From Sorrow to Joy

I invite you to turn to the Gospel of John, to chapter 16, and to follow along as I read from verse 16. John 16 and beginning to read at 16, and Jesus is speaking:

“‘A little while, and you will see me no longer; and again a little while, and you will see me.’ So some of his disciples said to one another, ‘What is this that he says to us, “A little while, and you will not see me, and again a little while, and you will see me”; and, “because I am going to the Father”?’ So they were saying, ‘What does he mean by “a little while”? We do not know what he is talking about.’ Jesus knew that they wanted to ask him, so he said to them, ‘Is this what you[’re] asking yourselves, what I meant by saying, “A little while and you will not see me, and again a little while and you will see me”? Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice. You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy. When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world. So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you. In that day you will ask nothing of me. Truly, truly, I say to you, whatever you ask of the Father in my name, he will give it to you. Until now you have asked nothing in my name. Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full.’”

Amen.

We humbly ask, gracious Father, that by the Holy Spirit, you will take your truth and plant it deep in us, and fashion and shape us in your likeness, we pray.[1] For we ask it in Jesus’ name. Amen.

“Truly, truly,” Jesus says, “I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice. You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy.” That is John 16:20, and it is the focus of our study this morning, as we near the end of the… We’re running out of “Truly, trulys” in John’s Gospel. And so, we’re not deliberately moving slowly, but we are actually moving quite slowly.

Jesus, as we know now—because we’ve been in this section of the Bible for a while—Jesus has been preparing his disciples for the fact that he’s going to be leaving them. Classically and perhaps best known of all: the beginning of chapter 14, where he tells them that he’s going away to prepare a place for them, and if he goes and prepares a place for them, he will come again, and he will take them to himself.[2] And that, of course, is not met by an immediate sense of affirmation but is followed up by a bunch of questions, notably, on the part of the disciples: “We don’t really know where you’re going. How can we possibly know the way?”[3] That’s Thomas. And it goes on from there. Clearly, they’re not immediately grasping the reality. He says to them later in 14, “I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.”[4] “What in the world can that possibly mean?” they’re saying. “It is to your advantage that I go away,” he says here in 16:7.

Now, in rehearsing that, it becomes clear, as we’re actually about to see particularly, that his followers are having a really hard time grasping what he’s saying. And so it’s no surprise that we read in 16:12, if your Bible is open, that Jesus says to them, “You know, I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. I’ve been telling you these things, and it’s clear that you’re not on track. And there are more things that I have to say to you, but now is not the time for that.”[5]

And then he explains when that time will be: under the agency of the Holy Spirit. Verse 13:

When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth, for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine; therefore I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you.

Now, it’s important that we pause just for a minute and make sure we understand what is being said here. This little phrase “He will lead you into all truth” is notoriously misinterpreted in all kinds of contexts, as if somehow or another, the fact of the work of the Holy Spirit to do what we’re asking him to do this morning—namely, illuminate our minds, clear away the mist from our eyes, open the ears of our understanding, open the pathways of our heart—in asking that, that we are actually being the beneficiaries of what is being said here, that he will lead us into all truth.

It’s become very contemporary, hasn’t it, for people to talk about “my truth”? “Well, of course, that’s just my truth.” And as those who want to believe the Bible, we want to stand away from such a notion. We know that truth is found in Jesus and in Christ, ultimately, alone. That does not mean that there is no other truth elsewhere but that any truth that is real truth finds its reality there. And yet in local Bible studies, you often find people saying, “Well, my truth, my feeling in relationship to this…” And it’s more often than not “my feeling,” so that experience trumps truth. “Well, I know the Bible says this about divorce, but my feeling on this is…,” “I know it says we should be this, but my feeling about this…,” and so on.

Truth is found in Jesus Christ, ultimately, alone. That does not mean that there is no other truth elsewhere but that any truth that is real truth finds its reality there.

So what is Jesus promising there? He’s promising the fact that that which the disciples do not grasp, when the Holy Spirit comes, they will be then led into all the truth. And having been led into all the truth, they will then preach the truth. They will then record the truth. They will then provide the truth to the generations that are to come. And where is that truth to be found? It’s to be found in the Scriptures. David Wells masterfully tackles this. And I want to give you this quote, and you can follow up on it on your own. It’s in his book God in the Whirlwind, which is, as the rest of his books, wonderfully helpful.

How is it that Jesus, then, is accomplishing this? How is it that the Holy Spirit, then, will “guide you into all … truth”? He says,

He did so by guiding the apostles into recording with complete fidelity all that had been revealed in Christ … so that the church would have [the] objective revelation in its hands and in its pulpits. In subsequent generations, after Christ had ascended, it was this truth that [was to] be preached. And … its center is the person of Christ. It is this preached Christ who is heard in the world, and it is because of the Spirit’s work that there are those who come to believe in him. The Spirit convicts the world of its unbelief … and points men and women to Christ.[6]

So the exercise is not subjective. It’s not a looking into ourselves, as is a contemporary perspective, but it is looking out from ourselves to the objective truth that is provided for us in the Scriptures. That is what Jesus is dealing with here in verse 13. He’s pointing out to these folks that the ministry of the Holy Spirit will more than compensate for his physical absence.

And I found it important all the time as I was thinking about this during the week to remind myself that we as readers have an advantage that those to whom he is speaking in this instance themselves do not have. The advantage is that we know the rest of the story. We know as we read here that what he’s talking about is the reality of his death, the reality of his resurrection, and so on. But these fellows are unaware of that. They are in a position of trying to figure out this framework that he’s laying down for them, the idea that there is a Messiah who dies. They had no framework for a dying Messiah; furthermore, a Messiah who not only dies but rises from the dead; furthermore, a Messiah who doesn’t stay with his followers forever, but he abandons his followers in order that they might be left in the custody of another Helper.

A Discussion

And so it is that you come to verse 16. And Jesus’ somewhat enigmatic statement in verse 16, “A little while, and you will see me no longer; and again a little while, and you will see me,” it gives rise to a discussion. I have just four headings: “Discussion”… Yeah, that’s the only one I can remember at the moment. That’s okay. It’s the only one you need. Okay? The discussion. There it is, verse 17: “So some of his disciples said to one another…” Discussion.

Now, when… And you may be here this morning, and you’re just coming to the Bible for the first time. You maybe have been invited here, and you’ve never really read a Gospel, and you, I hope, are being struck, as we ought to be struck, by the straightforward honesty of the way the writers record the events of the life and ministry of Jesus. They provide us with an unvarnished picture of what is going on. And so, instead of what we might imagine—that the disciples, after Jesus said, “A little while, you will see me no longer; a little while, and you will see me,” they said, “Got it, yep, thank you, that’s lovely”—instead of that, no, they are all at sea.

Now, this is not new. For example, in a remarkable situation, after Jesus has explained that he’s going to suffer and be killed and after three days rise again, Peter, whom some regard as the first pope, took Jesus aside and began to rebuke him.[7] Anybody reading the Bible goes, “Now, that doesn’t make any sense at all. Why would he be rebuking him? I thought he was the foundation. I thought he was the key to the whole thing.” Why… If you were inventing this, you wouldn’t write it in this way. So when people say, “You know, what we have in the Gospels is something that was all cobbled together two hundred years later, and after they cleaned it up and figured it out, they put it all down in a way that would immediately appeal to people”—read it! It doesn’t look like that at all, does it? It doesn’t look like an invention. It looks like what it is: the record of true events.

So look at what they’re saying—the discussion: “So some of his disciples said to one another, ‘What is this that he says …?’” They don’t immediately get it. He keeps saying this “little while,” no “little while,” “little while.” And “so they were saying”—verse 18—“‘What does he mean by “a little while”’?”—and, classically, “‘We do not know what he is talking about.’” Greatest teacher ever known to man, speaking. “Hm. Hm.” It’s true of all of us. We are by nature blind, and we’re deaf. “Open [up] my eyes that I may see…”[8] I wonder: Has God opened your eyes?

I heard a wonderful testimony this week—a professor, associate professor, of history at the University of North Carolina. Her name is Molly Worthen. I was introduced to her by a friend in Australia. And as I listened to her testimony, I was struck by the way that she had wrestled with these things: brought up in a very secular environment, agnostic at best, and somebody encouraged her to read the Bible. And as she says in this testimony, what impacted her was the fact that the Gospel writers were so candid. There was such a candor about the way in which they wrote it. She said, “It seemed to me that they were introducing us to things that almost in some sense worked against them too.” So, for example, we have the record of Peter—Peter, who is the one who says, “No, we’re not doing that, Jesus,” and here’s Jesus saying, “Get behind me, Satan!”[9] Peter, the one who says, “I’ll die with you; if everybody else bails on you, I’ll be with you”[10]—and then he denies. And she said, “I was then stirred in my agnosticism by the amazing transformation that came about as a result of the resurrection.” And she said, “Something had to happen to bring about this change.”

And again I say to you: you may be wondering about the things of Jesus and the gospel. So let me encourage you. Let me encourage you: don’t go looking for some feeling in your tummy. Read your Bible. You’ve got a feeling in your tummy, that’s okay; but that’s not the issue. No, you’re going to have to read the Bible. Because your mind matters. You’re going to have to read, mark, learn what is in the Bible. You’re going to have to dig, learn, study, think. Because the truth of the gospel is not the discovery of the casual inquirer. “And you will seek me and you will find me when you search for me with all your heart.”[11]

Now, Jesus joins in this little discussion by, in verse 19, saying to them… You can tell that they wanted to ask him. I don’t think we have to make this supernatural. If you’re in company with a group of people, you can overhear conversation. He knows they desperately want to try and get an answer. None of them wants to put up their hand. And so he says, “Is this what you[’re] asking yourselves, what I meant by saying, ‘A little while and you will not see me, and again a little while and you will see me’?”

A Declaration

The discussion then gives rise to Jesus’ declaration—that was the second one—which is our “Truly, truly”: “I say to you, you will weep and lament.” That’s the first thing they need to know: “You will weep and lament.” They knew their Old Testament: “There’s a time to be born; there’s a time to die. There’s a time to weep; there’s a time to laugh. There’s a time to mourn, and there’s a time to dance.”[12] That is the reality of human experience both in Christ and outside of Christ. But it is particularly, here, mentioned in this regard. When they find themselves, after the crucifixion, in despair, then they will display their sadness in their tears and in their lament.

We can’t delay on this, but it is perhaps useful just to make a little note in your notes: the disciples were not Stoics. They would not have been of fan of Henley’s “Invictus”—you know, “My head is bloody, but unbowed”; “I am the captain of my” salvation and my fate and so on.[13] They were not like that at all—the idea that somehow or another, Christianity, the reality of who Jesus is and what he’s done, transforms us entirely from the experiences of life: from the sadnesses, the pains, the disappointments, the bereavements, the heartaches, all of that… The Christian experiences all of that. And Jesus legitimizes the tears by his own tears. If fear is simply an expression of unbelief, then what do we make of the hesitancy of Jesus? “Father, save me from this hour.”[14] “You will weep. You will lament.”

Secondly, he says, “[And] the world will rejoice.” “The world will rejoice.” In other words, he says, “I want you to know that while you enter into the reality of sadness and disappointment and so on, you should be aware of the fact that what’s going on around you will not be sharing it with you. In fact, it is the very antithesis of that.”

Now, for example, we have that recorded for us again in the Gospel of Matthew, in chapter 27 and in verse 39. And Jesus is crucified: “And those who passed by derided him, wagging their heads.” “Wagging their heads.” (“You will weep. They will rejoice.”) And they said to him, shouted up to him, “You, who said you would destroy the temple and raise it again in three days, if you’re the Son of God, come down from the cross!”[15] “The world will rejoice.” The chief priests, the scribes, the elders, they mocked him, saying, “He saved others, but you know, he can’t save himself. He’s the king of Israel? Let him come down from the cross, and we will believe in him. He trusts in God? Well then, let God deliver him, if he desires him. For he said, ‘I’m the Son of God.’”[16] “And the robbers who were crucified with him also reviled him in [this] way.”[17]

You’re going to have more questions than you’ve had hot dinners. Jesus comes to answer your need. What is your need? Your need of him as a Savior, as a Lord and a King.

In other words, Jesus says, “You will weep and you will lament, but the world will delight” in apparently having dismissed him, disposed of him in such a decisive fashion. And thirdly he says, “And you will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will be turned to joy.”

Now, it’s quite a lot, isn’t it? It’s a lot for us just to think about it, but to be there in the immediacy of it and experiencing it… And they’re looking, I would imagine, at one another now and saying, “That was the… That was the answer to the question?” See, Jesus didn’t really answer their question. He answered their need. People say, “Well, if he doesn’t answer my questions…” Listen: you’re going to have more questions than you’ve had hot dinners. Jesus comes to answer your need. What is your need? Your need of him as a Savior, as a Lord and a King. All of us have questions.

An Illustration

They look at one another and say, “Well, this is it.” So Jesus masterfully, as a teacher, provides—third point—the illustration. The illustration. Discussion, declaration, illustration. “Truly, truly…” And then he says, “[Let’s look at it this way:] When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she[’s] delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for [the] joy that a [child] has been born into the world.”

Now, Jesus knew this by observation. He knew this by observation. We know from the Bible that he had siblings and that he presumably had at some level experienced the very reality about which he now speaks. We speak, I speak, as a man, with great hesitancy in an illustration like this. This is where our wives know what we don’t know in terms of the subjective reality of it. And indeed, some of you men may have similar experiences to my own.

I dutifully attended the classes for the preparation for the arrival of what turned out to be our son, our first child. I remember I was supposed to lie on the floor in some church hall or something, and a lady was explaining about breathing and breathing in and breathing out. I must say I found it hilarious. I was twenty-five at the time, and as with most things, I found it incredibly funny. The lady asked me to leave—the lady not being my wife but the teacher in the class. And so, dutifully, I left. I realized… I was so smug, I thought, “I got it all anyway. It’s not a problem.”

Well, then the day came, a Sunday afternoon. I preached in the morning, and I told Sue as I dropped her at hospital, “Do not have the baby until I come back, because it’s important for me to be here. You will need me.” And so I preached in the morning, and then I left and drove to the hospital. And like a good submissive wife, she didn’t produce the baby until about three in the afternoon. But in the process with the midwife—with the midwife—I wanted so desperately to be a part of things, even though I failed the class. And I remember I began to give exhortations or words of encouragement. And the midwife was from Ireland, and she tapped me on the arm, and she said, “Mister Begg, one set of instructions will do fine, thank you.” And then there it was: all that breathing and funny noises, and then joy.

You see, the disciples were strangers to the notion, to the idea of death and resurrection. And so Jesus says, “Well, listen. You’re familiar with what happens when a baby’s born, aren’t you? Well then, think about that.” An expectant mother suffers with joy and with hope. The birth is the occasion of, first of all, pain, and then, secondly, joy. She is there in anticipation of a reality whereby one not yet born will emerge from the womb.

An Explanation

And so, setting that picture in their minds, he then goes on by way of explanation, which is our final heading: discussion, declaration, illustration, explanation. Notice: “So”—verse 22. “So…” “So also you…” “You have sorrow now, but I[’ll] see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take [the] joy from you.”

When he says “now,” he’s using this—for those of you who are English majors—proleptically. In other words, that which is yet to come—the impending cross—he speaks of it as though it is already present: “So you have sorrow now,” speaking about the nature of what is about to be. Just as the birth is the cause of pain and the source of joy, that, he says, is true of the cross. Just as this child eventually emerges from the womb, so he wants them to know that he himself will emerge from the tomb. “And when that happens,” he says, “your sorrow will be turned to joy.”

Now, as we read on in the Gospels—and it’s strange; we should be doing all of this before Easter, as it were, but this is the way things work—by the time you get to the twentieth chapter of John’s Gospel, which records for us the nature of the resurrection… John 20:19: “On the evening of that day, the first day of the week, the doors being locked where the disciples were for fear of the Jews…” There they are. “You will weep, and you will lament.” Fearful! He “said to them, ‘Peace be with you.’” And “when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side.” Listen: “Then the disciples were glad”—then the disciples were filled with joy—“when they saw the Lord.”

And that joy, says Jesus, is a joy that is unassailable. It is not a joy that emerges from circumstances being beneficial to our liking, because so much of our lives are marked by things that impinge upon what we would regard as happiness and success and so on. Is there, then, a joy? Is it possible to be, like C. S. Lewis, surprised by joy, by a reality about which Jesus is speaking here to disciples that are about to get it, but not yet? Some of us, perhaps, are about to get it too.

And so he says… And I don’t want to spend long on this at all. If you follow what he says, again: “After the resurrection,” he says, “in that day, you will ask nothing of me. You’ve all been filled with questions all the time. You’re not going to be asking these questions as before. You won’t be asking questions like ‘What do you mean you’re going to prepare a place for us? What do you mean that you will come again?’ No, in that day, when that happens, things will fall into line. And you will then pray, and your prayers will be to the Father. Because up until now, you’ve asked nothing in my name.” Now they’re going to ask the Father for good things, who’s delighted to give good things to them that ask him.[18] They’re going to ask the Father for the reality of the Holy Spirit that the Father is delighted to give to them, not only in their reality of Pentecost but in the ongoing experience of their Christian pilgrimage.

On the basis of all that Jesus is, you will ask in his name. And he says, “[I want to encourage you:] ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full.” There’s a link here between prayerfulness, fruitfulness, and joyfulness. I don’t think it is possible for us to know what Jesus is speaking about here unless we actually do come and ask the Father; unless we do come and pray; unless we do recognize, as the hymn writer puts it,

You are coming to a King.
Large petitions with you bring.
For his grace and power is such
That no one could ever ask too much.[19]

“Ask. You will receive. Your joy will be full.”

I need to say, by way of conclusion, just one thing, and it is this: that there is an interpretive question in all that we’ve been discussing this morning. I say “discussing”—the thought that there is something of a dialogue going on between us. The great dialogue, of course, is what’s going on between God the Holy Spirit and each of us.

The way in which I’ve unfolded this text is understanding that what Jesus is expressly addressing here is the time between the crucifixion and the resurrection: “In a little while, you will be sad. In another little while, you will be happy.” Their sorrow will be turned into joy on the basis that they see the risen Jesus. That’s the way I’ve chosen to approach it. I’ve chosen not to frontload it with the question that I want to give to you now—not that we can unpack it but in order that you might know and can think these things through. Because apparently, you’re sensible people, and so you can study the Bible and ask for God’s help.

Many, many commentators tackle this section in the way that I have tackled it, but not all do. And some of the folks that don’t are “biggies,” if that’s okay. You say, “How big?” Calvin. Augustine. J. C. Ryle. They say, “No, what Jesus is not talking about here—he’s not talking about Easter. He’s talking about the Parousia. He’s talking about the day when he returns. That is when your joy will be full. That is when all that will take place.” Well, of course, that is perfectly true. But is that what he’s talking about here?

Would I even dare to have a different view from Augustine? Yeah! It’s just a different interpretation. The truth is the truth. The meaning is the meaning. The interpretation is what we fiddle with. No, I get it. I say I’m not convinced that we have to set them in opposition to one another. Easter is not the return of Jesus. There’s no collapsing of Easter into the return. It’s not as if the return of Jesus denudes Easter of its significance. No, it is Easter that gives impetus to the return of Jesus. It is Easter that gives rise to the ascension, which gives rise, then, to the return. Easter is a historical reality. It opens the door. Because it is true, as Paul says at the end of 1 Corinthians 13: “Now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face.”[20] Well, that’s what the disciples experienced: “I’m gone: you’ll weep and lament. But when you see me face-to-face…” That was then. This is now.

What do we anticipate? That we, too, will see him face-to-face. Then I shall know fully—so that Augustine and Calvin and Ryle and Don Carson and all the others, we will then be able to sit together, have a cup of tea or whatever else it is, and finally find out who was right on John 16:16–24. “Then I shall [fully know], even as I have been fully known.”[21]

Because, as he goes on to say… In fact, by the time he gets to the end of chapter 16, he says, “In the world you will have tribulation. But … I have overcome the world.”[22] And so it is clear that in the discovery, the ongoing journey, of the apostles themselves, they had occasion to weep and to lament. They had the reality of death to face, as do we.

I couldn’t get away from one thought, which I use to close. As a boy in a Bible class group called the Crusaders, we would be taken mainly to the Cairngorm Mountains to go trekking. Now, trekking, as a word, has never held instant appeal for me. If you look up the verb to trek, it means a long, arduous journey, usually conducted on foot. So the invitation would be given: “Okay, boys, Friday afternoon, get ready after school. Get your boots. Get your rucksack. Get ready. We are going trekking.” Well, I don’t want to miss out, so I’ll go. “Mom, I need boots.” She gets boots—boots that have never been worn. All right, never worn. And off we go. I try it at first. A little further: “I hate this. These are the wrong kind of boots. Sir, I’m not going to be able to go with the…” “Shut up, Begg. We’re trekking. We’re going up here, and you’re coming.” Horrible! Horrible.

And then, to add to it, the leader—his name was Howard Peebles—he thought it would be a good idea for us to sing while we’re going. Sing while we’re going! You’ve got to be out of your mind! There ain’t going to be no singing now. What did he teach us to sing? A song by Fanny Crosby, which goes like this:

A few more marchings weary
Then we’ll gather home.
A few more storm clouds dreary,
Then we’ll gather home.
A few more days the cross to bear,
And then with Christ a crown to wear;
A few more marchings weary,
Then we’ll gather home.[23]

People said, “Stick with this. You’ll be amazed at the view from the top.” And the only reason I would be prepared to humble myself in this way is to tell you that I did reach the top. And Peebles was absolutely right. Jesus is absolutely right: “In that day you will rejoice.” What a great prospect!

Father, thank you. Thank you for Jesus. Thank you, Jesus, that you came. Holy Spirit, won’t you teach us more about his lovely name? And we pray it in his name. Amen.

[1] Stuart Townend and Keith Getty, “Speak, O Lord” (2005).

[2] See John 14:1–3.

[3] John 14:5 (paraphrased).

[4] John 14:18 (ESV).

[5] John 16:12 (paraphrased).

[6] David F. Wells, God in the Whirlwind: How the Holy-Love of God Reorients Our World (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2014), 95–96.

[7] See Matthew 16:22; Mark 8:32.

[8] Psalm 119:18 (NIV).

[9] Matthew 16:23; Mark 8:33 (ESV).

[10] Matthew 26:33 (paraphrased).

[11] Jeremiah 29:13 (paraphrased).

[12] Ecclesiastes 3:2, 4 (paraphrased).

[13] William Ernest Henley, “Invictus” (1888).

[14] John 12:27 (ESV).

[15] Matthew 27:40 (paraphrased).

[16] Matthew 27:42–43 (paraphrased).

[17] Matthew 27:44 (ESV).

[18] See Matthew 7:11.

[19] John Newton, “Come, My Soul, Thy Suit Prepare” (1779). Lyrics lightly altered.

[20] 1 Corinthians 13:12 (KJV).

[21] 1 Corinthians 13:12 (ESV).

[22] John 16:33 (ESV).

[23] Fanny Jane Crosby, “A Few More Marchings Weary” (1882).