glorified, and draws people to himself.
What a wonderful Saviour we have! Today, let’s give thanks for Jesus’ courage, his obedience, and way his abundant life has marvellously reproduced in us. We are his ‘seeds’ – may we too keep growing in this abundant life and hope which our glorified Lord won for us. Amen.
Thursday 22nd January – John 12:1-19 (reprise) ‘Collateral damage’
Some years ago I watched a fascinating programme about child behaviour. Ten boys and ten girls (none of whom knew each other) were each invited to a location to live under the same roof for a limited time. Their behaviour was observed by psychologists, and the aim of the programme was to show how they formed relationships and interacted.
There were lots of striking things about the programme – but one thing that stuck with me was that in each group there was one troubled child, who found it hard not to get their own way, to observe guidelines or behavioural norms, or to form healthy relationships. And this one child made the life of the rest of the group very difficult indeed. No matter that 9 were broadly well-adjusted – it just took 1 to ‘spoil’ the group.
It’s just one example, but so often we see something similar in society. It only takes a small number of troubled people to cause a lot of damage for everybody else. Underneath the dramatic narrative of the Anointing at Bethany and the Triumphal Entry we see a similar pattern at work: among the disciples there is Judas (vv4-6); among the vast crowds there are the Pharisees (vv10-11,19).
For all the disciples’ journey with Jesus over three years, it just took one disillusioned soul to betray him. For all the enthusiasm and worship of the crowds, it just took a small number of determined opponents to get Jesus arrested, and then sway the crowds to turn against him.
Even Lazarus risked becoming collateral damage in this powerplay: it is a bitter irony indeed that the man who had just been resurrected now fears for his life simply for the impertinence of being very much alive (v10)!
Jesus, of course, knew all this. Although anybody else might also be seen as collateral damage in the face of frustrated ambition and corrupt power, he retains this extraordinary sense of being in control of a narrative which appears to be happening around him. Jesus’ divine identity is so great that he can even redeem the very things that are against him, the very people who want to destroy him. Indeed their plotting ultimately only served to achieve his purposes, and – in another moment of great irony – make the Pharisees’ greatest fear become very much a reality: (v19) ‘Look how the whole world has gone after him!’
Look indeed. And we still do – 2,000 years later, the world is still going after Jesus: some, sadly, to persecute, many more to follow. We too, are invited to go after Jesus: to meet him, to marvel at him, to worship him. And may the Lord stir our hearts today, as it did those crowds, to declare with our lips and our lives: ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!’ Amen.
Wednesday 21st January – John 12:12-19 ‘Blessed is the King!’
Palm Sunday is such a familiar story to many of us; we celebrate it every year, on the Sunday before Easter Day. The image of Jesus riding on a donkey into Jerusalem is one etched into our minds, and we usually approach the day with a mixture of excitement and awe. Excitement that privations of Lent are nearly over, that the biggest week of our year is upon us, that the crowds are cheering Jesus on. And awe, perhaps, too, because we know what comes next, and how quickly the crowd turns. How quickly perhaps we turn, too.
On Palm Sunday Jesus reveals himself as both the Jewish Messiah and the King for the whole world. The donkey is significant, as John’s quotation of Zechariah makes clear: Jesus was proclaiming his humility, but also fulfilling a great prophecy which related to God’s anointed rescuer. That’s why the crowds were excited. The Rescuer was arriving in Jerusalem, just as Zechariah had predicted 500 years ago.
But even as Jesus raises their hopes, he confounds them too. Not just the donkey – prophecy or no prophecy, what sort of king arrives on a donkey? – his first act (not recorded by John, but recorded in the other gospels) is to go into the temple and challenge the materialism and corruption of the biggest festival in the Jewish year.
Jesus came, but not as they expected him to.
And that theme is one which runs through the whole of the gospels. Jesus constantly surprises us. He comes, but not as we expect. Born a King, but not in a palace, rather an animals’ feeding trough. He prefers the company of the disreputable to the respectable. He is rejected by his home town. He challenges the prevailing interpretation of the Sabbath laws. He withdraws whenever popular excitement gets too much. He demonstrates his authority ,but tells people to keep quiet about it.
And then… he arrives in Jerusalem as King, but on a donkey not a stallion. He receives the embrace of the crowd but then challenges their religious practice. He doesn’t even stay in the city, but as Mark records, leaves and spends the nights in Bethany. In our days of PR gurus and image management, no self-respecting adviser would recommend any of these things. What sort of a king is he?
He comes, but not as we expect.
And the good news of this passage is that this is exactly what Jesus does, and still does. He is not an upholder of the religious establishment or the old ways. Jesus is not limited to our buildings or our books. He is always making everything new. His Spirit, like the wind, is wild and free. He is perfectly able to meet with us where we are, to bring us joy in unexpected places, and the peace that transcends understanding. He is with us right now….
Today, let’s approach this extraordinary Saviour with that same mixture of excitement and awe. And may the Lord still come to us in unexpected ways today.
Tuesday 20th January – John 12:1-11 ‘A preparation for burial’
The beautiful story of the anointing at Bethany is also one of the most debated – at least, John’s version is. Why does he change the details? And does this cast doubt on the reliability of the bible?
Let’s tackle this head-on today. And we have to start by acknowledging that this account does appear to be a splicing together of the other two ‘anointings’ in the other gospels: the early episode where a ‘sinful woman’ pours perfume over Jesus’ feet at the house of Simon the Pharisee (Luke 7:36-50) and the other Bethany anointing accounts in Matthew and Mark where an unnamed woman pours expensive perfume over Jesus’ head (Matthew 26:6-13, Mark 14:1-11). So, here in John’s account, in a house in Bethany near to the time of Jesus’ death (like Matthew’s and Mark’s accounts), Mary pours perfume over Jesus’s feet (like Luke, albeit a different location at a different time).
It is possible to harmonise most of the discrepancies: Simon the Leper – the owner of the house in Bethany according to Matthew and Mark – could be another brother to Mary, Martha and Lazarus, or indeed the first name of Lazarus himself. In that case, Mary could then be the unnamed woman in the account of Matthew and Mark. In similar vein, Mary could have anointed both Jesus’ head and Jesus’ feet, so both accounts are true. In this line of thinking, the gospels give us two anointings of Jesus: by an unnamed woman early in his ministry (recorded by Luke) and by Mary at Bethany recorded by Matthew, Mark and John, albeit with different details included.
This is possible – what isn’t possible is that John records a different time of this encounter. In Matthew and Mark, the anointing happens in what we now call Holy Week i.e. after Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. Here in John, it happens before – the triumphal entry comes next.
What are we to do with all this?
The first thing to say is that genuine eyewitness accounts differ – and their authenticity in fact relies on small differences between the accounts. That’s what makes them human, and credible.
The second thing to say is that we can still be sure that Jesus was anointed at Bethany – it’s recorded by three different writers – and that this anointing meant something important.
…which leads us onto the vital question of meaning and interpretation. John is very different to the other gospel writers. If the other writers are photographs, John is a portrait. For him, the meaning of the encounter is all-important. If that means a little latitude on the precise details, then this is justified if it illuminates who Jesus was and why he came more clearly. John wants us to truly believe that Jesus is the Servant King of all humanity. Therefore, he is anointed before he enters Jerusalem, since anointing was the act of declaring a king. But it was his feet, not his head, as a reminder of his humility – hence John also has the unique foot-washing episode at the Last Supper in a chapter’s time.
This may offend our scientific sensibilities; but truth goes deeper than simple precision. As a historian myself, I do struggle with John’s more cavalier attitude; but we need John in the canon of the bible – think what we would lose without him!
Ultimately, what is incontestable is that Jesus himself knew the significance of this encounter – and as our narrative moves into the decisive final week of Jesus’ life, may our hearts continue to anoint Jesus as our true King. And may that overflow in extravagant worship, as it did for Mary. Amen.
Monday 19th January – John 11:54-12:2 ‘He withdrew to the wilderness’
Today’s passage is one that can be read on two levels. In narrative terms, it forms a ‘quiet moment’ between the two emotional peaks of the dramatic raising of Lazarus (ch11) and the even more dramatic return to Jerusalem, which ultimately led to his arrest, trial, death and resurrection (ch12 onwards). Knowing that a very powerful group now wants to kill him (v53), not surprisingly Jesus withdraws from the public gaze (v54).
He finds a village about 13 miles from Jerusalem – far enough away to be out of sight, but close enough to be able to return in one day’s walk – where he stays with his disciples. And just as well: although Jesus is keeping a low profile, the crowds are still desperately looking for him: (v56) ‘Isn’t he coming to the festival at all?’ Moreover, the Pharisees have spies ready to pounce on any sighting of the notorious rabbi from Nazareth (v57).
Even when Jesus returns, he stops first in Bethany to see his great friends (12:1-2). Bethany is on the same side of Jerusalem as the village where he was staying, so Jesus doesn’t need to enter the city and can therefore retain a low profile until it’s time to ‘go public’ again.
That’s the practical explanation of what’s going on… but there’s a deeper meaning here, too. John calls the village ‘Ephraim’. This word has powerful connotations: it was the name of the patriarch Joseph’s second son, and it means ‘fruitful’ – so named because God had made him fruitful in Egypt, the ‘land of his affliction’ (Genesis 41:52). The actual name of the village was Ephron – mentioned in 2 Chronicles 13:19 – but I don’t think John is making a mistake, he knows what he’s doing. He wants us to understand two things: first, Jesus is recharging spiritually. So goes to the village called ‘fruitful’ to prepare himself for what is to come. It begs the question for us: where is your fruitful hideaway – the place you go to recharge?
Second, Ephraim is often used as the name for the whole northern kingdom of Israel. This village is not in that area – it’s in Judea, in the land of the tribe of Benjamin – but again, this is not a mistake. John is saying, in effect, that Jesus dwells for a season in ‘Ephraim’ (equating to the northern kingdom), before fulfilling his mission in Jerusalem (the southern) – in other words, he brings the two together, just as the great prophets foretold. Ephraim nourishes Jesus before he saves the world on a rocky outcrop in Judea. Jesus redeems the whole people of God as part of his mission to rescue all of humanity.
It turns out that there’s much in a name! As we begin our week, may the Lord grant us all times in ‘Ephraim’ – fruitful renewal – that we may also be fruitful in all that the Lord has for us: this day, and every day. Amen.
Saturday 17th January – Psalm 34 ‘The Taste’
As we conclude our week, a reflection from the Psalms:
I’ve always loved my food. I don’t have a big appetite, but I enjoy eating pretty much everything – finding as much joy in cheese and beans on toast as a gourmet dish. At school it became a lunchtime ritual for my friends to dare me to taste a bit of everything together, including mains and pudding. Like Remy in the film ‘Ratatouille’, you’d be amazed what surprising flavour combinations you can experience!
Today’s psalm reminds us of another kind of taste, albeit in many ways a spiritual version of tasting a bit of everything together in life: (v8) ‘Taste and see that the Lord is good.’ It was written after a particularly dramatic moment in David’s story (you can read the whole saga in 1 Samuel 21): fleeing from King Saul, and effectively under arrest with the Philistine king Achish (introduced in the starting notes to the psalm by the royal name Abimelek or Abimelech, depending on your translation) he pretended to be mad and was eventually run out of town.
What is instructive about David’s take on this escape is that he attributes its success not to his cunning, but to the Lord’s intervention and protection: (v6) ‘This poor man called, and the Lord heard him; he saved him out of all his troubles.’ In other words, although David took initiative, he knew that unless God changed the heart of King Achish, he was done for. David was rightly afraid (v4); but he recognises another, fruitful ‘fear’ – better translated as ‘awe’ or ‘reverence’ – the fear of the Lord. It is this reverent awe which invites both the Lord’s protection (v7) and provision (v9).
On this occasion, David wants to use his experience not just to testify but to teach (v11). He has learnt invaluable lessons, but, in the second half of the psalm, he wants to make sure we learn them, too. He is candid that even the righteous will have many troubles (v19), many challenges in this life – but we can trust the Lord to deliver us.
And so, back to the key verse of this psalm: to anyone who faces challenges, David’s advice is simple: ‘taste and see that the Lord is good’. In other words, give trusting God a try. Taste and see. See what happens, see what the Lord is able to do.
It’s great advice, and one which increasingly I offer to those who ask me. My years of Christian leadership and training have given me lots of arguments to persuade people; but in the end, what turns a person’s heart to the Lord most often is simply to ‘taste and see’. If God is real – as we know he is – then he’ll come through, we will experience that reality for ourselves. So, whatever you face today, may that be your reality, too. And as we recognise that the Lord’s eyes and ears are turned towards us (v15), let us exalt his name together!
Friday 16th January – John 11:49-53 ‘Better that one man die…’
Many years ago I was privileged to pastor a young lady who’d come to faith on an alpha course our church had run. I asked her how she’d found her way to Alpha. She replied that some people from church had been handing out fliers for alpha in the train station, and her partner had taken one. He’d got home, looked at the flier and thrown it in the bin. Arriving home from work later, she had noticed the flier in the bin and wondered it was. She fished it out, read it and decided to attend the course, despite her partner’s scepticism. As a result, she had marvellously come to faith, and was now seeking to follow Jesus!
This kind of amazing story reminds us that God can use even ‘negative’ actions, or opposition, to achieve his purposes. In fact, if her partner had not ‘opposed’ the course, but instead just filed the flier away somewhere, she may never have come to faith at that particular time. God was at work in a contested situation.
If that was a small (but miraculous) example of God’s ‘mysterious ways’, then today’s passage is arguably the biggest example of them all. Jesus’ actions have aroused the determined opposition of the religious leaders of his day. The raising of Lazarus – a clear demonstration of his Messianic identity – has significantly increased the stakes. Jesus is no longer just an unorthodox rabbi, he is a destabilising influence, a threat (v48). So, he must die. That is the blunt conclusion (v53).
But what the religious leaders don’t realise is that, albeit for completely the wrong reasons, they are only fulfilling the Lord’s purposes all along. In what must be the greatest unintentional prophetic word of all time, Caiaphas declares the gospel in his words of condemnation: ‘You do not realise that it is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish.’
Looking back, John can see clearly what God is up to: Jesus’ death acts as a representative sacrifice for humanity – not just for the Jewish nation, but also for the world (vv51-52). As it turned out, Jesus’ death only maintained the political status quo for another 35-40 years. In the late 60s, a huge rebellion began, which ultimately led to the destruction of ‘the temple and the nation’ (v48).
But Jesus’ death – praise be to God! – saved humanity for all time. And more than that, his death also paved the way for a new humanity, one which is ‘made one’ in Christ (v52).
Today, let’s give thanks that God is at work in all circumstances, however confusing or challenging they may appear. We only see a part of the picture – God sees it all. Perhaps take a moment to reflect on times in the past when God has worked in surprising ways in your life. And pray with confidence to trust in that same Lord for now, and for the future. He is always faithful.
Thursday 15th January – John 11:43-48 ‘If we let him go on like this…’
Light attracts some creatures and repels others. We see this all through nature; and it’s not just the unappealing creatures who prefer the darkness: think of owls or leopards – beautiful animals, however deadly they are!
It’s easy to imagine that Jesus’ miracles must have been universally welcomed. After all, who could possibly be offended by bodies being healed, people being fed, and (here) someone even being raised to life? But, as we know, that isn’t the case. The theologian R.A. Lambourne comments that all of Jesus’ miracles are krisis moments – krisis is the Greek word which means judgement: in other words, people have to make a decision. Are they for Jesus or against him? Will they follow him or reject him?
The raising of Lazarus is a supreme ‘krisis’ moment: not surprisingly, as John records (v45), ‘many of the Jews who had come to visit Mary, and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him.’ Imagine being there, and seeing that…. most of us would do the same!
But not everybody. An act so powerful, so subversive of cultural norms, has other repercussions: (v46) ‘some… went to the Pharisees and told them what Jesus had done.’ This group felt entirely differently, they saw Jesus’ spiritual power as a direct threat to worldly power – not just theirs, but Rome’s: (v48) ‘If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and then the Romans will come and take away both our temple and our nation.’ Revival risked revolution; and revolution risked repression.
Throughout history the freedom and life Jesus brings implicitly challenges other power structures – even if the people so transformed by Christ live as model citizens. You can explain it in all kinds of ways, but in essence it boils down to simple, old-fashioned human pride. To believe in Christ is to humble ourselves, that God might raise us up. Some prefer to hide in the darkness (John 3:19-20); but praise God for all those who come into the light (John 3:21)!
As we reflect on this extraordinary story today, may God give us all grace to respond as that first group did: to put our faith in Jesus, and trust in him for life. And let’s also pray for the many millions of fellow followers round the world who live under oppressive regimes. May they experience that true peace which passes understanding, and may the joy of the Lord be their – and our – strength.
Wednesday 14th January – John 11:40-44 ‘Lazarus, come out!’
Of all Jesus’ miracles, the raising of Lazarus is the most dramatic. The feeding of the 5,000 may have been on a larger scale, the walking on the water more terrifying – but the combination of extraordinary power and sheer pathos we see here gives this miracle a unique position in the gospels. John certainly gives it that kind of billing: he only records seven ‘signs’, and this is the final one; since seven is the biblical number for perfection or completeness, we can conclude that, for John, this is the most perfect, the most complete.
It’s not Jesus’ only raising of somebody else from the dead: we have already marvelled at the widow of Nain’s son (Luke 7) and Jairus’ daughter (Luke 8). But this is the first resurrection miracle where the person Jesus raises is already entombed. The gap between Lazarus’ death and his rising is days, not hours. Even Jesus’ great friend (and Lazarus’ sister) Martha doubted that he could do anything now – when Jesus tells people to move the stone, she questions the wisdom of his actions, and the smell that people will have to endure (v39).
There is, therefore, no doubt as to the extraordinary nature of this miracle. Jesus is not just restoring the breath of life, but reversing decay. That much is clear from the striking description of Lazarus appearing, still fully clothed in bandages (v44). It must have been an unforgettable sight for those privileged to witness it. We’re not told what Martha and Mary thought, but we can only imagine their shock and joy. Nor are we told what Lazarus made of it all – all we know is that he was dining with them all some time later (John 12:2). Life went on!
What makes this such an important ‘sign’ for John is of course that the raising of Lazarus directly prefigures what Jesus will do himself. Jesus was himself entombed, and wrapped in bandages when he rose from the dead. If Jesus can do this for Lazarus, he can do this for himself, too. Or, as Peter puts it on the Day of Pentecost: ‘But God raised him from the dead, freeing him from the agony of death, because it was impossible for death to keep its hold on him.’ (Acts 2:24) Jesus simply has too much life!
We, too, are called into this life. We may still be living, physically, but Jesus’ call to Lazarus in some ways is also his call to us: ‘Come out! Come into the new life I have in store for you! Be alive in me!’
Today, thanks to Jesus, you have resurrection life. Like Lazarus we do all still die – but death is not the end. The tomb is not our final destination. We are made alive in Christ. As we give thanks for that resurrection life today, let’s resolve to live that life to the full, to bring it to others, to share it with the world. In our different ways, we are all Lazaruses.
Tuesday 13th January – John 11:38-40 ‘The glory of God’
‘If you believe, you will see the glory of God.’
It’s quite a promise, isn’t it?
When we talk about glory nowadays, we usually mean some great achievement, or something which merits great praise – this weekend we’ve had talk of FA Cup glory, for example, for the winning teams, especially those who registered shock victories. And that’s all well and good – but it’s missing a vital link. In biblical terms, the word ‘glory’ refers to the manifest presence of God. It literally means ‘weight’ and originally appears whenever God shows up directly in the presence of humanity.
The first biblical references all occur around the time of the Exodus, the giving of the law and the Israelites’ wanderings in the desert. So, when Moses and Aaron first begin their priestly ministry, we’re told that, ‘the glory of the Lord appeared to all the people. Fire came out from the presence of the Lord and consumed the burnt offering and the fat portions on the altar. And when all the people saw it, they shouted for joy and fell face down.’ (Leviticus 9:23-24)
You can see the missing link: when God’s glory appears, it results in praise and awe – but that is the outcome of the glory, not the glory itself. The ‘glory’ is God’s manifest presence with his people.
Let’s fast-forward to the story of Lazarus and our passage for today – and specifically, Jesus’ extraordinary words to those gathered by the tomb: (v40) ‘Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?’ How is God’s glory, God’s manifest presence, demonstrated in the age of Christ? In resurrection life! God is the author of life, and his presence brings life. ‘We have seen his glory,’ John declares at the start of the gospel (1:14), and now his friends and onlookers will see it demonstrated in the most remarkable way: God’s presence, bringing life.
Since Pentecost, one of the greatest parts of our good news is that God’s manifest presence – in other words, his glory – is available to all believers, all those who follow the Messiah who promises the Lord’s glory to those who believe. Wherever the Lord is bringing new life, there we can see his glory. God is working his ‘glory’ in us: ‘We all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.’ (2 Cor 3:18)
We are all slowly being transformed by God’s Spirit – something which, as that wonderful verse declares, brings ‘ever-increasing glory’ to the Lord. Where is God’s glory at work in you at the moment? Where might you see God’s glory bringing life today? Pray with confidence, because those who believe, Jesus promises, will see the glory of God. Amen.
Monday 12th January – John 11:28-37 ‘If you had been here…’
‘If only I’d been there…’ I wonder if you’ve ever found yourself thinking something like that? Sadly, many of us have, usually with a sense of loss at something we missed out on. It can also work the other way round: ‘if only you’d been here,’ someone might say to us – maybe an event we’d have enjoyed, or maybe because we could have contributed something that was needed. A skill, perhaps – either practical or medical.
Sometimes our absence relates to a situation which causes us to feel guilt, because our presence would have made a positive impact. This certainly seems to be the case in our famous story, and Jesus’ encounter with (previously) Martha and then (today) his sister Mary. It is the first thing that both sisters say to Jesus – ‘if you had been here…’ – perhaps in sorrow, but possibly also in accusation. They both love Jesus, but that might make their disappointment and sadness all the more acute. Certainly, those watching this remarkable episode were more accusatory: (v37) ‘Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?’ Where were you, Jesus, when we needed you?
That question is one that many of us face in the trials of life. As we reflected a few days ago, when bad things happen we feel confused, our faith is challenged, we may feel we have hard questions to ask Jesus. And what we observe today (as we did a few days ago) is that Jesus can take our hard questions. He doesn’t get angry or self-justificatory. Indeed, he feels our pain.
The word John uses in v33 which is translated ‘deeply moved’ is far more visceral than that. It literally means ‘his guts wrenched’ – it is a compassion so deep he feels physical pain or nausea. Jesus emphathises that much – not just with Mary and Martha, but with us, too.
The shortest verse in the bible is perhaps also the most profound: (v35) ‘Jesus wept.’ In those two simple words, we see God’s great heart of compassion for humanity – the heart that led him to create us, to provide for us, to come to this broken world to love us and meet with us and befriend us and bless us and save us. We worship a ‘with-us’ God – not just an ‘up-there’ God, one who is too majestic to get his hands dirty, or his cheeks streaked with tears. We worship a God who weeps for his dead friend.
It’s not a philosophical answer to the problem of suffering, but a heart of compassion, an arm round the shoulder, a promise of his presence. And, whilst Mary and Martha experienced Jesus’ physical presence, our good news is that, by His Spirit, we can know Jesus’ constant presence in our hearts, his abiding comfort and compassion.
If you weep today, Jesus weeps with you. If you rejoice, Jesus rejoices. He is with you. Always.
Saturday 10th January – Matthew 2:1-12 ‘They presented him with gifts’
One last reflection before we put our biblical crib scene away this year! Few characters in the bible grab people’s attention like the Magi. Who were they? Where did they live? What exactly was the star? And those gifts…?
Let’s start by reflecting that the Magi’s gifts of gold, incense and myrrh were all things they used in their magic, so they would have been natural things for the Magi to bring. Although that makes them even more remarkable, when you think about it… As this new year begins, what do they mean for us?
Let’s start with GOLD. There are, of course, lots of ways we can show Jesus is king in our lives – worship is all about that, isn’t it? The word is an abbreviation of ‘worth-ship’ – this person is worthy of honour. Our whole lives are worship. But gold is still a fundamental part of that. What we spend our money on tells us what or who we worship. C.S. Lewis once said: ‘a bank statement is a theological document, it tells us what and who we worship.’ Christmas is always a challenge, financially – but as we look forward to 2026, we still have to ask ourselves the question: will we honour Jesus with our gold this year?
Second, MYRRH – which reminds us that Jesus had a special destiny. Myrrh is the most striking point at which the Easter story intrudes, if you like, into the Christmas story. The 12 days of Christmas might be ending but we are always Easter people. And myrrh reminds us to keep the cross at the centre of our lives. As the evangelist J John is fond of saying: never forget that the main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing. This year, will you keep the main thing the main thing? Will the good news of Jesus’ death and resurrection inspire you daily to worship with your lips and your lives?
Finally, FRANKINCENSE – which reminds us that Jesus was an offering to God. Incense was used in the temple for sacrifices and also when prayers were offered. We all know that there is nothing more important than prayer, but we also all know that prayer is the hardest thing. Who finds it easy to pray? Let’s admit that we all find it tough – but it’s good, at the start of the year, to look at ourselves and think: how are we going to grow in prayer this year?
Here’s lots of ideas – see if one jumps out at you: maybe you need a better time. Maybe you need a better place – not necessarily a single location: if you pray better when you walk, go walking. Maybe you need a new method – there are lots of resources available: Lectio 365, Pray as you go, Daily Prayer to name just three – all of them free on the internet. Or maybe you need to meet to pray with people more often. Group prayer is exponentially more effective than individual prayer – if three people pray together it’s not just 3, it’s 3×3 – try it and see….
Three invitations for us, as we begin this year. The Magi teach us ultimately that true worship is active, and costly – but the reward is priceless. May we, too, experience their joy as we offer our lives and our gifts to Jesus this year. Amen.
Friday 9th January – Matthew 2:9-12 ‘They were overjoyed’
I wonder what emotions you associate with the Magi? Most likely the first things that come to mind are curiosity, wonder, maybe courage? We might also think about fear – fear of Herod, of the danger they might be putting themselves (and Jesus) into.
One detail we often overlook is that one of the primary emotions the Magi experienced was joy. And no wonder! They had travelled on a great journey to get to Bethlehem – probably lasting several weeks, with the heat of the day and the cold of the night, with the danger of bandits and uncertainty of the outcome. I don’t know about you, but I find myself greatly relieved on a journey of a few hours with Google Maps to guide me – imagine their emotions when they finally reach Bethlehem, and find the infant Jesus, the one they’ve given up so much to find. Pure joy!
If the Magi teach us anything, it is that seeking Jesus generates joy. And this might be hard to hear at present, not many of us would claim to be feeling much joy in these anxious times. But this is what the Magi experienced in their journey: v10 ‘when they saw the star [stopping over Bethlehem], they were overjoyed.’ As we reflected in Advent, joy is not necessarily about happiness, but about the sense of being part of something greater than we are, where God’s purposes are being fulfilled and his kingdom is being built.
We find joy in serving Jesus, and others: this could be in practical help, or prayer, or encouragement. Like the Magi we need to keep our eyes peeled: where is your star stopping? What are you being pointed towards? If you find that place, you may find unexpected joy this year. Who knows, you may even find it today!
Thursday 8th January – Matthew 2:1-8 ‘We have come to worship’
I love the wise men. They’re probably my favourite nativity characters (apart from Jesus, obviously). Why? It’s not just the sense of the exotic or their strange gifts, though that helps: the wise men remind us that the good news of Jesus’ coming into the world is for everyone – God meets all of us where we are, and leads the most unlikely people to worship him. And that includes people like you, or me.
We have to admit, though, that in some ways, they’re more like the Three Stooges than the Three Wise Men! Read the story with fresh eyes and you’ll notice: they go to the wrong place – they arrive in Jerusalem and have to be directed by others to Bethlehem. They speak to the wrong person – the one person who they really shouldn’t talk with about a new king is the terrifying old tyrant Herod – a man so gripped by a lust to cling on to power that he has already murdered most of his own family, his wife and some of her family as well, because he thought they were plotting against him. And when they give gifts, it’s gold, frankincense and myrrh, which – yes, have added meaning – but also were elements used in their magic.
And yet, by a mysterious combination of God’s loving grace and their faithful seeking, they are there – as heralds of the gospel, a gospel which, in the birth of the Messiah, Jesus the Christ, the fulfilment of all God’s promises, breaks the banks of the old river and floods the grace of God into the whole world.
As we reflect on their remarkable story over the next three days, today let’s notice one simple, but profound, thing – they came to worship: ‘we saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him’ (v2). It might sound obvious, but in that one tiny detail we get a gentle reminder of one the most important truths of all. Jesus is many things to us, but our first calling when it comes to our relationship with Jesus is to worship him.
A wise old mentor once said to me: ‘Make sure to seek the Lord’s face before you seek his hand.’ In other words, it’s natural to want to ask Jesus for things. When we pray, we have lots of things we need help with – help for ourselves, help for others: we need Jesus’ hand of help. But first, we need to be close to Jesus, we need to gaze on his face, we need to worship him. Jesus is not just there for our shopping list of needs.
The wise men had, ironically, the great advantage of not realising they needed Jesus’ help with anything. They simply came first and foremost to worship him. That’s what led them at least 700 miles across the desert – or more likely, round the top of it – to see him, to spend time with him. And it’s the same for us: will we, today, this year, make that our priority too? To seek the Lord’s face first, and then to seek his hand?
Wednesday 7th January – John 11:17-27 ‘The resurrection and the life’
Whenever I read today’s passage, I have this sense of walking on holy ground. It’s such a well-known encounter – Jesus and his friend Martha, a shared grief, a conversation about life and death – and yet always somehow ‘other’: holy, mysterious, awesome. A passage to make you take off your shoes and kneel in wonder.
At the heart is this extraordinary statement: (vv25-26) ‘I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die.’ It’s the fifth of Jesus’ ‘I am’ statements – you can probably remember some of the others, maybe not the order! Thus far, we’ve had: I am… the bread of life (ch6), the light of the world (ch8), the gate for the sheep (ch10), the good shepherd (ch10 again). Each one reveals a facet of Jesus’ divinity – the One who nourishes us for ever; the One whose light draws us and guides us; the One who protects us; the One who pastors us – and now the One who brings us life.
There are two Greek words for ‘life’: bios and zoe. The first – bios – just means physical existence. The second – zoe – means real life, spiritual life, the things that make life worth living. This is the word for life that Jesus uses here. This is the life to which he calls us – what he described in the previous chapter as ‘abundant life’ (10:10).
It’s a life we can know now, before we die. But this passage also reminds us that this hope extends beyond death (v26). You could say that on this earth, we have both kinds of life (bios and zoe), but in eternity there will be only one kind of life – zoe – the life Jesus talks about here: abundant and eternal.
It’s quite a thought. And, for all the joy of Lazarus’ physical resurrection in the next part of the story, it’s a thought we need to hold onto. Our hope goes beyond the grave, into eternity. This hope, Jesus declares, comes through believing in him (or ‘on’ him, a translation I like, because it carries that sense of dependence and trust). It is freely given, available to all who will receive it at any point, and lasts forever. Wow!
Jesus had this conversation with one individual – but, as so often with Jesus, what he shared with her is for all of us. As we stand on this holy ground today, let’s give thanks for this promise of life, for the hope, the peace, the joy and the purpose it brings. And may our response be simply that of Martha’s – whether for the first, or thousandth, time: ‘Yes, Lord, I believe!’
Tuesday 6th January – John 11:5-16 ‘This world’s light’
In any survey of the greatest barriers to faith, the question of suffering always comes at the top of the list. Ahead of science, of biblical reliability, of judgement, of doubt – all the other thorny issues which cause people to wonder. And the reason for this is ultimately personal: when people struggle with suffering, it’s not an abstract question. ‘Why does God allow suffering?’ nearly always means, ‘Why did God allow me/my family member/my friend to suffer?’ Life throws up questions we can’t answer; questions we want to address to God.
This famous story of Lazarus is a perfect example of this. Many of us love this story, we treasure it, and it contains one of the greatest promises in all scripture (‘I am the resurrection and the life’ – more on that tomorrow); but in our eagerness to celebrate what Jesus ultimately does, we have to face the difficult questions, too. In yesterday’s and today’s passages, there are at least four confusing things to navigate, the first of which we noted yesterday in v4: ‘this illness will not end in death.’
Then v6: Jesus loves Lazarus and his sisters but chooses to delay his visit. Even worse, he says in v15: ‘I am glad I was not there.’ At the time Jesus said this, who on earth could have interpreted that in a pastorally positive way? Finally, in then apparently changing his mind and deciding to go, Jesus is potentially putting his life, and his disciples’ lives, in danger: (v8) ‘a short while ago the Jews there tried to stone you and yet you are going back?’
None of it makes any sense – at least not in the moment these things happened. Is this not our experience, too? And when it is, how do we face it?
There’s no perfect answer to that question, but this passage does give us two vital clues, two great comforts: the first is that only the Lord knows the end of every story. We know the beginning, maybe the middle – but the Lord knows the end. God acts for his glory, and that of his Son (v4), and he orchestrates our lives ‘that you may believe’ (v15). So often we can look back and see the hand of God at work, in ways we couldn’t appreciate at the time. Not always as dramatic as in the case of Lazarus, but definite threads of grace and blessing, even in seasons of suffering and trial.
The second is that we have a Light to guide us. Jesus draws a contrast between walking in ‘this world’s light’ and stumbling in the darkness (vv9-10) – but he’s not just talking about sunlight. He is the true Light of the world, and this light is available to all his followers, even if we can only see a few steps ahead at certain points in time.
Ultimately, seasons of trial and suffering call us to trust – in God’s purposes, in His goodness, in his Light. For some of us reading today, we find ourselves in such a place. I invite all of us to pray for those facing such times. And if that’s you, our passage ends with a beautiful invitation: Jesus turns to his friends and invites them to go with him. Jesus is calling you to trust, to go with him: will you go?
Monday 5th January – John 11:1-5 ‘The one Jesus loves’
I wonder what you feel about T-shirts with messages? It’s very much a ‘marmite’ thing: some people love them, others loathe them. I’m old enough to remember the phase many years ago when it was common to get back to school after the summer holidays and see a number of people walking around with following emblazoned on their front: ‘My friend went to [insert holiday destination] and all (s)he brought me back was this lousy T-shirt.’ Thankfully I never had the pleasure, though I’ve often been partial to wearing certain brand names (purely for market research purposes), and do own football shirts, which rarely avoid advertising something.
How about this one, though: a few years ago, I listened to a church leader describing the T-shirt he really wanted to own – it said, ‘Jesus loves you’ on the front; and on the back it said – ‘…but I’m his favourite!’
If you were in church with me yesterday, you’ll have heard me reference this; I’ve no idea if he ever got hold of this garment – but it does beg a very important question: who does Jesus really love?
Today’s passage gives us a clue. We begin a very famous chapter, one of the most celebrated in the whole of scripture, with one of the most iconic stories: the raising of Lazarus from the dead. Lazarus, we are told right at the start (v3) is ‘the one you love.’
But not just Lazarus: two verses later, we learn that ‘Jesus loved Martha and her sister…’ (v5). This, of course, is being written by John, who describes himself regularly as ‘the disciple Jesus loved’.
It turns out this Jesus loves everyone. And not just ‘everyone’, as in one big lump of people. But individuals. Lazarus. Martha. Mary. John. You.
You are the disciple Jesus loves.
If you’ve never really taken a moment to think of it like that – take that moment now. Embrace it. Soak in it. Jesus loves, not just all people, but you – with all your flaws, faults, foibles and failings.
This really matters, for so many reasons, not least of which is that life is hard to fathom. Things happen we don’t or can’t understand. We’ll look at this in more detail tomorrow, but we get a glimpse of it here (v4): ‘This illness will not end in death,’ Jesus declares to his disciples – and immediately we’re thinking (if we know the story): but it does. Lazarus does die. What does Jesus mean? I don’t understand!
And that’s the point, isn’t it? There is so much we don’t understand. But this we do: Jesus loves us. Each one of us. You are the disciple Jesus loves. We can trust all things into his great love. Let’s do that today, and every day.
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