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 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.
Note: Our back catalogue is still available here. There are series from all across the bible, and you can either view the PDF files online or download at your leisure.