Tag: John

Got Questions? Good!

Thomas, one of Jesus’ twelve disciples, is often remembered as “Doubting Thomas” — but this label fails to capture the depth of his character or the significance of his encounter with the risen Christ. Far from rebuking him, Jesus invites Thomas to bring his questions forward and see for himself. This moment shows us that faith isn’t about ignoring our questions; it’s about seeking God honestly, even in doubt.

In John 20:24-29, Thomas’ response to Jesus’ resurrection is straightforward: he needs evidence. Instead of shaming him, Jesus appears to Thomas, knowing the disciple’s need to understand personally. This demonstrates that asking questions is not a flaw in our faith; it’s part of a genuine, engaged relationship with God. God, who created our minds, doesn’t ask for “blind faith” — instead, He invites us to know Him fully. Jesus even says that those who have not seen but still believe are blessed, highlighting that God values a thoughtful faith over unquestioning compliance.

Faith, after all, is not about the absence of questions but about where those questions lead us. When we encounter doubts or curiosity, these moments are opportunities to grow. Proverbs 4:7 encourages, “Though it cost all you have, get understanding.” Questions open doors to a deeper knowledge of God and often lead us to a more mature, lasting faith. They are part of loving God with our minds (Mark 12:30), engaging all of our intellect in pursuit of the truth.

If you have questions, talk with pastors, mentors, or trusted friends, and bring these to God in prayer. Remember, every question is an opportunity for growth.

Heralds of Redemption: How Women Reversed Eve’s Fall

The resurrection story holds an often-overlooked moment of redemption that goes all the way back to Eden. On that early morning, while the men hid in fear, a small group of women went to the tomb of Jesus, carrying spices and love for their crucified Teacher. What they found was earth-shattering: the stone was rolled away, the tomb was empty, and the angel of the Lord declared, “He is not here; He has risen!” They were entrusted with a message to share with the world—the first proclamation of the resurrection.

This moment is particularly significant in light of the creation account. In Genesis, Eve was deceived and led humanity into sin. Now, at the resurrection, it is women who are first to bring news of life, reversing the direction of the Fall and symbolizing a new beginning. While Eve’s decision led to separation from God, the women at the tomb brought news of a restored relationship with Him. Here we see God, in His redemptive power, choose women to be His first witnesses—an act that shattered cultural norms and spoke volumes about His value for each person, regardless of status or gender.

This account also calls us to be bold. Just as the women did not let fear or societal expectations silence them, we are encouraged to carry the message of Jesus’ victory over death, trusting that God equips the unlikely and gives voice to the humble. And just as Eve’s mistake didn’t define humanity’s end, our past does not define us. Christ’s resurrection offers a new beginning, calling us to proclaim the life we have received.

Today, may we walk in the steps of those first women, bold in our message, transformed by His victory, and unafraid to carry the truth of the resurrection wherever we go.

The Wounded Healer

During college, I first encountered The Wounded Healer by Henri Nouwen. My program director — Dr. Carl Strutt — put it on the reading list for one of his classes. At the time, I didn’t fully connect with it. Despite my relative poverty growing up in a broken family, I didn’t really understand “wounded-ness” per se. Other than the death of my grandfather when I was in Grade 3, I had never experienced anything that “grieved” me. But as the years went by, I found myself returning to the ideas in Nouwen’s book, especially as I experienced struggles of my own and walked alongside others in theirs. I began to understand the power in acknowledging our own pain and the way it allows us to empathize deeply with those who are hurting. Now, I have come to appreciate The Wounded Healer as a valuable perspective on how God’s love works through us, especially in our weaknesses.

In his account of Jesus’ suffering, John shows us how Christ embodied this idea of the wounded healer in its fullest form. Jesus wasn’t only a wounded healer; He became the very suffering that would ultimately redeem. On the cross, bearing the agony of the physical, emotional, and spiritual wounds inflicted on Him, He extended Himself entirely to meet our deepest needs for healing. The wounds of Christ were no minor affliction; they were wounds that reached to the depths of His being, and by them, we are healed (Isaiah 53:5). Jesus took on the ultimate brokenness to bring us wholeness.

In Nouwen’s language, we might say that Jesus embraced the full weight of human suffering, making His brokenness a bridge of healing for us. Just as Jesus bore the punishment we deserved, we can follow Him by recognizing that our own wounds, while painful, can also be avenues of compassion. Instead of masking our brokenness, we can choose to allow God to work through it to reach others.

So if today finds you carrying wounds — whether from past hurts, recent disappointments, or anything in between — consider how God might be inviting you to use those places of pain to bring comfort to others. Christ took on wounds for us, and He invites us to participate in His ministry by reaching out to others, not in spite of our wounds, but through them.

Real Justice

In the trials of Jesus, we witness a profound failure of justice. Jesus, innocent in every sense, is passed between leaders who recognize His innocence yet bow to the pressure of an angry mob. Human justice, whether in the hands of Pilate, Herod, or the Sanhedrin, fails Him utterly. Jesus stands silent before men who twist their authority, and in doing so, He knows intimately the depths of injustice that can plague our world. For anyone who has suffered from unfair treatment, false accusation, or a corrupt system, this moment in Jesus’ life reveals a Savior who has felt the same.

Despite the failings of human justice, Jesus’ response shows us a vital lesson: He didn’t place His hope in these earthly systems, and neither should we. Instead, He entrusted Himself to God, the ultimate Judge, who sees all things rightly and promises perfect justice. Jesus knew the Father’s justice was a surer foundation than any human court, and so He endured the trials set before Him, holding fast to the knowledge that God’s justice would ultimately prevail.

When we face injustice, it’s tempting to pin our hopes on human institutions, to believe that with enough advocacy, attention, or influence, things will be set right. But while we work to seek justice where we can, we’re reminded that ultimate justice belongs to God alone. Human systems, as important as they may be, will always have flaws and limitations. They are imperfect reflections of the justice that only God Himself can deliver.

In our lives, the challenge is to trust that God sees and knows our situation fully, even when justice seems delayed. Psalm 89:14 tells us, “Righteousness and justice are the foundation of Your throne; steadfast love and faithfulness go before You.” This assurance means that no wrong will go unaddressed in God’s time and plan. He is the Judge who will not let evil win, who hears every cry, and who will make all things right. Until then, we are called to follow Jesus’ example, trusting God in our own experiences of injustice, keeping our eyes on the One whose justice is flawless.

Zeal Gone Awry

The trial of Jesus before the Sanhedrin is one of the most tragic displays of religious zeal gone wrong. Convinced of their duty to protect God’s honor, the religious leaders allowed their passions and mob mentality to override justice, mercy, and reason. What should have been a trial became a forum for slander, manipulation, and violence, with many of the leaders and bystanders becoming part of a vicious cycle. Jesus, the very person they were supposed to recognize as the Messiah, was instead labeled a blasphemer and beaten in their outrage.

We all have passions and causes we care deeply about. In fact, a righteous zeal can be powerful when we’re moved by a godly cause. But zeal without humility and discernment can lead us to the same dangers faced by the Sanhedrin. Their unwavering conviction left no room for compassion or introspection. How often do we see, even in ourselves, that good intentions and passionate defense of our beliefs can devolve into defensiveness, anger, or even cruelty when we feel challenged?

The actions of the Sanhedrin remind us to remain humble, recognizing that zeal for truth or righteousness must be tempered with God’s Spirit. Jesus taught us to turn the other cheek, to walk with humility, and to love even our enemies. When we lose sight of these teachings, our own zeal can go awry, blinding us to the heart of God’s message and turning us into people we would later be ashamed to recognize.

We’re called to balance conviction with compassion, courage with humility, and action with prayer. May we be passionate for God’s kingdom and its values, but may we also be vigilant, that we never sacrifice our character in the process. When our hearts are governed by the love of Christ, we can stand firm in the truth without losing our way to the passions that seek to rule us.

In Defense of Peter

The account of Peter in Gethsemane is a stirring reminder of how human we are, even when we deeply desire to follow Jesus. Peter, who had walked with Christ, witnessed miracles, and even claimed he would follow Him to the death, shows us that the spirit is indeed willing, but the flesh is weak (Matthew 26:41). We might critique Peter for his actions that night—falling asleep, impulsively wielding a sword, and then ultimately denying Jesus—but perhaps, his story is also ours. In Peter, we find relatable lessons that urge us toward deeper discipline, patience, and boldness in our faith.

At Gethsemane, Jesus invited Peter, James, and John to keep watch with Him during His agonizing prayer. But Peter’s spirit gave way to fatigue, and three times he fell asleep as Jesus wrestled with the reality of the cross. In these moments, we see a call to better discipline. Just as Peter needed discipline to stay awake and pray, we, too, are called to “watch and pray” that we do not fall into temptation. Distractions and weariness can easily pull us away from prayer and obedience, but discipline helps us continually seek God’s strength, especially in trying times.

Next, we see Peter’s struggle with patience. When the soldiers arrived to arrest Jesus, Peter acted instinctively, drawing his sword to protect his Lord. He acted out of zeal, but it wasn’t what Jesus had asked of him. Jesus had already made it clear that He must go to the cross, yet Peter acted on impulse, unwilling to wait for the Lord’s guidance. Here, we learn the importance of waiting on God, resisting the urge to take matters into our own hands. Jesus often leads us through unexpected paths, and patience allows us to stay in step with His timing, trusting that He has a purpose beyond what we can see.

Finally, after Jesus was arrested, Peter’s courage seemed to fade. Standing by the fire, surrounded by strangers, Peter denied knowing Jesus—not once, but three times. His boldness faltered when it was most needed. It is easy to judge Peter’s fear, but it’s also a moment to recognize our own hesitations to fully identify with Jesus. True boldness means openly claiming our faith, even when it feels risky. We may face fear, awkwardness, or discomfort, but Jesus is our strength. Through Him, we find the courage to stand firm, even when the stakes are high.

Peter’s journey in Gethsemane reminds us that Jesus isn’t looking for flawless followers—He seeks willing hearts. Yes, we may stumble as Peter did, but God’s grace meets us in our weakness. As we grow in discipline, patience, and boldness, we find that Jesus is always there, shaping us into people who are prepared to follow Him, even when it’s hard. Let’s remember that Jesus restored Peter after his denials and used him to build the Church. In the same way, He is patient with us, guiding us into lives that glorify Him, no matter how many times we fall.  

On Prayer: A Theological Treatise

Prayer is often seen as a lifeline, a means to reach out and align with God’s will. In John 17, we glimpse Jesus’ profound final prayer before His arrest, echoing themes that shape how we might deepen our own prayer lives. This passage brings forth reflections on God’s glory, unity among believers, and the ultimate purpose of prayer—seeking the Father’s will in the world. In John 17, we see a natural extension of the foundational principles Jesus taught in the “Lord’s Prayer,” also called the “Our Father,” which provides a template of humility, submission, and reverence. Comparing these two prayers enriches our understanding of Jesus’ theology of prayer, offering profound insights into why and how we, too, should pray.

Glorifying the Father: The Prayer’s Foundation

Both the “Our Father” and John 17 focus immediately on glorifying God. Jesus starts by acknowledging the Father’s glory, teaching us that prayer’s essence is rooted in elevating God’s character, authority, and holiness. The “Our Father” opens with “hallowed be Thy name,” directing the focus away from self and toward God’s sanctity. John 17 expands on this, with Jesus asking, “Father, the hour has come; glorify Your Son, that the Son may glorify You” (John 17:1). Here, Jesus models that glorification of the Father is inseparable from the life of obedience and humility. He shows us that through prayer, we align our desires with God’s purposes, leading to His glory as the ultimate goal.

In this light, we are reminded that effective prayer is less about what we want and more about what God desires. Jesus frames prayer as a means of drawing into God’s redemptive work, illustrating that glorifying God is not only a matter of words but also of aligning our lives with His purposes.

“Thy Kingdom Come”: Unity in Purpose and Fellowship

In the “Our Father,” Jesus teaches us to ask, “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” This phrase invites believers to submit to God’s authority in every realm. John 17 further illuminates this concept as Jesus prays for unity, asking the Father to protect His followers and make them one as He and the Father are one (John 17:21). This unity is central to God’s kingdom vision—a community living under His reign, reflecting His love and holiness to the world.

Unity, as Jesus prayed for in John 17, isn’t merely harmonious living; it’s the fruit of shared allegiance to the Father’s purposes. He calls believers to unite not in conformity but in shared pursuit of divine will, realizing His kingdom in tangible ways. Unity and alignment with God’s kingdom are keys to effective prayer, fostering a perspective that prays not solely for personal desires but for the advancement of God’s purposes through the Church.

“Deliver Us from Evil”: The World and Sanctification

Jesus’ prayer also addresses protection and sanctification. In the “Our Father,” He asks the Father to “deliver us from evil,” a request mirrored in John 17 as Jesus asks, “I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one” (John 17:15). This reveals a key theological stance: our lives are intended to intersect with the world, yet remain distinct from its influence. Jesus doesn’t call for withdrawal from worldly challenges but for perseverance within them, under God’s guidance.

This is a powerful call to engage the world while remaining consecrated to God’s service, highlighting prayer’s role in equipping us to remain faithful amid spiritual challenges. Sanctification, therefore, is not about isolation but about intentional living that embodies God’s truth. Prayer is both our line of defense and our sanctifying strength, rooting us in God’s purposes as we live among those who may oppose our faith.

The Purpose of Prayer: Alignment with God’s Heart

Both prayers embody one overarching purpose: to align us with God’s will, deepening our relationship with Him. The “Our Father” provides the structure, and John 17 provides the heart. As Jesus intercedes for His disciples, He shows that prayer is a means of transformation and connection, rather than simply a way to fulfill personal desires. Prayer shapes our hearts, aligning them with God’s, enabling us to desire His kingdom more deeply than our ambitions.

In closing, the purpose of prayer is not merely the action of requesting but the transformation that occurs as we enter God’s presence and submit to His purposes. It is in this ongoing relationship that our prayers become part of God’s work in the world, uniting us with His mission and character.

Pray, then, as Jesus did—not only to seek answers but to align your heart with the Father’s will, glorify His name, and live in His sanctifying presence. And as we pray, we come closer to fulfilling the Lord’s ultimate vision for His kingdom, empowered by a relationship that seeks Him above all else.

Humble, Not Hero

In Luke 22, Peter boldly declares that he’s ready to go to prison and even die for Jesus. It’s a passionate commitment, one that shows his desire to be faithful no matter what. But Jesus, in His wisdom, responds with words that pierce through Peter’s confidence: “I tell you, Peter, before the rooster crows today, you will deny three times that you know me.” Peter is certain of his loyalty, yet Jesus knows what’s coming.

How often do we, in a burst of conviction, declare all we will do for God? Like Peter, we can find ourselves wrapped up in a fervor that makes us feel invincible. Yet, there’s a powerful truth here: God doesn’t need our grand statements of loyalty; He wants our surrendered hearts. Instead of telling Him how much we’re willing to do, maybe we should be asking where He wants us to go, allowing Him to direct our steps.

In those moments when we’re tempted to make big promises to God, perhaps it’s more humble and honoring to pause, listen, and ask Him to use us however He sees fit. This doesn’t mean avoiding bold steps of faith. It simply means approaching our relationship with God from a posture of humility, acknowledging that He knows our limits and, just as He did for Peter, offers grace when we fall short.

Jesus intercedes for us, even now, knowing our frailties and loving us through them. He calls us not to be heroes in our own strength but to be faithful followers, trusting that He will work through our willing hearts. When we let go of the need to prove our devotion and embrace a quiet openness to God’s leading, we’re finally in a position to let His strength shine in our weakness.

Clean, But Not Clean Enough

In John 13, Jesus took a basin and towel to wash the disciples’ feet, a humbling act of service that challenged their understanding of cleanliness and purity. When Peter hesitated, Jesus gently reminded him that, while he was already “clean,” his feet still needed washing. Jesus wasn’t just talking about physical cleanliness—He was highlighting a truth about our walk of faith.

We’ve been made clean by Jesus’ sacrifice, accepted into His family, and freed from the power of sin. But like Peter and the disciples, we still walk through a world filled with brokenness, and inevitably, some of that dust clings to us. We may not need a full cleansing again, but we do need to keep coming to Jesus to have our feet washed. This humility of daily “cleansing” reminds us that our need for Jesus never goes away.

While we aim to live lives that honor God, we’re reminded that our strength doesn’t come from our own perfection. Instead, it comes from returning again and again to the One who washes us. He renews us, helping us release whatever shame, bitterness, or pride we may pick up as we move through life. Jesus’ love and grace restore us, grounding us in a peace that surpasses understanding.

So, as we walk forward today, let’s remember this beautiful invitation to come back to Jesus, knowing He is faithful to cleanse us. We’re already made new, yet in our ongoing journey, we need His touch each day. May we walk humbly, seeking His grace, and trusting that He never grows tired of washing our feet.

My Will Be Done, or Thy Will Be Done?

In John 12:37-50, we find Jesus quoting Isaiah 6:10, a passage where God says He will “blind their eyes and harden their hearts” so that they will not understand or turn to Him. On first glance, it sounds as though God is actively working to prevent people from believing. But as we dig deeper, a richer perspective emerges—one where human freedom and God’s sovereign plan are in a perfect, if mysterious, harmony.

I firmly believe all things happen under God’s design, but this doesn’t mean God coerces every choice or action. Instead, God knows every possible outcome—all the ways a free creature might respond in any given circumstance. He orchestrates the world in such a way that His purposes are fulfilled, but human choices are genuinely free. This view helps us understand Jesus’ reference to Isaiah. The passage wasn’t about God “forcing” people to resist belief. Rather, it was about His awareness of their hearts and how His message would be received given their predispositions.

See, in Isaiah, the people’s blindness wasn’t manufactured by God; it was the result of a longstanding resistance to His message. By the time Jesus was teaching, the religious leaders and many others had spent years ignoring God’s call to genuine worship and repentance. Jesus’ use of Isaiah’s words acknowledges that these people would continue to resist, not because God forced them to but because they chose to close their hearts. God’s sovereignty allowed Him to use even their resistance to further His plans.

We might think of it like this: God’s will is broad enough to encompass both the willing and the unwilling, the faithful and the resistant. When someone continually resists, God may allow them to experience the consequences of their choice, but that choice is theirs. It is this deep respect for freedom that underscores the entire message of Jesus in the Gospels. He offers salvation, but He doesn’t coerce it.

Jesus’ example shows us how divine sovereignty and human freedom work together. Every time we choose to follow Him, we participate in God’s grand design, bringing His purposes to fruition in the world. The key difference lies in whose will we are choosing to follow. Will it be our will, with all its limitations and potential missteps, or will it be His will, which is perfect and ultimately fulfilling?

The question, “My will be done, or Thy will be done?” is one we face every day. Like those who encountered Jesus, we each have the choice to turn toward God and align with His purposes, allowing Him to work through us. Though we’re free to choose otherwise, God’s invitation remains open—a gracious reminder that His will is always toward life, restoration, and purpose.