And as Moses lifted up the bronze snake on a pole in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him will have eternal life. John 3:14-15 NLT
This is the Gospel. God is holy and must deal with our sin. God is also love and offers us mercy. To receive it, we must turn from our sin through repentance and look to Christ.
The last thing the Israelites wanted to do was to look at a snake, a brass likeness lifted high up on a pole. Seeing the snake reminded them of the curse God had brought upon them because of their grumbling. Only some were willing to look at it – and live. The rest chose to nurse their grudge against God for whatever reason or they felt God’s remedy was preposterous and refused to humble themselves. They chose death over life.
The last thing any of us want to do is look at the gruesome scene of a crucifixion, to someone lifted up high on a cross. Couldn’t there be some other extension of mercy than to have to look to Jesus, beaten and bruised, suffering unspeakable horrors? Anything else would be easier to take. Only some are willing to look to Him – and live. The rest choose to nurse their grudge against God for whatever reason or they feel God’s remedy of His only Son is preposterous and they refuse to humble themselves at the foot of the cross. They choose death over life.
This is ultimately a love story. Bitten by sin, we all face a death sentence. We are cursed. There is only one remedy and we don’t get to decide how we’ll be saved. But the One who does decide is a Savior who loves us ~ so much so that He was willing to take our curse upon Himself and die in our place. He was hung, high and lifted up, on a cross. Our curse was put on Him and He was despised, shamed, and rejected. Oh, but when we look to Him, consider and then repent of our sin, we live.
Jesus, sometimes the power of the story of the Gospel washes over my soul in a fresh way. This moment is one of them. Thank you. Always, you are high and lifted up. Amen
Humans can reproduce only human life, but the Holy Spirit gives birth to spiritual life. John 3:6 NLT
What did Jesus mean when He talked about flesh and spirit with respect to the new birth?
To be born physically, the union of a man and a woman are necessary. Coming from them, I resemble them. I have their DNA in my bones. I have my grandmother’s nose, my aunt’s musical ability, my father’s gentle spirit, my mother’s gift of compassion, and a combination of their gestures and facial movements. That’s why Jesus said, ‘That which is born of the flesh is flesh.’
To be born spiritually, there is also a birth by a parent. A new Father calls me His child. He touches my dead spirit and brings it to life. I’m given a new nature, His nature. I’m given undeserved righteousness, His righteousness. Begotten of God, I become like the One who gave me a spiritual birth. That’s why Jesus said, ‘That which is born of the Spirit is spirit.’
But, am I more like my earthly parents or my Heavenly Father? If I’ve been born again, my second birth is to trump the first. The second birth is to re-define my whole identity. It is meant to re-shape whatever has been disfigured by formation inside my human family. My perfect Father intends to re-parent me. He’s eager to fix what was broken and mature what was stunted. He blesses the righteous seeds of my parents while challenging the sinful legacies. That creates friction ~ both in me and in my family. Yet, this is what spiritual growth involves.
I can pray the sinner’s prayer, call myself a child of God, but never engage in a Father/daughter relationship. I do not experience His endearing ways. From lack of intimacy, I don’t become like the One who gave me spiritual life. I cling to the patterns, habits, and beliefs of my earthly family. My history normalized their dysfunction and it feels uncomfortable to step out of line. My family might not like it if I honor Jesus before them. I will potentially lose favor.
Yet, this is the call. I am to leave father and mother to follow God. ‘The family way of doing things’ is to no longer bind me if ‘the family way’ is out of step with the kingdom.
I don’t like not fitting in. I am uncomfortable with criticism, especially from family. Your likeness is what I seek so give me grace for whatever friction my follow. Amen
Jesus replied,“I tell you the truth, unless you are born again,you cannot see the Kingdom of God.” “What do you mean?” exclaimed Nicodemus. “How can an old man go back into his mother’s womb and be born again?” John 3:3-4 NLT
The kingdom-related things that take place between people and God are invisible. The new birth is invisible. The washing away of sins is invisible. The cleansing of our conscience is invisible. God is invisible. The Spirit is invisible. And Jesus, once visible, is invisible once again.
The new birth is no small thing. Whomever I am ‘born of’ determines who I am like. Children inherit the attributes of their parents. I was ‘of my father the devil’ until the new birth. I was in his clutches and, like him, my own flesh drove my decision making. Now, I could be on good behavior but it was only because it was self-serving. My heart was alive to sin and dead to God. This captivity was invisible.
But oh, there was a day when God said ‘let there be light’ to my own spiritual eyes. Jesus came into view (though invisible) and nothing has ever been the same. I was born of heaven and my entire nature changed. I was no longer like my father the devil. God touched my spirit and I was born of Him. My likeness was transformed to resemble my new Father. I had new spiritual DNA. (Invisible) Whenever there is birth, the one who gives birth bears pain. My birth into God’s kingdom cost me nothing. The pain was borne by Jesus.
What can be seen by physical eyes todays is least important. Real life happens behind the veil. God’s promises are at work in my life. Invisible. Jesus is praying for me. Invisible. I am being sanctified. Invisible. Jesus is preparing a home for me. Invisible. Every prayer I pray is being answered. Invisible.
My faith is in One unseen and in a kingdom yet unseen. Do kingdom things become visible in this life? Oh yes! We know that. We see people change, provisions appear, diseases healed, seasons perpetuate, and God is everywhere if we look for His fingerprints. In Sunday School a few days ago, our teacher mentioned an Elizabeth Barrett Browning quote.
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
It was 2009. My daughter, Jaime, had been asked to speak to a group of women several hundred miles away. I offered to go with her, to be her companion and to give prayer support, something she has done for me hundreds of times. She and I sat near the front and the program was about to start. Jaime was quiet, prayerfully reviewing her notes and getting her spiritual focus. At that moment, the committee chairman came and whispered something in my ear. She told me that some notable people with influence had arrived. Excited, I turned to tell Jaime the news. “Guess who is here!” I said. I began to tell her but Jaime held up her hand for me to stop. She said, with such sadness, “Mom, why do you bring me so great a temptation right before I speak?” An arrow of conviction pierced my soul. Now, she would feel the pressure to perform well. Now, she would be aware that her presentation was getting graded by a few people who came to be impressed. I had delivered all of these pressures to her on a silver platter. Later that day, I asked her to forgive me.
I’ve spent much of my life wrestling with Christian Babylon, the world I’ve come to know from a lifetime of engagement in American church ministry. It’s much about who hears you speak or sing. It’s about looking your best before taking the stage. It’s about having a sold-out concert or conference. It’s about the size of the church that invited you. It’s about dressing in a way where others know you’re the speaker or singer when you walk into the room. The rule of thumb is to be a little bit more dressed up than they are. Make a statement with your choice of clothing and accessories. All of this co-exists with the weight of wanting to magnify Jesus and reach people with the Gospel. Oh, motives are messy and nothing is altruistic.
Covid has been a course corrector. With so much time to reflect, I’ve re-evaluated everything. In the process, I’ve gone through my closet and donated almost all of my ‘speaking clothes and statement jewelry.’ I don’t have the stomach for it anymore. God has done this new thing. My new litmus test has become this ~ Would Corrie Ten Boom wear this to speak? It seems that in every picture, she looked the same. So in every way, I’ve simplified. I’ve cast off some weights that so easily beset me.
What does all of this have to do with Nicodemus and John 3? 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 extoled 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 asked him, “Do you believe this just because I told you I had seen you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than this.” Then he said, “I tell you the truth, you will all see heaven open and the angels of God going up and down on the Son of Man, the one who is the stairway between heaven and earth.” John 1:50-51 NLT
Our lives are fraught with challenges; earthly cares that rob our sleep and our peace. We pray for God to intervene. Sometimes He does and often, with quick and stunning results. He brings a single financial miracle, or a healing, or a breakthrough in a relationship. We are left to exclaim, “Wow, Lord! You can do that?”
This is the type of narrative between Nathaniel and Jesus. Nathaniel, earlier in the day, had spent some time alone under a fig tree. Yet when Jesus meets him, He tells Nathaniel that He saw him earlier – enjoying the shade of that tree. Nathaniel knew he had been entirely alone and yet, somehow, Jesus knew he was there and saw him supernaturally. He was left to also ponder, “This man can do this?” And yet, that was such a small thing in the bigger scope of Jesus’ power and glory. Jesus saw a man under a tree who thought he had been unseen but earlier in history, He created man out of dust. Nathaniel was amazed that Jesus saw what had been invisible to others but earlier in history, Jesus proved He was the Lord of infinity.
Jesus wants Nathaniel to know that if he is impressed by this earlier encounter under the tree, he hasn’t seen anything yet! This announcement of ‘going up and down the stairway of heaven’ is an admission of being the God-man who spans and connects two worlds. He is Lord of heaven and earth. When Jacob wrestled with the sovereignty of Yahweh, he saw this same ‘coming and going’ on a supernatural stairway.
What a God I serve. The things He has done that have left me speechless are miniscule in the larger scope of His power. The miracles, which to me have changed me forever, will pale in comparison to the things I will see Jesus do. Some things He will accomplish while I’m still alive, but most glorious things await me in the new kingdom. Won’t it be glorious to finally see the open heavens and for our spiritual eyesight to engage? If you know Jesus, we will share it together.
I really have no idea who powerful you are. Not yet. How could your Word possibly tell it all? Yet, You will personally show me. What a day, Jesus. 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 has ever fallen in love with Jesus through the intimate stories of someone else’s faith encounter. At best, the story inspired them and then opened the door for them to seek Jesus for themselves. Philip knew that Nathaniel would only be convinced about the Messiah if he saw Him personally. That’s why he urged him, “Come and see.”
For Philip, the unmerited favor of God had just intersected his personal history and brought an experience the likes of which he would never forget. Nothing in the future would eclipse the memory. As he ran to Nathaniel, he knew that in just moments, the veil that limited Nathanael’s spiritual eyesight would be lifted as well. He and Jesus would also engage in a personal discussion that would rock his world.
Are such defining moments possible today for the one who asks Jesus to reveal Himself to them? 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 no longer impress us nor satisfy what it is we’re really craving.
Those around us may not see what we see but we know it is a holy moment. We’ll take our shoes off even as we remember it. In the afterglow, we’ll live dazed by the memory and tremble in the distraction of it. Such is the condition of anyone who has seen God pass by and stopped to worship and be loved.
We know it’s hard to capture it in words and tell someone else what happened. That’s why we join the many other evangelists through the ages to say, “Come and see for yourself.”
Lord, commune with us today in a place that doesn’t need words. Come to the ones we’ve been praying for who haven’t seen You yet. Amen
John testified, “I saw the Holy Spirit descending like a dove from heaven and resting upon him. I didn’t know he was the one, but when God sent me to baptize with water, he told me, ‘The one on whom you see the Spirit descend and rest is the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit.’ John 1:32-33 [NLT]
John lowered the Lamb of God beneath the waters of the Jordan. What a holy contradiction. The sinless One stepped into a baptism for sinners. But Jesus did not enter the river because He needed to repent. He entered because He had come to identify with the people He would soon redeem. He stood where the guilty stood, long before He would hang where the guilty should have hung. And when Jesus rose from the water, heaven answered. The Spirit descended and rested upon Him and the Father spoke His pleasure over His Son.
Jesus was not made beloved that day. He had always been beloved. He was not made holy. He had always been holy. But now He was publicly commissioned for the work ahead. The Lamb had stepped into His calling.
John’s baptism with water was a sign. Though He could immerse repentant sinners beneath the river’s surface, Jesus would immerse His people in the power of the Holy Spirit.
At my conversion, no sky opened that I could see. No dove descended before my eyes. No audible voice shook the room. But something no less miraculous happened. The Spirit of God touched my dead spirit and brought it to life. I was joined to Christ. I was sealed for redemption. I was adopted as a child of God. Heaven knew the full impact of what had happened, even if I only understood it in part.
Jesus left the holy place in the Jordan and entered the wilderness of temptation, testing, and faith-building. I left the holy moment of conversion and entered the wilderness of life, too. Daily, I’ve been tempted. Daily, I’ve been tested. Daily, I’ve had opportunities for faith-building. But unlike Jesus, I’ve often doubted the love of the One who anointed me. I’ve learned how easily fear can question what God has already spoken over me.
Speak again over every fearful place in me: “You are Mine,” and let that be enough to make me stand. Amen
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 with toxic unworthiness, we can agree that it feels like a holy thing. Satan makes sure of that.
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 as he penned them or was he consumed by his own unworthiness? Reading the rest of the lyrics reveals that it was the first.
Shame is supposed to be healed in the arms of a great Savior. Perfect love melts all guilt and shame and if we were to see Jesus today and bask in the affection of His beating heart, we would be immersed in joy. I don’t believe unworthiness would have the last word.
Satan is out to destroy the joy of our salvation. If he can’t keep us from believing and following Jesus, then he’ll keep us from the fuel that will give us our joy. God’s love. He’ll twist scriptures to cause us to believe that we didn’t deserve to be chosen. And, we didn’t deserve to be forgiven even more! Unworthiness leads to self-hatred. Any of us who have knelt at the feet of Jesus, never feeling like we could raise our heads out of the dirt, missed the joy of basking in the eyes of Love.
What about yesterday’s mistakes? What about yesterday’s sin? Don’t these disqualify and prove unworthiness? Not in heaven’s economy. Love confers unconditional affection. Love paid the price for the sin that God has already put out of sight. Love lifts our head out of the dirt. Love grants new mercies every morning. Love celebrates the future. Love does not remind us of unworthiness. Our worship does that but it’s fleeting because it’s all in the context of celebration. What does humility mixed with joyful confidence sound like?
Lord, you are so great, so holy. I am sinful but oh, I am loved. I am unworthy, yes, but You made me worthy. I’m a dancer, not a wallower. Amen
John replied in the words of the prophet Isaiah: “I am the voice shouting in the wilderness, ‘Clear the way for the Lord’s coming!'” John 1:23 NLT
If a stranger says, ‘Tell me about yourself.’ I might answer, “I am a mother, wife, author, musician, and director of a women’s ministry?”
But what might my reply be if I was interrogated in a hostile setting. “Who do you think you are!” Would I scramble to list my credentials, putting to rest any insinuations that I was somehow unqualified? And would bragging add weight to my credibility? Probably not. In fact, it could backfire.
John the Baptist was a priest from the line of Aaron. Strong credentials! Yet, when the priests and Levites from Jerusalem investigated him ~ the equivalent of an inquisition by the Vatican ~ he stuns us with his answer. The question was posed. “Who are you?” But the one who did have impressive credentials divested himself of them all for a bigger purpose. He revealed that he was simply a voice to prepare people to see Jesus. John didn’t say, “I am one teaching” or “I am one telling.” He described his delivery as shouting or crying. It’s impossible to cry out publicly without passion, without intensity.
I ask myself if I ever talk about Jesus void of feeling. Do I teach in dry, sterile tones? Or is there a magnetic quality to my words because my heart has long been engaged from personal experience? Would heartfelt describe others’ experience of me? Does my call to others to believe, to trust God, come across as an act that will be lifesaving to them? If my faith in Christ has not been lifesaving to me, I will never speak of it in any other way but casual.
Who am I, Lord? I am a voice you are using, one who speaks with passion, one who hears your mind in the wilderness, and one whose goal it is to make the way for you straighter today than it was yesterday. 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
After hearing about the crowds following John and the great numbers that were being baptized, the priests and temple officials came to check him out. They understood from all the reports that he was a person of influence and they needed to know who he was. Several questions would be on their tongue. ‘Are you Elijah? Are you one of the prophets?’ But before asking those, they started with the obvious. ‘Who are you?’ John must have sensed what they were really asking so he set all rumors straight by cutting to the chase. “I am not the Messiah.”
How would it feel to grow up knowing that your parents, Elizabeth and Zachariah, were blessed by God in their old age to bear a child, that child was you, and your life had an incredible purpose shared by no one else ~ to prepare the way for the Messiah. How would you not feel special? How would you not want to tell others of your destiny, to have them share the wonder of it all? “I’m John, the one who was miraculously born to prepare the way for our Messiah.” Would that have been arrogant? Perhaps it’s the battle Joseph faced as a teenager when he wanted to share his dreams and the wonder of his father’s love with his brothers.
The divine anointing on John’s life was evident through his following. But lest others think that he was the chosen one they had been waiting for, he would not delay setting the record straight. He would tell them who he was not….rather than who he was. He would not become the object of their fascination, or worse, their worship. Soon, the Messiah would appear and John could blend into the background with all the others to worship the only One worthy of worship.
Notoriety can be an opiate. The humility to defer to One greater grates against our human need to be the center of attention. John called himself ‘a voice’. That’s all. When it comes down to it, each of us are equipped to be a nameless part of Christ’s body until His appearing. Who are we? We are shepherds, teachers, helpers and equippers, people of hospitality, comforters and discerners of spirits. We are created lives destined to use our anointed gifts to light up the face of Jesus. We are lights, a city on a hill. Our light can often be dazzling but not because of anything we’ve done. We are broken “jars of clay” in God’s hands. We are illuminated by the light of His glory and His face shines brilliantly through the cracks and flaws of imperfection. John never lost sight of His own sinfulness and Jesus’ perfection.
I need not be tall in other’s eyes. I am significant to You so help that register deeply where my insecurities fester. Amen
