“The Hour Has Come”

And I invite you to turn to the twenty-second chapter of the Gospel of Luke and to follow along as I read from verse 39. Luke’s Gospel, chapter 22 and beginning the reading at the thirty-ninth verse:

“And [Jesus] came out and went, as was his custom, to the Mount of Olives, and the disciples followed him. And when he came to the place, he said to them, ‘Pray that you may not enter into temptation.’ And he withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, and knelt down and prayed, saying, ‘Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.’ And there appeared to him an angel from heaven, strengthening him. And being in agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling … to the ground. And when he rose from prayer, he came to the disciples and found them sleeping for sorrow, and he said to them, ‘Why are you sleeping? Rise and pray that you may not enter into temptation.’

“While he was still speaking, there came a crowd, and the man called Judas, one of the twelve, was leading them. He drew near to Jesus to kiss him, but Jesus said to him, ‘Judas, would you betray the Son of Man with a kiss?’ And when those who were around him saw what would follow, they said, ‘Lord, shall we strike with the sword?’ And one of them struck the servant of the high priest and cut off his right ear. But Jesus said, ‘No more of this!’ And he touched his ear and healed him. Then Jesus said to the chief priests and officers of the temple and elders, who had come out against him, ‘Have you come out as against a robber, with swords and clubs? When I was with you day after day in the temple, you did not lay hands on me. But this is your hour, and the power of darkness.’”

Amen. We thank God for his Word.

Pause with me as I pray:

Father, as we turn to the Bible, we long that your Word will be the lamp to our feet and the light to our path.[1] We come out of a week that has buffeted us one way or another—things that we don’t even understand, I don’t understand, and yet the preoccupation is somehow or another as if we are the masters of our own destiny. Lord, we know that you love us, care for us in Jesus. And so we pray that his kingly rule may be established afresh in our hearts even today and that we might walk in obedience to his Word even as we turn to it now. And we ask it in Jesus’ name. Amen.

All right. Luke chapter 22. I had thought that I would stay in John’s Gospel with the questions leading up to Easter, but I’ve decided that the benefit of being able to refer to the Synoptics as well—to Matthew, Mark, and Luke—is, I think, helpful to me and, I hope, will be helpful to all of us.

Many of us, I know, are avid readers. I know that because you tell me. And many of you like to read, as I do, biographies and also, depending on the kind of newspapers you read, obituaries too. And what we discover when we read biography and obituary is not a surprise to us. It simply gives to us the vast amount of print in relationship to the life that the person has lived—where they were born, if they got married, where they were educated, and so on. And then, finally, as it draws to a close, there will be a page or two or a paragraph or two simply announcing the fact of the person’s death. Even if the death is an exceptional death—for example, the death of President Kennedy—more time may be given to that, but it will pale in comparison to the vastness of preoccupation, understandably, with the life that has been lived.

I begin here because when we turn to the Bible, when we turn to the Gospels—Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John—we discover that the Gospel writers give a disproportionate amount of time and space to record the record not only of the last few days of Jesus’ life but the last few hours of Jesus’ life. Matthew, Mark, and Luke give between a third and a quarter of their material to these final days. The Gospel of John spends virtually 50 percent of his Gospel on the final days of Jesus’ life.

Now, we recognize that the Gospel records are historical, but the writers are not providing us with history. They are biographical, but they’re not actually providing us with a biography of Jesus. What are the Gospel writers doing? They’re writing Gospels. They’re writing good news. They’re writing, all of them, in the same vein as John gives testimony to when, towards the end of his Gospel, in chapter 20, he says that these Gospels are here, written in order that men and women might believe that Jesus is the Christ—not simply know that there was a Jesus, not simply know that these events are historical, but that they might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing they will have life in his name.[2]

When we follow the line all the way through the Gospels, we realize that the focus of Jesus was not actually on the living of his life; it was on the giving of his life.

So, along with the rest of the Bible, it is there in order that God’s Word might speak into God’s world. And when we give even a cursory glance at things, we realize that this message of good news is there from start to finish. Christmastime: “Unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign [to] you,”[3] and so on. And so immediately there is established that that which the Old Testament was anticipating has now been fulfilled in Jesus.

You fast-forward, and we discover the record—a brief record, but it is there—of Jesus as a twelve-year-old boy. And in that encounter, which takes place in the temple, first with the religious leaders and then with Mary and with Joseph, what becomes perfectly clear is that Jesus knew that his Father had sent him into the world for a purpose.[4] And when we follow the line all the way through the Gospels, we realize that the focus of Jesus was not actually on the living of his life; it was on the giving of his life.

And it is because the Gospel writers are alert to this that the story unfolds as it does—that the hour for which he came was the hour when he left. It’s paradoxical. And all the way through John’s Gospel… We saw it in John chapter 17, at the beginning of John chapter 17: that “the hour has come,”[5] Jesus says. All the way through John it comes again and again: The hour had come for him to depart out of the world.[6] “For this purpose,” Jesus says, “I have come to this hour.”[7]

So, what we need to realize immediately is that God is sovereignly in control of the unfolding story of redemption as it is focused in Jesus—all of that by way of background to say that when we concluded John 17, we went in the evening to the eleventh verse of the eighteenth chapter of John to consider what I said was an Easter question. And that question posed by Jesus was, to his disciples, “Shall I not drink the cup that the Father has given me [to drink]?” Remember: He’s twelve years old, and he says, “I must be about my Father’s business,”[8] or “I must be in my Father’s house.”[9] Here he is now, at the age of thirty-three, and he’s saying, “Don’t you realize that I must drink the cup that I’ve been given?” That was question number one.

I said we would come to other Easter questions, and here we are now. In the passage that I’ve just read there are three of them, and I wonder if you picked them out. And even if you didn’t, that’s okay, because I’m going to point them out.

The context, you will see there if you have a Bible open, is that Jesus has been engaging with his Father in prayer. The disciples, who he thought might be engaging in prayer, were actually engaging in sleep, and he has come back to them. He’s found that they’re sleeping because they’re so bereft; they’re sorrowful. He says to them, “Why [would] you [be] sleeping? Rise and pray that you may not enter into temptation.” And then Luke tells us—verse 47—it was “while he was still speaking” that “there came a crowd, and the man called Judas, one of the twelve, was leading them.” So Jesus is speaking to his disciples, and all of a sudden, into the garden this crowd appears. And leading the charge is Judas, whom we already know.

In the dim light of evening, in the context of a garden that wouldn’t be manifestly lit, Judas is now giving the predetermined signal for the arrest of Jesus. This, again, is where it’s important that you read Matthew, Mark, and Luke in conjunction with this, because as you listen to me, you’ll be saying, “I don’t know where he got that from.” Well, I’m not telling you where I got it from so that you will go and look where I got it from so that you will read your Bible. It’s very straightforward. It’s a teaching methodology.

A Question About Treachery

So, you will find there that Judas had said to these fellows, “I will identify him for you, because you won’t see him in the dark. I will identify him for you, and I will just give him a kiss.”[10] That then raises question number one, which is a question by Jesus for Judas. There it is: “Judas, would you betray the Son of Man with a kiss?”

For three years, Judas had been part of the circle of intimacy with Christ. For three years, he had been present when the miracles took place, when Jesus gave his teaching. In the constant companionship of these relationships, he was regarded by his fellows with such distinction that they put him in charge of the finances.[11] They set him apart as the CFO of the disciple band. That was the role that was given to him. But despite all of these outward appearances, we know that Judas was not one of them. He wasn’t one of them. He looked like one of them. He listened to what others listened to. He did what others did. But he wasn’t one of them. And here, in this dramatic moment, that, in a way that was never clear before, becomes apparent to all who are assembled, and it is clear to us.

Proverbs says that “deceit is in the heart of those who devise evil.”[12] “Those who devise evil”: those who come up with a plan such as this plan to bring about the destruction of Jesus. We may know when that person approaches to say, “Hey, I’ve got an idea,” that that idea, that evil concept, emerges from a deceitful heart.

There was a journey that this fellow was on. How he got himself from being the treasurer to being the traitor is beyond our ability to conceive. He’s clearly a master of disguise. When Jesus announces to the company at the Last Supper, “One of you will betray me,”[13] you don’t read there, “And they all said, ‘Oh yeah! That’s Judas!’” No. They responded with uncertainty, one of the Gospel writers says.[14] And one of the others says, “And one after another they said to Jesus, ‘Is it I?’”[15] So there’s no sense in which somehow or another, he was already a target for their insinuations. No, not for a moment!

Judas here has clearly reached the point of no return. He knows who he is. He knows what he is. But apparently, he would rather see Jesus destroyed than face up to his own sinful heart. He decided that it was a better option than confessing his sin.

Now, there is a chilling warning in this encounter: We can know truth, we can teach truth, yet we can be rotten at heart. At heart. Now, if you doubt the Bible, just listen to John Lennon from 1971:

You can shine your shoes and wear a suit.
You can comb your hair and look quite cute.
You can hide your face behind a smile.
[But] one thing you can’t hide
Is when you’re crippled inside.[16]

And Judas, despite all external appearances, was spiritually crippled. He was part of the walking dead in the intimate company of Jesus. Clearly, he had never decided to pray along with the psalmist the prayer at the end of Psalm 139: “Search me, O God, and know my heart: … And see if there be any wicked way in me, and [then] lead me in the way everlasting.”[17] Because, you see, that is the way to deal with our sinful selves: to come clean before God and say, “You know everything about me. You can scan me. You do scan me. Search me.” But you don’t want to say that if you’re deceiving your friends and if you’re deceiving yourself. But the one person we can’t deceive is God.

Now, you say, “Well, this is very telling. How about Jesus in relationship to this? Was Jesus somehow or another caught off guard in the way that the disciples were?” Not for a moment! John chapter 6, Jesus says, “The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life. But there are some of you who do not believe.”[18] Anyone who teaches the Bible is confronted by this. You teach the Bible, you urge upon people the claims of Jesus, you call for them to turn to Jesus in repentance and in faith, and you do it Sunday after Sunday after Sunday, and you say, “This Word here is spirit and life, but there are some of you who do not believe.” Well, to every pastor: Take encouragement! Because this is the experience of Jesus himself. They heard the truth from Jesus’ own lips. They looked in Jesus’ own eyes. “Some of you … do not believe.” “For,” says John, “Jesus knew from the beginning who [these] were who did not believe, and who it was who would betray him.”

That’s question number one: treachery.

A Question Revealing Incapacity

Question number two, which you will see there, is a question from the disciples to Jesus which is not an indication of treachery, but it is a classic indication of their complete incapacity to have a grasp of what is taking place. Matthew tells us that in this little encounter, Jesus says to Judas, “Friend, do what you came to do.”[19] Jesus understands exactly what’s going on, in contrast to his disciples. So they seize him, and “when those who were around him saw what would follow”—“We can see where this is going,” they say to one another—“they said, ‘[We’ve got a question for you:] Lord, shall we strike with the sword?’”

Now, we’re not going to deviate from course on this, but if you just Google “sword” or go to your concordance on “sword,” you can spend a great afternoon thinking about swords and whether they wanted swords or were taking swords and so on. But before Jesus has the opportunity to answer that question and before the group are able to reach a consensus in relationship to that question, one of them decides to take matters into his own hands. “Lord, shall we strike with the sword?” Don’t wait for the answer. Go!

Now, we know that it is Peter. His name doesn’t appear here. And we know that he lopped off the right ear. It’s interesting, Luke, being a doctor—take care of detail. I mean, that’s why when you have surgery, they always say, “Which leg is it we’re amputating?” so that they can use the magic marker on it. And so the doctor here, he recognizes it’s not just an ear; it’s the right ear. And either this guy Peter was particularly good with a sword, or he was absolutely useless with a sword—that he wanted to hit him right in the center of his cranium, and he missed it, and he lopped his ear off. But there you have it. And that is the situation. What an absolute shambles!

The disciples really don’t come out very well in the Bible at all, do they? How desperately they and we all need the power of the Holy Spirit and the direction of God’s Word! R. T. France says what we have in this incident is “a desultory attempt at armed resistance”:[20] “We’ll take care of it. Let’s take care of it right now.”

Now, what has happened here is just that the disciples have not really been paying attention. They have not grasped what Jesus has been saying for a long time now. Ever since Peter had made the great declaration “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God”[21] and the approbation that came along with that, and then when he had immediately followed that up by saying—when Jesus had said, “I’m going up to Jerusalem to suffer at the hands of cruel men and be crucified and rise on the third day,” and he immediately steps up and says, “Oh no, I’ll tell you right now: You’re not going to be doing that!”[22] Okay? So this is this same person. “Shall we strike with the sword?” “Yeah, let’s just strike with the sword.” They didn’t get it.

And I’m not sure that everybody that’s a follower of Jesus today truly understands what it means that Jesus is the King—that he is the King. If we really believe that Jesus is the King, if we believe that he is the ascended Lord, if we believe that he is sovereign over the affairs of time, why in the world do you find Christians spending so much time agonizing over the minutiae of events in life? Well, the answer is because we’re just Christians, because we’re just feeble souls, because that’s who we are—and perhaps because we, with the disciples, have not understood what Jesus said in his encounter with Pilate, when Pilate asks him, “Are you a king? Are you the King of the Jews?” And Jesus says, “Well, you’ve said so.”[23] And then he explains: “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, [so] that I [wouldn’t] be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from [this] world.”[24]

You see, Jesus is sovereign over these affairs. In the Synoptics, we’re told that in this encounter, Jesus says, “You want a sword? Listen here: Don’t you know that I can call my Father, who will dispatch twelve legions of angels?”[25] Who says stuff like that? The King does! The incarnate God does! This is not some revolutionary that’s stirring up strife, as liberal scholarship wants to suggest. This is Jesus. No! It’s amazing. “Don’t you know that I can appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels?” How many soldiers were in a Roman legion? Six thousand. That’s correct. Therefore, twelve times six—I’m good at this—is seventy-two thousand! And he said, “We can, in a moment here, have seventy-two thousand plus angels taking care of this whole situation. So you want me to tell you you should get your sword out?”

This is a comedy of errors. That’s what it is. I mean, let’s be reverent with the Scriptures. But, I mean, if you try and imagine this: the poor guy’s ear, and Peter, and—oh, it’s terrible! I mean, it is.

And Jesus takes Malchus’s ear, and he puts it back for him! “I just chopped that off!” said Peter. “What are you sticking it back on for?”

“You shouldn’t have chopped it off in the first place, Peter. For goodness’ sake! Have you never listened to anything that I’ve told you about what it means for me to be going up to Jerusalem and to die? Are you trying to interfere at every point along the way with the sovereign purpose of my Father in order that I might be the Savior for sinners?” The answer is yes, that’s actually what he’s doing—unwittingly, perhaps, but it is what he’s doing. “Put your sword away, Peter! I meant for you to cut it out, not cut it off.”

But in fairness, we are very quickly like that, aren’t we? Quick as a church—I don’t mean this church but big C—quick to think that we can respond to the challenges that we face with weapons that are the normal weapons of warfare, when in actual fact, “the weapons of our warfare”—as Paul says in 2 Corinthians 10—“the weapons of our warfare” are not the weapons of the world; on the contrary, they “have divine power to [bring down] strongholds.”[26] It is only when a church, when the church, actually believes that that it will be able to steer and navigate its course through a world that is opposed to the gospel and to Jesus.

Otherwise, out of frustration, we may try it on our own. We may try and politicize it. We may try actually to physically engage in it—whatever it might be. And Jesus is warning against that. Every generation of the church needs to learn with the prophet Zerubbabel, who, you will remember, was confronted by what he regarded as an insurmountable obstacle. And the angel of the Lord brings the word of the Lord to the prophet Zerubbabel to say this: “It’s not by might, it’s not by power, but it’s by my Spirit, says the Lord.”[27] The disciples were going to learn that in a remarkable way as the story continues. But for now, they’re essentially clueless.

William Booth of the Salvation Army was asked at the end of the nineteenth century what he thought was the prospect for the church, big C, going into the twentieth century. And this is what he said: “In answering your inquiry, I consider that the chief dangers which confront the coming century will be religion without the Holy Spirit, Christianity without Christ, forgiveness without repentance, salvation without regeneration, politics without God, and heaven without hell”—in other words, a functioning church functioning on everything save the enabling power of God the Holy Spirit.

There’s a lesson in the first question in the treachery. There’s a lesson, surely, in the second question that confronts our incapacity to really do anything of value for the kingdom when we seek to try it on our own. And the third question—which is the final question—is a help to us as well, as we’ll see.

Incidentally: How wonderful that Jesus healed Malchus! I often wonder if he… I wonder… He must have gone home and told his wife, “Man, you can’t believe what happened out there! That’s unbelievable.”

She says, “Well, what happened?”

Said, “Well, no, nothing much. I mean, a guy chopped my ear off.”

“Well, he didn’t chop your ear off. Your ear is there.”

“No, no, no, no, no. The fellow that we were going to arrest, he put my ear back on.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“Yes, I do, honey. It happened to me. That Jesus—apparently, he is the one who can put lives back together again. If he put my ear back, there’s no saying what he might possibly do!”

A Question for Jesus’ Opponents

“Then Jesus said to the chief priests and officers of the temple and elders, who had come out against him”—this is a question by Jesus for the religious opponents—“‘Have you come out as against a robber, with swords and clubs?’” Well, the answer is they have.

What is the basis of the serenity of Christ? It is that he understands that what he’s doing and where he’s going is according to the Father’s will.

Now, the tone in which that question was given we don’t know, because we only have it written down. I wonder if it wasn’t simply Jesus says, “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’ve really come out here tonight, all set up like this, with all your swords and your clubs and everything, to take me under the cover of darkness? Why did you not come for me when I was out in the temple? I was preaching freely. Everybody could see me and so on. How futile it is!”

What were these people thinking? Were they afraid of Jesus, so they came in numbers? Did they think that if they came in numbers, they could intimidate Jesus? Well, clearly, if they thought that, they discovered very quickly that they couldn’t. Because even in the moment, even in this moment, when he would be regarded from a distance as both the victim and the captive, it is clear that he is neither the victim nor the captive—that there is a serenity about Jesus. There is an absolute calmness and peace in the circumstances, a peace that is not enjoyed by Peter and the rest of them. We know that. We’ve seen that.

And what is the basis of the serenity of Christ? It is that he understands that what he’s doing and where he’s going is according to the Father’s will—all that has taken place that the Scriptures of the prophets have said might be fulfilled. Jesus knew that he was going to die. You say, “Well, everybody knows they’re going to die.” No, he knew that he was going to die in a way that no one else knows they’re going to die. Because Jesus knew that absence from his presence in the world was the reason that he had entered into the world. Jesus knew that he would die a violent death. Jesus knew that he would die a purposeful death. Jesus knew that he would die a vicarious death—i.e., that his death was not a display of love that people should admire and say, “Whoa, that’s a dreadful thing to happen to such a nice person.” No! His death on the cross was in place of sinners. He dies purposefully.

And the reason that he is so clear on this becomes apparent as you go and rehearse the Gospels—for example, when he does that sermon from Isaiah 61 in Luke chapter 4, when he goes back to his synagogue in Nazareth. And he does that, and the people are first intrigued, and then they’re really mad. And then Luke tells us that they took him, and they took him out to the brow of the hill, and they were going to throw him off a cliff. But they didn’t do it. In fact, Luke says, “But passing through their midst, he went away.”[28] What, they were powerless? Yes. Why? Because it wasn’t his hour. The same thing after the Feast of Booths—John chapter 7: “No one laid a hand on him, because his hour had not yet come.”[29]

Now, I’m not going to drag you all the way through this, but I want you to go back to your Bible and just see if what I’m telling you is actually there. For example, here in Luke chapter 22, in the midst of another section, you have such clarity on this. Jesus says, “I tell you … this Scripture must be fulfilled in me.”[30] “There’s no doubt about this,” he says. Now, what is the Scripture to which he refers? Well, if you look at the text, it says, “And he was numbered with the transgressors.”[31] That’s the Scripture to which he’s referring. Which is from where? It’s from Isaiah 53:12: “[He] was numbered with the transgressors.” Jesus says, “This Scripture must be fulfilled.” Do you see what he’s saying? “I am the person referred to in Isaiah chapter 53.”

Now, some of you are here, and you’re skeptics about all of this, perhaps. I would be surprised if there aren’t some. Let me just ask you a question in passing. Let’s say you were putting together a Gospel record so that you could try and impress people with what was happening. Would you include in it this crazy comedy of errors? Would you write into your script that the one who is the traitor is a card-carrying member of the disciples’ band? No, you wouldn’t. It’s here with all the warts and all. You can scrutinize it. You can shake it. You can analyze it. And God, you will be surprised, speaks through his Word.

You see, Jesus moves to his death in the awareness of the fact that it was written in the Scriptures. Your death isn’t written in the Scriptures. The fact that we will die is written in the Scriptures, but the details of your death is not there. It can’t be there. Jesus actually believed the Old Testament. There’s a thought, isn’t it? That God believed the Old Testament. He believed that the Old Testament was the revelation of the will of the Father. And as he understood the will of the Father unfold, he was committed to the Father’s will. We read that earlier: “Nevertheless, not my will but yours be done.” He’s committed to the Father’s will, and he’s committed to the Father’s work. “No one,” he says, “takes my life from me. I have the power to lay it down. I have the power to take it up again.”[32] All that unfolds as we come closer towards Easter—everything of Calvary—is unintelligible apart from being viewed as Jesus giving his life “a ransom for many.”[33] “A ransom for many.”

Who are the “many”? Well, we discovered them, didn’t we, in our “Truly, truly” studies? And we came back to it again in John 17: “the people you have given me out of the world.”[34] Who are these people that the Father has given to Jesus in the world? Who are these people? They are the people who believe. They are the people who, when they hear the invitation of the gospel, “Come to me,”[35] they come. They say to themselves, “I did it,” but in retrospect they said, “I didn’t really do anything at all. I heard the voice of Jesus say, ‘Come to me.’ And his voice transformed my circumstances.” Jesus says, “I am the good shepherd. I know my sheep, and my sheep know me.”[36]

“Jesus Loves Even Me”

Here’s my final thought—and it struck me forcibly as I was ending things yesterday: the awareness of the fact that God does not save us in a kind of package deal—that we’re not all swept into redemption en masse. Incidentally, nor does he deal with our sins en masse. He comes to us as individuals. He made us. He knows us. He calls us out. And in that reality, we are amazed by his goodness.

Think of what it is that the apostle Paul says. In all of his vast theology, he can’t get past this: “The Son of God … loved me and gave himself for me.”[37] Yeah, he loved the world, but he doesn’t love the world in the way that he loves those who are his own. “The Son of God … loved me and gave himself for me.”

My sin—oh, the bliss of [that] glorious thought!—
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross.[38]

I don’t really need to know about your sin. I’ve got a problem with my own sin! I don’t need to know that he took care of sin generically. I need to know that he takes care of mine! And he does, particularly, “at just the right time,”[39] and savingly.

God comes to us as individuals. He made us. He knows us. He calls us out. And in that reality, we are amazed by his goodness.

Well, I said to myself, “This has got to be a song that I can remember.” And, of course, it is a song that I can remember, because I’ve got a disease about remembering songs. But as I fell asleep last night—as I prepared to fall asleep last night—I was listening to this from my childhood. You may know this song; I think it came out of America:

I am so glad that [my] Father in heaven
Tells of his love in the book he has given.
Wonderful things in the Bible I see;
[And] this is the dearest: that Jesus loves me.

I am so glad that Jesus loves me,
Jesus loves me, Jesus loves me.
I am so glad that Jesus loves me,
Jesus loves even me.

Now, that might be something that your spouse finds remarkable as well! I mean, once you get together and say, “Yeah, yeah, but what about… No, we’ll stick with it.”

Though I forget him and wander away
Still he [does] love me wherever I stray;
Back to his dear loving arms will I flee

when I’ve made a hash of things, “when I remember” what? “That Jesus loves me.”[40]

Do you think the Prodigal went back up the road just because he was aware of what a mess he’d made of his life? He was aware of that. He said, “I’m going to go back and say, ‘I’ve sinned against heaven and in your sight. I’m no longer worthy to be called your son.’”[41] But what took him back up the road? It was the awareness of the love of the father, who was waiting for him, watching for him, and bringing him back to himself.

Do you know—have you forgotten—that Jesus loves you as you, particularly, savingly, purposefully? That when he says, “I must be about my Father’s business,” included in the business manual was your name, your face, your life? It’s not just true for Zaccheus up the tree. It’s not just true for the lady at the well. It’s not just true for Levi in the party at his house. It’s true for every child. “I am the good shepherd, and I know them, and they know me.” If you do not understand what I’m saying, if you do not trust Jesus, then I urge you today to turn from yourself and turn to him in childlike trust and discover the truth of the love that he has for you.

Today, beyond the voice of a mere man, if you hear the voice of Jesus, tender, gracious, insistent, saying to you, “Come on, come to me,” don’t turn away. Don’t harden your heart. You just make it harder and harder when you hear the call of Jesus and turn your back.

May the love of the Lord Jesus draw us to himself. May, living in him, his joy become our joy, and may his peace guard and keep our hearts and minds as we go out into our weary world for another week. And may grace and mercy and peace from Father, Son, and Holy Spirit rest upon each one who believes, now and forevermore. Amen.

[1] See Psalm 119:105.

[2] See John 20:31.

[3] Luke 2:11–12 (ESV).

[4] See Luke 2:41–49.

[5] John 17:1 (ESV).

[6] See John 13:1.

[7] John 12:27 (ESV).

[8] Luke 2:49 (KJV).

[9] Luke 2:49 (ESV).

[10] Mark 14:44 (paraphrased).

[11] See John 12:6.

[12] Proverbs 12:20 (ESV).

[13] Matthew 26:21; Mark 14:18 (ESV).

[14] See John 13:22.

[15] Matthew 26:22, 25; Mark 14:19 (paraphrased).

[16] John Lennon, “Crippled Inside” (1971).

[17] Psalm 139:23–24 (KJV).

[18] John 6:63–64 (ESV).

[19] Matthew 26:50 (ESV).

[20] R. T. France, The Gospel of Mark: A Commentary on the Greek Text, The New International Greek Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 663.

[21] Matthew 16:16 (ESV).

[22] Matthew 16:22 (paraphrased).

[23] Matthew 27:11; Mark 15:2; Luke 23:3; John 18:33 (paraphrased).

[24] John 18:36 (ESV).

[25] Matthew 26:53 (paraphrased).

[26] 2 Corinthians 10:4 (ESV).

[27] Zechariah 4:6 (paraphrased).

[28] Luke 4:30 (ESV).

[29] John 7:30 (ESV).

[30] Luke 22:37 (ESV).

[31] Luke 22:37 (ESV).

[32] John 10:18 (paraphrased).

[33] Matthew 20:28; Mark 10:45 (ESV).

[34] John 17:6 (paraphrased).

[35] Matthew 11:28 (ESV).

[36] John 10:14 (paraphrased).

[37] Galatians 2:20 (ESV).

[38] Horatio Gates Spafford, “It Is Well with My Soul” (1873).

[39] Romans 5:6 (NIV).

[40] Philip Paul Bliss, “Jesus Loves Even Me” (1870).

[41] Luke 15:18–19 (paraphrased).