The Keeping Power of God

I invite you to turn to the seventeenth chapter of the Gospel of John and to follow along as I read the first thirteen verses. John 17:1:

“When Jesus had spoken these words, he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and said, ‘Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son that the Son may glorify you, since you have given him authority over all flesh, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. And this is eternal life, that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. I glorified you on earth, having accomplished the work that you gave me to do. And now, Father, glorify me in your … presence with the glory that I had with you before the world existed.

“‘I have manifested your name to the people whom you gave me out of the world. Yours they were, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word. Now they know that everything that you have given me is from you. For I have given them the words that you gave me, and they have received them and have come to know in truth that I came from you; and they have believed that you sent me. I am praying for them. I[’m] not praying for the world but for those whom you have given me, for they are yours. All mine are yours, and yours are mine, and I am glorified in them. And I[’m] no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, keep them in your name, which you have given me, that they may be one, even as we are one. While I was with them, I kept them in your name, which you[’ve] given me. I have guarded them, and not one of them has been lost except the son of destruction, that the Scripture might be fulfilled. But now I am coming to you, and these things I speak in the world, that they may have my joy fulfilled in themselves.’”

Amen.

Humbly we ask, gracious God, that you will “take your truth, plant it deep in us; shape and fashion us”[1] in the likeness of your Son, whose name is above every name. And at that name one day every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of you, our heavenly Father.[2] Amen.

Well, clearly, if you have a good memory, you will recall that we began to study John 17 some time ago, and with the briefest of pauses, we return to it this morning. There’s a sense—and I think we said this at the very beginning of these studies—that for us to find ourselves in this particular chapter is to find ourselves, if you like, on sacred ground, in much the same way as when Moses was confronted by the bush that burned and was not extinguished, he took his shoes from his feet—his sandals were off—and he bowed before God. And here we have the amazing experience of being made privy to the intimacy of the relationship between the Father and the Son and the wonder of the Trinity. And it is that which frames all of the study in the entire chapter.

In coming back to it, I found myself asking a question. I asked it of myself; perhaps you can ask it of yourself: If it were possible—if it were possible—to go back through time to live in the period of the earthly ministry of Jesus and if it were possible only for us to be present for one particular event, which event would you choose? The Sermon on the Mount, so that we might listen to the clarity of that? His baptism? The feeding of the five thousand? Probably some would want to be there for that. The raising of Lazarus?

I don’t know. But I found myself wondering: If the disciples were to be asked of all the things that they experienced during the period of time in which they were under the custody and direction of Jesus himself, if they were to be asked, “And what event would you want to return to?” I just wonder if they wouldn’t say, “I think together we would return to this event”—to these moments that are so private; they’re so personal; they’re so profoundly precious, encapsulating the expression from his heart, Jesus’ great concern for those whom the Father had given to him.

In fact, in verse 6, he’s speaking about his deep concern for “the people,” he says, “Father, whom you have given to me out of the world.” It must have been quite incredible. And clearly, this prayer was audible to these people; otherwise, they would be unable to record it for us. They heard it. It wasn’t simply that they saw him in a posture of prayer, in a private way, and they wondered at what was being said. No, they understood what was being said.

And when Jesus says, “I am … praying for … those whom you have given me, for they are yours,” I imagine Philip motioning to John and saying, “He’s praying about us. He’s talking about us.” For that is exactly what he’s doing. It’s staggering, really. Because in the shadow of the cross, just hours away from his own crucifixion, hours away from the kiss from Judas, hours away from the beatings and the strippings and the reclothing and all of that, Jesus is actually, in the hour of his departure, concerned for those who are going to remain in the world. He says, “I am going out from this, Father, but they are remaining.”

I hope you remember when we studied earlier in John and we paused at least for a moment in John chapter 13, where John says of Jesus, “Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.”[3] And in chapter 13 you’re saying, “Well, we have to read to the end to discover the extent of his love.” And the extent of his love is expressed here as he prays for them in this context.

He ‘who dwells in unapproachable light’ is actually approachable in Jesus.

You will notice the terminology in verse 11. He actually says, “And I am no longer in the world.” We’re not going to keep using the word proleptically—this is the last time I’ll plan on using it—but that is exactly what is happening here. Jesus’ departure is so near that he can actually use the present tense to describe it. And the disciples are to be left alone in what is essentially a cold, wicked world. He’s been preparing them for this before, but certainly at the beginning of chapter 14, where he sits with them and he says, “Now listen: Don’t let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God. Believe also in me.”[4] And then he goes on to explain the wonder of all that will unfold in the glory, when, gathered into the presence of Jesus, that which is anticipated will then be enjoyed.

All of that by way of preparation—and now he addresses his Father: “Holy Father…” Notice the way the sentence goes: “And I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you.” There’s a period there in English. That’s the end of that statement. Then “Holy Father” begins his address—God, the Holy One, transcendent deity; “Father,” the expression of his personal intimacy. He “who dwells in unapproachable light”[5] is actually approachable in Jesus.

And he realizes that this wicked world that he’s leaving these guys behind in is such that the holiness of the Father is to be the holiness of their lives so that they might shine as lights in the darkness. And since that world is a cold and a difficult world, he needs them, he wants them to know that what they have is a Father like no other father. That’s why when the disciples were concerned about prayer earlier on in the ministry, he says to them, “Now, listen—when you pray, pray like this: ‘Our Father…’”[6] “Our Father…” Now, you see, that was staggering for these people, even when he adds, “[And] hallowed be your name.”[7] Because as we’ve learned all the way along, God’s name is the revelation of his character, in much the same way that in other parts of the world, as I think we’ve said on every occasion, often names are given in order to express either a present character or a desired character, not just to distinguish between Tom and Bill.

And so when we think about the name of God—and that’s why we just sang as we sang—all those Old Testament names are ultimately encapsulated in the name that is above every name. El Shaddai: What are we saying in El Shaddai? We’re saying, “You are the Lord God Almighty. You are the all-sufficient God.” El-Elyon: “You are the most high God.” Adonai: “You are Master, and you are Lord.” “Holy Father, keep them in your name. This is a cold and wicked world I’m leaving them in. They need to know who you are.”

That’s who he addresses. He is addressing himself to the Father.

This is beyond our ability to fully fathom, isn’t it? That somehow or another, God speaks to God. That within the framework of the Trinity, the Father is in the receiving position of the cries of his Son, whom he has known from all eternity, with whom he is coequal. “Holy Father, keep them.” “Keep them.” If your Bible is open, you can see in verse 32 of the previous chapter, he’s asking that those who are about to be scattered may be kept: “Behold, the hour is coming”—16:32— “indeed it has come,” he says to his boys, he says, “when you will be scattered, each [of you] to [your] own home.” “I understand that,” he says. “You’re going to make a run for it. You are! You might not think so, but I’m telling you: You will. Now I am praying for you.” “Holy Father, keep them.” “Keep them.”

Now, you see, this is an amazing thing. Because remember, for the Jew—the orthodox Jewish person, even to this day—they will not take the name of God upon their lips. Jesus breaks that bond, doesn’t he? In fact, in the fourteenth chapter of the Gospel of Mark, when Jesus prays in the garden of Gethsemane, what does he say? “Abba, Father…”[8]

Yesterday, when I had the privilege of sharing in the funeral of the Nigerian family that was extended by means of telecast out to Nigeria itself, it was striking to me that as one after another of the family made reference to the father and the grandfather (who died, I think, at the age of ninety-four), they said—and the son-in-law said—“I immediately called him Daddy.” Daddy. And he says, “Without embarrassment, I want you to know that I called him Daddy, because of his character, because of his influence, because of his kindness, because of his grace.” This is not a God who lives away up there and doesn’t care. This is a God who has made himself known savingly in his Son. And now it is the Son that expresses to his Father, in such intimate terms, “Father, all things are possible for you. If it were possible, would you let this cup pass from me? Abba!”[9]

A monotheistic Jew like Saul of Tarsus, who denied the name of Jesus, who had no interest in it—in fact, was opposed to it entirely—by the time he writes Romans in chapter 8, what is he telling us? He says, “You have received the Spirit of adoption of sons, whereby you call him ‘Abba, Father.’”[10] “You’re my Father.” And in Galatians 4 he does the same thing: “When the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son,”[11] whereby we address him in this way.[12]

Well, there’s more there than we can spend time on. But notice that the one that he addresses is the “Holy Father,” and the request that he makes is straightforward. They’re going to scatter, concerned for their own physical safety. Jesus is concerned for their spiritual unity. Notice, that is exactly what he prays: “Holy Father, keep them in your name, which you have given me, in order that, being kept, they may be united—united in such a way that it is expressive of the union that I have with you and with the Holy Spirit from all of eternity.” An essential union! It can’t be duplicated in the experience of the children of God. This is unique, but used as the picture of that for which he prays, it’s powerful.

In other words, it’s a union that is close, intimate, unbroken. It’s a unity of mind. It’s a unity of will. It’s a unity of opinion. It’s a unity of feeling. It is a unity. Leon Morris, the Australian commentator of old, has a wonderful little section where he says if you want to understand what is being said here when Jesus is asking for the Father to keep them in the oneness that is theirs, he says it is “all wills bowing in the same direction, all affections burning with the same flame,” and “all aims directed to the same end.”[13]

And Jesus is not requesting something that the Father is reluctant to do. The concern—God’s concern for us and about us as his children—supersedes our greatest concerns for ourselves. What we need to know, in some senses more than anything else, is not only that we have a Father but that the Father knows everything about us and loves us, and his concern for us extends from all eternity to eternity and all the journey in between.

I stopped in my studies this week at this very point, and I immediately went on my phone to find one of my favorite singers. I’m not going to tell you who it is, because she’s going to be here tonight, ’cause I’ll have her sing. Okay? And I just put it on my desk, and I sat and listened:

Why should I feel discouraged?
Why should the shadows come?
Why should my heart [seem] lonely
And long for heaven and home,
When Jesus is my portion?
My constant friend is he;
[And] his eye is on the sparrow,
And I know he watches me.[14]

Yeah! “His eye is on the sparrow, and I know he watches me.”

God’s concern for us and about us supersedes our greatest concerns for ourselves.

Are you convinced of the love of God for you—that his concern about you, his interest in you, his desires for you supersedes anything that we may long for in ourselves? Jesus is not asking for something that the Father is unwilling to bestow. And not only do we actually see the intimacy between the Father and the Son, but we see the harmony: that they’re both, if you like—if I may say so reverently—they’re singing from the same sheet of music.

That’s why he goes on to say, “I’m asking you to keep them,” then verse 12: “But now I’m coming to you…” No, I beg your pardon; that was verse 13. We’ll come to that. Verse 12: “While I was with them, I kept them in your name, which you have given me.” “I kept them, the ones you gave me.” There’s a sense in which our studies in the “Truly, trulys” are all grounded in John chapter 6, to which we find ourselves returning again and again: “those whom you have given me”—that the Father has given a gift to the Son, and those whom he has given come to him.

And what Jesus is saying here in verse 12 is “I’m asking you, Father, to keep them, as you know I’m about to make a move here. I have kept them. I kept my eye on them.” (“I’ve got my eye on you.”) “I … guarded them.” “I … guarded them.” Of course he did! Remember, he says to Peter, “Satan has desired to sift you as wheat, but I have prayed for you.”[15] It’s not only in the singular, incidentally, in that verse. He’s speaking not only of Peter, but he’s speaking of the entire group: “I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail.”

Also, he kept them by keeping them on the right track, by making sure that the things that they thought were important were the things that were important. It’s easy for us to get that completely wrong, just as the disciples did. Let me give you just one illustration of it, in Luke 10. In Luke 10: “[And] the seventy-two”—verse 17—“the seventy-two returned with joy, saying, ‘Lord, even the demons are subject to us in your name!’ And he said to them, ‘I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven.’” (They must have said, “What does that mean?”) “‘Behold, I have given you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing [will] hurt you. Nevertheless,’” he says, “‘do[n’t] rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven’”—not the extent of your ministry but the fact of your sonship, not the influence that you’ve enjoyed but the fact that you belong. “Father, keep them. I’ve kept them from the assaults of the devil, from the way in which their minds may go in the wrong direction.”

I think it’s very important—I hope you do, too—that we keep in mind that the disciples were in many ways just like us. In what sense? Frail, prone to sin, unexceptional, ordinary, sometimes impulsive, sometimes skeptical, often ignorant, and often excited about things they shouldn’t be excited about at all. It’s not hard for me to find myself in that picture. I hope you see yourself there too.

When we reflect upon our lives, we realize the keeping power of God—that he keeps us. Moment by moment, we’re kept by his love. He doesn’t keep us on an annual basis. He keeps us on a moment-by-moment basis. He keeps us when we don’t even know we’re being kept.

When in the slippery paths of youth
With heedless steps I ran,
Your [hand] unseen conveyed me safe
And [brought] me up to man.[16]

The reason that you and I are here today, brothers and sisters in Christ, is because Jesus prays for you. He continues to intercede. We have an Advocate with the Father—that we are actually included in this prayer as disciples.

They were kept—but, notice, Judas was lost: “I have guarded them, and not one of them has been lost, but the son of destruction has been lost.” Now, I’m not going to delay on this, but we cannot step over it, nor should we. It is clear that Judas was a friend, but he wasn’t a member of the family—a friend but not a member of the family.

When it says that this took place in the fulfillment of Scripture, it is more than likely that the reference is to the Forty-First Psalm, which in due course, if you make a note of it, you can check and make sure that it’s there. But in Psalm 41 we read,

All who hate me whisper together about me;
 they imagine the worst for me.

They say, “A deadly thing is poured out on him;
 he[’ll] not rise again from where he lies.”[17]

Here we go, verse 9:

Even my close friend in whom I trusted,
 who ate my bread, has lifted [up] his heel against me.

Now, you would then want to fast-forward to the thirteenth chapter of John and be reminded of what we discover there, when in the eighteenth verse Jesus says,

I[’m] not speaking of all of you; I know whom I have chosen. But the Scripture will be fulfilled, “He who ate my bread has lifted [up] his heel against me.” I[’m] telling you … now, before it takes place, [so] that when it does take place you may [actually] believe that I am he.

And this is one of the great mysteries, isn’t it? And this we need to be very clear about: The fact that the apostasy of Judas was predicted in no way relieves him of the decisions that he made. The fact that it was anticipated does not make Judas an automaton. Every choice he made, every decision that he made was his own choice. He acted freely and therefore is responsible for each of his decisions. God used Judas, the evil of Judas, to bring about his purpose. Because it was the purpose of God from all of eternity that Jesus Christ would be crushed and would bear the punishment for sin. And in the unfolding drama of that, God, having no part in evil himself at all, sweeps into the unfolding drama of his eternal redemptive purposes even the evil activities of those who opposed him.

Bishop Ryle, I think, helped me as well as anyone by recognizing that this is not an exception of one who was, and therefore, he fell away from it; but rather, he wasn’t, and therefore, he never continued. Listen to Ryle: He says, “Those whom [you gave to] Me…” He’s paraphrasing what Jesus is saying.

Those whom [you gave to] Me I have kept, and … not one [of them has been] lost. But there is one man who is lost, even Judas, the son of perdition; not one who was ever given to Me, but one whom [long ago] I declared … to be a “devil,” a man whose hardened heart fitted him for destruction.[18]

And in 18, if you go forward a chapter—18:9—Jesus says categorically, “This was to fulfill the word that he had spoken: ‘Of those whom you gave me I have lost not one.’” So none that were given to the Father were lost, nor could any be lost. The one who was lost was a friend but not a member of the family.

Nothing and no one defeats the divine purposes of God.

This is a reminder to us that nothing and no one defeats the divine purposes of God. There are verses in the Bible that we want to take to ourselves and hug them—put them on a pillow and secure it to ourselves and fall asleep in the late afternoon. But here’s a verse that makes us tremble, should make us tremble. After all, Judas was part of the group. Judas was present to hear the sermons. Judas participated in all of the events. And yet Judas was lost. The application is clear: You join the church because you think there’s acceptance in the church? You get baptized because you think it’s a good thing to do? No, you see, there is only one way, as we were reminded last Sunday.

Part of the problem in dealing with this for us at this point in history is because the idea of eternal destiny is pretty well out of the window. The thought forms of contemporary culture suggest that there is really nothing to worry about, because everything will continue as it was, and so on.

But if you look up the word perdition in the Oxford English Dictionary, this is what it says: perdition is “a state of eternal punishment and damnation into which a sinful and impenitent person passes after death.” “Sinful and unpenitent.” That’s why in the Book of Common Prayer we say, “Save thou, Lord, them that are penitent,” who are resting entirely on what God has done.

This week, a friend in England sent me her update on the diaries of John Newton. And in 1759, John Newton is writing to a friend called Josiah Jones, who is somewhat despondent. He feels that his Christian life isn’t going as well as he might like. And here is the encouragement that Newton gives to him. He writes to him, and he says, “I was a hardened, obstinate rebel; and now, I am a slothful, unprofitable servant.” Now, this is very good, you see. This is very good. Because this is right! Saved and yet sinful; “I was this, but now I’m this.” He says,

But when I consider the unbounded mercy of God,—the [means], sufferings, intercession, love, and power of Christ,—the condescension, variety, extent, and unchangeableness of the Divine promises,—then, I say, no matter what I was, or what I am, provided only God has shown me the necessity of salvation, made me willing to be saved in his own way, and taught me to ask for those things which he has engaged to bestow. If these things are so, I say I have the truth and power of God on my side.[19]

This is the extent of Jesus’ prayer. And this is actually the distinction between the regenerate and unregenerate. Unregenerate people by and large do not call God “Father.” Do you?

You say, “Well, are we going to finish on this dreadfully solemn note?” Well, there’s another one coming, but I’ll save that for another day. We can build up to it. Because immediately in verse 14 he’s going to remind the Father—as if he had to—that the world has hated these people. So, not only are they preserved and united, but they’re also hated.

But let’s finish on verse 13, just a word or two: “But now I[’m] coming to you, and these things I speak in the world,” in their hearing, “[so] that they may have my joy fulfilled in themselves.” So, united, preserved, filled with joy, hated. We’ll leave “hated.” Let’s end with “filled with joy.”

We know that in Jesus there is life and life more abundant—John 10:10. In 15:11, he is concerned that they might know the fullness of joy. What is this joy? What is it? It’s a peculiar sense of comfort. It’s a peculiar sense of comfort that is known only in Jesus and in nobody else. There’s not a psychologist can create this joy in you. There’s not a medicine that will give this joy to you. Only Jesus. It’s his joy. It’s not something you get off a shelf. You get it with Jesus: “my joy in them,” “my joy fulfilled.” What was his joy? “I delight to do your will, O … God”;[20] “who for the joy … set before him [went straight to] the cross.”[21] There’s “no peace, no joy, no thrill like walking in his will.”[22] There isn’t. There can’t be! God’s way is always best.

And so he says, “Make sure, Father, that they have my joy fulfilled in them”—this amazingness. Because, you see, happiness is just a spontaneous response to temporary events. It was really happy yesterday afternoon, wasn’t it? It was for me—and you’re surprised by this, but I’ll let you into a little secret into my life. There I was, with my wife beside me, going, “Yes!” when that fellow did that and he had a grand slam home run. Now, that has not lingered with me into Sunday. That was a temporary happiness. That is not my joy. If my joy is that, then what would have happened if it had gone the other way?

No, this is something very different. When Peter prays eventually and writes to the people experiencing great hardship and suffering, he says, “Though you have not seen [Jesus], you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and [you] rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory.”[23] Wow! That is something different from happiness, for sure.

Joy is experienced when I’m aware of my failures, but I know that my sin has been cleansed and I have been given the righteousness of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Let me tell you five things that is true of joy. I’m just going to read them to you so I don’t take longer than I should.

Joy is experienced when my conscience accuses me, and I know that Jesus the Son of God has forgiven me.

Joy is experienced when I’m aware of my failures, but I know that my sin has been cleansed and I have been given the righteousness of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Joy is experienced when life disappoints me and I disappoint myself, but I know that God is bringing me day by day towards a heavenly home where nothing will ever spoil, fade, or perish.

Fourthly, joy is experienced when I feel weak, but I remember that he is mighty and holds me in his powerful hand.

Joy is experienced when my outer body is wasting away, but I know that inwardly, I’m being renewed day by day until I stand before him in an entirely different, new, glorified body.

It was, I think, like, Labor Day weekend—and I told you this before, and with this I will finish—it was Labor Day weekend, maybe… Yeah, it was Labor Day weekend, 2009, because I wrote it down. And at a conference out in California, a camp called Mount Herman, a lady came to me at the end of the talk, and she said, “I want to tell you a true story.” She said, “A friend of mine was suffering from brain cancer and the impact of its treatments. He had a solid relationship with Jesus, and indeed, his relationship with Jesus and his joy was such that the duty nurse in assessing him in the morning, in writing into his chart, wrote as a critical comment, ‘Mr. X is inappropriately joyful.’” And the lady who gave this to me said, “Since then, this has become one of my goals: in Jesus, to become inappropriately joyful.”

Go back out into this gloomy world in which we all live—a cold, dark, frightening world—in the awareness of the fact that the Father keeps, that Jesus keeps, for the purpose of not only preservation but unity and so that his joy might fill us up and flow through us.

Solid joys, lasting treasure are only known in Jesus.

Father, thank you for your Word. Help us to process all of these various things. Help us to hear from you, to trust in you, to be increasingly made like your Son, Jesus. And we see ourselves in these men, surely: frail, ordinary, asking crazy questions. But how good you are to us! How gracious! You keep us kept. And we thank you in Jesus’ name. Amen.

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

[2] See Philippians 2:10–11.

[3] John 13:1 (ESV).

[4] John 14:1 (paraphrased).

[5] 1 Timothy 6:16 (ESV).

[6] Matthew 6:9 (paraphrased). See also Luke 11:2.

[7] Matthew 6:9; Luke 11:2 (ESV).

[8] Mark 14:36 (ESV).

[9] Mark 14:36 (paraphrased).

[10] Romans 8:15 (paraphrased).

[11] Galatians 4:4 (ESV).

[12] See Galatians 4:6.

[13] Leon Morris, The Gospel According to John, rev. ed., The New International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1995), 644.

[14] Civilla Durfee Martin, “His Eye Is on the Sparrow” (1905).

[15] Luke 22:31–32 (paraphrased).

[16] Joseph Addison, “When All Thy Mercies, O My God” (1712).

[17] Psalm 41:7–8 (ESV).

[18] J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels: St. John (New York: Robert Carter and Brothers, 1874), 3:190.

[19] John Newton to Josiah Jones, Liverpool, April 12, 1759, in Twenty-Five Letters, Hitherto Unpublished, of the Rev. John Newton (Edinburgh: J. Johnstone, 1840), 38.

[20] Psalm 40:8 (ESV).

[21] Hebrews 12:2 (ESV).

[22] John White, “For Me to Live Is Christ” (1969).

[23] 1 Peter 1:8 (ESV).