There was a man named Nicodemus, a Jewish religious leader who was a Pharisee. After dark one evening, he came to speak with Jesus.  John 3:1-2 NLT

Nicodemus was a ruler of the Jews, a notable person, the equivalent of one of our supreme court justices. He came to speak with Jesus but here’s the thing. Jesus felt no pressure. He didn’t sit up straighter because of who it was that paid him a visit. He didn’t try to elevate His illustrations to impress. He went the other direction. He spoke of spiritually infantile things, the stuff of wombs and being born again.

It’s the middle of the night and while pondering all of this on my bed, a vision came to me. I was half-awake. I was in a gladiator arena. I was the lone believer in the center, about to become a meal for the lions who were being released at any moment. The roar of the crowd was out of my radar. It didn’t matter to me if there were ten people in the stands or several hundred thousand. My focus was the faith test in front of me and how I would face the large cats. They would see me as prey; I would see them as predators.

Then, the Spirit of God spoke to me. “In the kingdom, they will not consume you. They will dwell with you as companions for your enjoyment.” And so, I stood and awaited their arrival. They circled me and I began to turn and look at each of them. I marveled at their power, the beauty of their features, all given to them by Creator God. I asked if I could pet them. I approached the first, petted the top of his head, and scratched him behind his ears. His eyes closed and I began to hear him purr. I was in the kingdom and context had been transformed. I was not their meal; I was their friend. The audience were spectators of the power and glory of God.

God promises to tame the lions. We can exist in Babylon but not be consumed. The need to perform, to be accepted, to excel, to impress, to compete and win, will no longer be lions of prey. Nicodemus may grace our stage but so will the nameless widow who brought her mite to the temple. King Saul may summon us to calm oppressive spirits but so will the notorious demoniac who lives among the tombs. None of these, famous or infamous, will need a statesman. They will need a Savior and we will be the beggars who bring them to the One who saves.

Lord, I hear it again ~ your great commission. I will travel lighter, trading in my heavy robes for a simple tunic. I’m laying aside such weights and temptations. Amen

Jesus didn’t trust them, because he knew all about people. No one needed to tell him about human nature, for he knew what was in each person’s heart.  John 2:24-25

Jesus knows the human heart—how deeply it can love and how easily it can fail. He never asks me to stop needing people. He created me for relationship, for the giving and receiving of love. But He also knows that no human being can carry the full weight of my heart. What others cannot give, Christ does not leave empty. He has given me His Spirit to fill me and live through me.
Perhaps you know the ache of loving someone who does not yet love you well. You’ve been honest, shared your needs, and waited for them to come through. But loving you in the ways you need would require something costly of them like growth, courage, surrender to God, and perhaps they are unwilling or unable to go there. Disillusionment settles in when I see the distance between what I hoped someone would give and what they are actually capable of giving. In proportion to the need, the love they sometimes offer feels like crumbs.
  
This is fertile ground for the enemy. He points relentlessly to what is missing until deprivation fills my range of vision. But Scripture takes me somewhere deeper. Paul prays that I would be “rooted and grounded in love.” Roots live underground, drawing life from a source no one can even see. My ability to love should not rise and fall according to how well others love me. I am to sink itself into the inexhaustible love of God.

Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong.  Ephesians 3:17

This is the freedom I want. Not to need people less, but to need them without making them my savior. Not to become invulnerable, but to remain tender without placing my heart entirely in another person’s hands. When I know I am already held, I can receive human love as gift rather than demand it as proof that I am safe.

Lord Jesus, root me so deeply in Your love that others’ limitations cannot convince me that I am unloved. Amen

But the Jewish leaders demanded, “What are you doing? If God gave you authority to do this, show us a miraculous sign to prove it.” “All right,” Jesus replied. “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”  John 2:18-19

Jesus overturns the crooked commerce of the Temple, and chaos erupts around Him. Coins scatter. Tables fall. The innocent watch in alarm while the guilty feel their anger rising. The religious leaders confront Him. “What sign can you show us to prove your authority to do all this?”

The verb tense is in the present. “What  are  you doing?” Jesus answers from the future. “Destroy this temple and I will raise it up.” 
 
They demand an explanation for what they can see, but Jesus points to something they cannot yet understand. His authority will ultimately be revealed through His death and resurrection. They want proof now. Jesus gives them a promise instead.
  
I know this tension. Do you? I ask God questions from inside the moment I am living. What are You doing? Why are You allowing this? Where are You in it? Pain makes my present feel like the whole story has been written. Chaos looks like it has the last word when I cannot yet see redemption. But so much of faith is lived between what is and what God says will be.

God’s promises are written in future tense because much of His faithfulness can only be understood looking backward. Trusting God does not mean I stop asking why. It means my questions change posture. I can weep and still praise. I can ache without accusing. I can say, “I do not understand You,” while still believing that God is good.

Why Lord?” always has an answer. As a beloved child of God, my greatest hopes and dreams lie in future tenses

Teach me to live faithfully inside the unfinished sentence, trusting that what I cannot yet see is already held within Your resurrection purposes. Amen

It was nearly time for the Jewish Passover celebration, so Jesus went to Jerusalem.  In the Temple area he saw merchants selling cattle, sheep, and doves for sacrifices; he also saw dealers at tables exchanging foreign money. Jesus made a whip from some ropes and chased them all out of the Temple. John 2:13-15 [NLT]

Each of us have things that are almost sacred to us. We display them on a wall, under glass, or in a shadow box. If it’s a commendation or award, we laminate it or frame it. We put important papers in a folder and wouldn’t think of folding them in half, lest we crease them. And then there are the preservation methods of saving love letters. We fasten them with a ribbon and tuck them away somewhere safe. We handle them gently because they carry more than material value.

My mother, the year before she died of cancer, made a quilt for Ron and for me. There was no sewing machine involved. Every inch of it was hand stitched. I often told her that it looked like she used a machine – so precise were her hem stitches. About ten years ago, I took it out of my cedar chest to discover that there were rips along the corners of more than a few patchwork squares. Years of tugging at it during the night had taken its toll. Grief was in my throat. Out came my needle and thread to mend what had torn.

If something like this could evoke such emotion, what did Jesus feel when He entered His Father’s house and saw its holiness being violated? This was the temple where His Father’s glory dwelt. This was the place where atonement was made for sin. This was the place where the rich and the poor alike could bring their sacrifices and seek God’s mercy. But on this day, everything holy got trampled on. The business of the day was about extorting people, making profits from the everyday Jew who had traveled long distances.

But even more importantly, if the priests were crooked, the ones who represented God’s likeness, then God would be considered crooked as well. Those wounded by religion may come to believe that God Himself is hard, exploitative, or unsafe. God still gets angry when His people are misled. For this, Jesus made whips and disrupted commerce. Jesus would not stand quietly while His Father was slandered in His own house.

Woe to the shepherds who cause the sheep to stumble over the God who loves them.

Even Your anger clears a path for sinners to come home. You burn against those who keep the wounded from knowing Your Father’s heart. Amen

This miraculous sign at Cana in Galilee was the first time Jesus revealed his glory. And his disciples believed in him.  After the wedding he went to Capernaum for a few days with his mother, his brothers, and his disciples. John 2:11-12 NLT

Before Cana, those closest to Jesus had known Him within the boundaries of ordinary life. He was Mary’s son, the brother in the house, the new rabbi whom people had begun to follow. Then He turned the water into wine. Jesus was not simply rescuing the hosts of the wedding from humiliation, He was finally revealing who He was. After this event, no relationship will stay the same.

Mary saw her Son turn 180 gallons of water into wine.  She knew He could do it.  But knowing someone can do something and seeing them do it are two different things.  Mary had carried the mystery of Jesus for years. She had heard Gabriel’s words, felt the unborn Christ within her, and treasured prophecies too vast to understand. But after Cana, how will a mother return home after seeing His first miracle? Jesus was still her son, but her love for Him would have to make room for worship.

The siblings of Jesus experienced His sinlessness throughout their childhood.  Holiness caused friction.  As toddlers, they felt it, as Jesus was praised for His obedience. As teenagers, they felt it, as the sparks that His perfection caused intensified greatly. Whether they felt convicted, or jealous, His presence was polarizing.  When Jesus went back to Capernaum after His first miracle, fame accompanied Him.  The One the brothers had known all their lives was becoming impossible to explain.

The disciples were changed because of the miracle.  They were stunned by what had happened but they were only in the honeymoon stage of their relationship with Jesus. Their worship was immature.  They hadn’t been in a boat with Jesus during the worst storm of their career only to wonder why He wasn’t doing anything.  They hadn’t seen Him arrested yet, only to fight the disillusionment that broken dreams bring.  

The miracle of Cana changed the dynamics in relationships.  A glorious revelation, while beautiful, is rarely uncomplicated.

Lord Jesus, to live as one stunned by Your glory, bathe me with grace for the after affects.  Teach me to love You when wonder becomes costly. Amen

Standing nearby were six stone water jars, used for Jewish ceremonial washing. Each could hold twenty to thirty gallons. Jesus told the servants, “Fill the jars with water.” When the jars had been filled, he said, “Now dip some out, and take it to the master of ceremonies.” So the servants followed his instructions.  John 2:6-8. NLT

A wedding celebration was underway when the wine ran out. In a culture shaped by honor and shame, this was more than an inconvenience. The joy of the bridegroom’s household was about to be swallowed by public humiliation. And Jesus cared. Before He healed the sick, fed the hungry, or raised the dead, He responded to the distress of a family. No human need is too small for Him to car. In the details of daily life, where joy is fragile, families carry burdens no one else can see.

Jesus performed a miracle for the hosts, for the bride and groom, and it involved using six stone water jars that stood nearby.  Each held thirty gallons of water that were used exclusively for ceremonial washing.  But that was not their purpose that day.  At Jesus’ command, the servants filled them to the brim. Then, somewhere between the filling and the pouring, water became wine. Not merely enough wine, but an astonishing abundance. Six jars, holding thirty gallons each, produced approximately a thousand pitchers of wine. The miracle showcased the unmistakable extravagance of God.

This was the first time, publicly, that He messed with Jewish traditions.  He took vessels set apart for holy things and used them for something else.  In the next three years, He would turn ceremonial laws upside down.  He would stretch Jewish leaders to the max when He chose to work on the Sabbath or when He introduced talk about the heart being more important than rule-keeping. 

Years later at Pentecost, the crowd believed Jesus’ disciples to be drunk with wine when the Holy Spirit descended upon them.  This ‘running over the Spirit’ still happens as I pray for God to make me a new wineskin, flexible to hold the full outpouring of His Spirit.  

Lord Jesus, Fill me to the brim, then pour my life out for Your glory. Amen

The next day there was a wedding celebration in the village of Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there, and Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the celebration. The wine supply ran out during the festivities, so Jesus’ mother told him, “They have no more wine.” “Dear woman, that’s not our problem,” Jesus replied. “My time has not yet come.” but his mother told the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” John 2:1-5 [NLT]

Jesus gently rebuked His mother. What had she done? Mary’s suggestion to her son didn’t feel self-serving. The rebuke couldn’t have felt very good if you put yourself in Mary’s place. It’s taken some years for me to begin to understand why it happened. The clues come from other places in the Gospel where Jesus addressed members of His family in ways that probably wounded their pride.

In this particular public setting, Mary presumed upon Jesus’ divinity at the wedding feast but Jesus exalted his sonship to His Father in heaven above his sonship to his mother.  He had a radical allegiance to God’s will above his mother’s will.  Jesus worked against Mary’s assumption that perhaps she had an inside track.  He made it clear that no physical relationship on earth would control him.  His mother would have no special advantage to guide his ministry.  Water being turned to wine would not be at a mother’s bidding. As the story unfolds, we’ll see that Jesus turns to His Father for permission.

I recall the time in Luke 11 that a woman in the crowd raised her voice and said to Jesus.  ‘Blessed is the womb that bore you and the breasts at which you nursed!’  But He replied, ‘Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it!’

Jesus said later on in Luke, ‘If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters—yes, even his own life—he cannot be my disciple.’  Luke 14:26  ‘Hate’ in this context means preference; deferring to the One who takes priority.  As adults, we are to leave the ways of our parents if what they expect of us conflicts with the ways of our Father in heaven. When we struggle with the tension it brings in relationships, we are comforted that Jesus knew what was like and He walked this out before we did.

There was a time when the Holy Spirit addressed me about the ways I caved to certain family members’ whims and suggestions. It was easier to give in than face the tension. I sensed Him saying, “Christine, don’t do that anymore. Tell them you need to talk to me about it.” It did rattle the relationship but I look back and I’m amazed at the courage and grace that was supernaturally made available to me.

For every one who has to say no to family today for righteous reasons, let them feel the warmth of Your favor. Amen

““How do you know about me?” Nathanael asked. Jesus replied, “I could see you under the fig tree before Philip found you.” Then Nathanael exclaimed, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God—the King of Israel!” John 1:48-49 NLT

In every kind of love story, there is a moment of recognition where one soul sees into the soul of another and finds a place to rest and call home.  For many, like Nathaniel, it can be on the very first meeting.  A look, something that was said, the sound of someone’s voice, it feels familiar and there is a deep stirring. These moments are personal, uniquely crafted, and unexplainable to anyone else in the vacinity. 

Matthew was a tax collector.  While in the middle of a workday, sitting at a tax booth, he looked up to see Jesus stop in front of him.  The Master said, “Follow me!”  Matthew rose from the table and never looked back.  There was instant recognition somewhere deep inside. Something in him awakened. 

On another occasion, Jesus walked down a road and called up to a man in the tree.  He called this lone sheep by name.  Zacchaeus.  The surprised man, perched on a limb, responded instantly and took Jesus joyfully into his home. He lost all sense that he might eventually become the talk of the town.

On another day, Jesus went into Galilee to find a man named Philip.  The call was the same. “Follow me,” Jesus said.  And he did. Philip went to find Nathaniel who questioned him about the validity of any man coming out of Nazareth. But upon meeting Jesus for himself, that same moment of recognition occurred between the two men. Nathaniel’s spirit, quickened by Jesus’ words, came to life. Words of new faith came out like a torrent.

When my last breath is drawn on this earth and I open my eyes on the shores of heaven, the thing I look forward to most is hearing Jesus welcome me home – by name.  None will have said ‘Christine’ quite like him. How many times will He say to me, “Christine, I saw you when you were . . .”  All the times I wondered if I was alone will be healed in the presence of He who is faithful. 

Your voice can be heard in all the earth. It is also heard deep in my spirit. For the many who hear and recognize You as the One speaking, we are forever changed. Amen

“Nazareth!” exclaimed Nathanael. “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” “Come and see for yourself,” Philip replied.  As they approached, Jesus said, “Now here is a genuine son of Israel—a man of complete integrity.” “How do you know about me?” Nathanael asked. Jesus replied, “I could see you under the fig tree before Philip found you.” Then Nathanael exclaimed, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God—the King of Israel!” John 1:46-49 NLT

No one comes to love Jesus merely by borrowing another person’s encounter with Him. The stories of faith may awaken hunger. But eventually, every soul must meet Christ for itself. Philip knew that Nathaniel would only be convinced about the Messiah if he saw Him personally.  That’s why he urged, “Come and see.”

Grace had just upended Philip’s ordinary life. The long-awaited Messiah had found him, and nothing in the future would eclipse the memory. As Philip hurried to Nathanael, he must have wondered what would happen when the eyes of Jesus rested upon his friend. Soon, Nathanael’s assumptions would give way beneath him. He would discover that before he ever saw Jesus, Jesus had already seen him.

Are such defining encounters still possible for those who ask Christ to reveal Himself? Yes. There are moments that become mountaintops; encounters that become a Bethel. These are not limited to unbelievers seeking to be saved.  They are also for believers who have settled for monotony, who are trying to live on yesterday’s manna. We are to seek, listen, and pursue God relentlessly.  The glory of Jesus will surprise us again and again at unsuspecting times. An ordinary day will be turned upside down as the eternal penetrates the temporal.  God’s glory will fill our field of vision and Earth’s trinkets will not satisfy a heart that has glimpsed the beauty of God.

Others may not understand what happened. They may see nothing unusual about the day or the place. But we know that Christ drew near. Even in remembering, we tread softly. We’ll take our shoes off even as we remember it. We are left humbled by the mystery of being fully seen and yet deeply loved.

Words often fail us afterward. How can we explain the moment when Jesus became more real than everything around us? We cannot give another person our encounter, but we can point them toward the One who met us there.

We know it’s hard to capture it in words and tell someone else what happened.  That’s why we join Philip and the countless witnesses who have followed him. “Come and see.”

Come to the ones we’ve been praying for who haven’t seen You yet. Let them discover that while they are still searching for You, Your eyes are already upon them. Amen