The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, “Look! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! He is the one I was talking about. John 1:29-30 [NLT]

The entire Old Testament asks the question, “Where is the lamb?” At the beginning of Jewish history, the people put lamb’s blood on the doorposts of their homes. They believed God’s promise that this blood sign would cause the death angel to pass them by. And it did.

At another pivotal point in history, Abraham was told to take Isaac up to the top of Mt. Moriah and sacrifice him. Isaac asked his father, ‘But where is the lamb?’ Abraham answered that God would provide one. He did then and He did, again, with the birth of the Messiah. It was the final Lamb who paid for sin, once, and for all.

The priests in the temple in Jerusalem sacrificed a lamb every morning and every night for centuries. For hundreds of years, God’s people brought lambs to the temple to sacrifice. Just one trip, or one lamb, would not suffice. They had to keep coming back year after year because no lamb could take away all their sin.

People were used to people providing lambs. The announcement from John that God’s Lamb was approaching was the most shocking thing they could hear. God would provide a Lamb? The best news of all was that this Lamb could take sins away forever. They wouldn’t just be covered over until the next sacrifice.

No wonder John must have been breathless. The question of the ages was being answered in the Person coming toward him. Jesus authenticated, in that moment, the Torah and the writings of the prophets. John’s audience had heard the stories. They knew the ache of waiting. They carried the long memory of lambs, blood, altars, and promise. But never could they have imagined that the Lamb sent by God would walk toward them in person. The Lamb had come. And His name was Jesus.

And to think that you went back to Your Father and sent back Your Spirit. You came personally, with power. Amazing, Jesus.

Right here in the crowd is someone you do not recognize. Though his ministry follows mine, I’m not even worthy to be his slave and untie the straps of his sandal.”  John 1:26-17 [NLT]

John said, ‘I’m not even worthy to be the Messiah’s slave.’  Unworthiness has so many faces.  Only one is righteous; the others are not.   Yet, for any of us who have suffered from toxic unworthiness, we can agree that it can feel like it might be a holy thing.  Satan loves that.  He wants us to mistake it for humility.

Isaac Watts wrote the words, ‘For such a worm as I, ‘ when he composed the hymn, AT THE CROSS.  Was he celebrating the glory of Christ or was he feeling an exaggerated sense of his own unworthiness?  The rest of the lyrics reveal that it was the first. 

Self-loathing is healed in the arms of Jesus.  His love melts all my resistance, and I can stop fighting and fully surrender.  I no longer have to brace myself for rejection from One who already knows my whole story. I throw open the door and let Him enter places that I’ve locked.  He does not humiliate me.  He tells the truth without cruelty.  He answers every ounce of shame with Calvary. 

This is the joy Satan hates. If he cannot keep me from Christ, he will try to keep me suspicious of His affection. He will make conviction feel like condemnation. I’ll never get my head out of the dirt.  But my unworthiness is not the final word about me because I’m joined to the One who is worthy. 

When John said he was not worthy to untie the sandals of Jesus, he was not trapped in shame. He was free. Free from self-importance. Free from spiritual competition. Free to be small because Christ was so magnificent.  Holy unworthiness bows, then rejoices. Toxic unworthiness bows, then refuses to get up.

Jesus, let my smallness become worship, not bondage.  Amen

This was John’s testimony when the Jewish leaders sent priests and Temple assistants from Jerusalem to ask John, “Who are you?” He came right out and said, “I am not the Messiah.” John 1:19-20 [NLT]

John had become impossible to ignore. Crowds were leaving the city to find him. They came curious but ended up hearing the message of repentance. Many responded and were baptized. Crowds also came because heaven had been quiet for centuries, and suddenly John’s voice was broke the silence.

Word of John’s flourishing ministry reached the religious leaders in Jerusalem.  Reports circulated.  A man of influence was leading a movement. People were repenting. Spiritual momentum was building outside of their control.  Concerned, Jewish leaders sent priests and Levites to investigate.

“Who are you?” they asked John. John seemed to hear the question ‘beneath the question’. Are you Elijah? Are you the Prophet? Are you the One? He answered with razor-sharp clarity. “I am not the Messiah.”

He knew who he was, and he knew who he was not. Even so, he could have impressed them by telling a bit of his story ~ the visitation of the angel to his father, the miracle of his conception, the prophetic song sung over him as an infant, even the divine assignment placed upon his life before birth. All that was true. But John knew that even true things spoken at the wrong time can become dangerous if they make us the center of attention.

A divine calling can be dangerous when there’s an insatiable need to be on display. But John had been refined by the wilderness. He would not allow popularity to lead to misdirected worship. He would not stand in the light meant for Another.

There is a world of humility in the words “I am not.” I am not the Christ. I am not the Light. I am not the Word. I am a voice.

Notoriety can become a drug. I can begin wanting people to see my calling, my depth, my suffering, and my story. But John teaches me to lay my giftedness down at the feet of Jesus. I may be a teacher, helper, comforter, writer, singer, and wounded healer, but I am still only a jar of clay. I am not divine. 

Let me disappear without second thought wherever Your face can shine more brilliantly through me. Amen

For the law was given through Moses, but God’s unfailing love and faithfulness came through Jesus Christ. John 1:17 [NLT]

In Israel’s history, God revealed Himself to a people group, the Hebrews, and sent messages through Moses. His Word was not personalized to each of them, except for the patriarchs and few other exceptions. Yet He showed His love by delivering them from the oppressor, then leading them out on a journey to the promised land. Along the way, He brought them the Law, which was a protocol for holiness. It wasn’t given to make them feel better about themselves, or to even make them feel closer to God, but to cause them to see how far short they fell from God’s perfection.

Protocols, even from a God who delivers you, doesn’t feel very loving. Nor does it feel very personal. At best, they knew God loved them as they experienced His care through acts of protection from their enemies and guidance for their journey via the cloud and the pillar of fire.

All of that changed when God sent His Son, not to condemn through the law but to fulfill it. Love messages would not be written on tablets of stone but on the hearts of men and women, one at a time. Jesus would be experienced personally. Relationships with him could be nurtured and deepened. And once the Holy Spirit came at Pentecost, that relationship became even more intimate as there was a palpable internal dwelling of the Spirit of God.

So why would I ever prefer a protocol to a personal experience? Or a culture of good conduct instead to a friendship with God? The first forms a religion, the second comprises a love story.

You still draw me with cords of love. Thank you. Amen

John testified about him when he shouted to the crowds, “This is the one I was talking about when I said, ‘Someone is coming after me who is far greater than I am, for he existed long before me.’”   John 1:15 [NLT]

John the Baptist was born many months before Jesus came into the world.  Elizabeth, John’s mother, was pregnant first and was well into her pregnancy when Mary conceived through the overshadowing of the Holy Spirit.  And yet, John told the crowds that Jesus existed before he did.  He was not talking about birth dates.  He was reaching beyond calendars and beyond wombs, pointing to the mystery of the eternal Word made flesh.

I believe they could tell that John was referencing something otherworldly by the breathless, passionate tone in his voice.  I’m aware that nowhere in this passage does it say that John was breathless.  But imagine with me how John might have delivered this news, struggling to comprehend and communicate the eternal storyline of Jesus.  How could he possibly be nonchalant!  

Later, along the same theme, John will tell another crowd that ‘Jesus must increase while he must decrease.’ This would be humility with fire in it. John was not a weak man trying to disappear. He was a strong man who knew exactly who he was and who he was not. He had crowds following him. He had disciples. He had a prophetic voice that shook the wilderness.  He could have built a kingdom around his own calling.

But John’s greatness was defined by his willingness to bring everyone to Jesus.  His joy was not in being followed, but in pointing to the Messiah. He was the lamp, not the Light, the voice but not the Word. 

Jesus, let me decrease, not into nothingness, but into worship. Amen

He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness.  And we have seen His glory…full of grace and truth.  John 1:14

The better we get to know someone, the more their true self comes into view.  Just ask newlyweds who are discovering that the honeymoon is over as their two carnal natures collide.  What was charming in courtship can become irritating in marriage. What was hidden by distance is exposed by proximity. Over time, character is revealed not by candlelight but in the kitchen.

John knew Jesus this way.  He did not admire Him from a distance. He ate with Him, slept near Him, watched Him face day after day of needs pressing in from every side. For three years, John saw Jesus exhausted, hungry, interrupted, criticized, in danger, disappointed, and grieving. He saw Jesus under stress. He saw Him misunderstood. He saw Him falsely accused. He saw Him surrounded by crowds who wanted miracles more than they wanted Him.

And what did John discover? Not a flaw. Not one moment when holiness thinned under pressure.

Human intimacy can be sobering. Much needs to be forgiven. With Jesus, intimacy reveals what must be worshiped. John drew close to Jesus and found no shadows waiting there. There was no selfishness beneath the Savior’s kindness. There was no private contradictions behind His public persona. He was always the same ~ full of grace and truth.

Lord Jesus, lead me beyond the places in me that still retreat from love, and bring me into the safety of Your perfection. Amen

They are reborn—not with a physical birth resulting from human passion or plan, but a birth that comes from God. Joh 1:13 [NLT]

The reasons people have children are not always pure. Some children are born from a beautiful love story. Others arrive as surprises. Still others are conceived beneath the weight of unmet longings, broken marriages, hidden agendas, or a parent’s hope to fill an ache no child was meant to carry.

But not so with God. His passion is pure. His planning is holy. His love for those He creates begins before conception, before there is breath, before a name is ever chosen. His purposes are not fragile. His affection does not depend on our performance. His plans are not destroyed by our sin.

Our first birth was not a mistake. God fashioned each of us in our mother’s womb. However flawed the circumstances around our beginning may have been, the Author of life was not absent. He does all things well, and there is no shame in being alive. Our existence is not something to apologize for. It is something to revere.

Our second birth was not a mistake either. By the Word, through the Spirit, God gave us life again. We were born once by His creative will and are born again by His unfathomable mercy.

You and I were loved before we knew Him.
We are loved now.
He had plans for us before we ever embraced them.
He has plans for us still.

Flawed humanity may have shaped our early years, but a holy God began the re-parenting of our souls at the new birth. We are in safe hands. He is not careless. He is not confused. He is perfect, and we are secure.

Lord, for every one who is holding their breath in uncertainty, draw near and teach them how to exhale. Amen

But to all who believed him and accepted him, he gave the right to become children of God. John 1:12 [NLT]

The Gospel is simple enough for a child to grasp. I know. I heard it preached in an evangelistic crusade when I was seven years old. I was glued to the speaker and transfixed. I could hardly breathe. I remember the knot in my stomach when I heard that there was a great gulf space between God and me. I also remember the ache in my heart when I realized that my sin was the reason for it. I knew that I’d do anything to end the separation between us.

For several years prior, since I was three, I had experienced the strong presence of Jesus. He was near when I sat at the piano, closed my eyes and tried to play the music I heard in my soul. So strong was His presence that I fell in love with Him.

Many benefits are shared with people when they are encouraged to accept Christ. You know them. 1.) You can have a changed life. 2.) You can have your sins forgiven and your guilt removed. 3.) You can escape the fires of hell and know, for certain, that heaven will be your home. 4.) You can be adopted by God and delivered from the captivity of the enemy.

All of these are true. But, to me, the only reason that really matters is that you can draw near to God and live life with Him. No more distance. No more longing. No more looking for the treasure. He is the treasure and, through repentance, He becomes my Treasure. My adoption papers prove new parentage. God is my Father. Jesus is my Savior and Friend. And, the Holy Spirit is my Counselor. They are active, faithful, and will take me all the way home.

You drew me to You so long ago. And the wonder of Your nearness has never left. Amen

The one who is the true light, who gives light to everyone, was coming into the world.
John 1:9 [NLT]

At creation, when darkness and chaos ruled the earth, the Word said, ‘Let there be light.’ Immediately, light brought order out of disorder.

It’s tough to be in a desperate situation that lacks clarity. I was there less than a week ago.  I felt like I was in a dark fog.  I asked God for understanding, and I didn’t have to wait too long before light began to permeate my dark landscape. He illumined what had been shadowed, and I started to enjoy clearer vision. He put a magnifying glass over the twisted strands of thread, and all of a sudden, I could see the steps I needed to take to untangle what was knotted.  

How about you?  Yesterday, perhaps you felt lost. Today, you discovered God’s plan. Yesterday, you grasped at spiritual straws. Today, some puzzle pieces have clicked into place. Yesterday, you had faith but no vision. Today, your prayers have precision, and you can see Jesus’ footprints before you.

Right now, the Light of the world is affecting other people’s dark landscapes. He’s curing spiritual blindness and allowing an unbeliever to see the glory of Jesus. He’s lighting up a concept that correctly diagnoses what has held another captive. For a Bible teacher, He’s enlightening a passage and imparting spiritual understanding. For a mother on her knees, He is unveiling the spiritual condition of her child so that she can apply spiritual cures. For a business owner sitting alone at his desk, overwhelmed, God is revealing the reasons for the discord within his company and leading him to replace worldly business strategies with kingdom principles.

Light is a life-saving thing, is it not? When God gives it, confusion loses its throne, and darkness is forced to yield. The Light of the world does not merely brighten a room; He exposes, heals, guides, and resurrects what was buried in shadows. 

Oh, Light of the world, You entered my darkness with authority and mercy.  Thank you!  Amen