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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

No one has ever seen God. But the unique One, who is himself God, is near to the Father’s heart. He has revealed God to us.  John 1:18. NLT

The expression John paints of Jesus being near to the Father’s heart is not new to us.  Today, we use the same expression to describe a feeling for our children.  ‘Near and dear to our heart’ implies that the relationship is not like most others.  Encounters with them ~ we carry with us.  Words they speak to us ~ we hold dear.  Pain they express ~ we embrace and lift to the Father constantly in prayer.   

To be near to the Father’s heart literally means that Jesus was ‘in the bosom of the Father.’  A bosom is defined as three things. 

1. The bosom is part of the upper body between both arms.  The heart, specifically. 

I don’t know what you face today.  It may look like a routine day to you so far but for every person who faces scary unknowns, God has you near to His heart.  You have not been pushed away, put down, or even relegated to a place near Him yet out of sight.  He has embraced you and drawn you up to His chest.  When your heart beats, He feels it.  When His heart beats, you feel it. In all their distress he too was distressed, and the angel of his presence saved them. In his love and mercy he redeemed them, He lifted them up and carried them all the days of old. Isaiah 63:9

• The bosom is also the upper part of a loose garment where things are tucked away, carried with the traveler.  

God has also chosen to tuck you into His bosom for safe keeping.  No matter where He’s actively at work today, you are right there.  Just before my friend, Maryann, left for the Holy Land a few years ago, I lamented, “I wish you could tuck me in your suitcase.”  The sentiment is understood ~ If only I could see what you see, experience what you experience. God wants me to know that I stay with Him always, no matter where His Spirit goes.  When He has a heart for a remote region of the world, He will show me His passion for the people if I just ask.  When He is grieved by sin, I will feel His grief.  I am trucked into His cloak and it is wrapped around me securely. He gathers the lambs in His arms and carries them close to His heart. Isaiah 40: 11

• The bosom is also a bay in a body of water.

God has promised to be a bay in the storm.  In the distance, I see a u-shaped indentation in my voyage.  I recognize the calm waters that only a bay offers.  The mountainous waves roll past its opening while swimmers float near shore on glassy seas. God is offering me this harbor, anytime, and calls me to pull out of turbulent waters.  How do I find this bay?  It’s wherever He is.  They rejoiced in the silence, and He guided them to the harbor they desired. Psalm 107:30

I need this today.  You’ve picked me up, taken me with you to my divine appointments today and when turbulent, You draw me into the stillness of You.  Amen

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

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 for them 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 do protocols feel very personal.  Feeling close to God was to experience His care through collective acts of protection from 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 likes of the law but to fulfill it.  Jesus came to bring unfailing love and faithfulness.  Love messages would not be written on tablets of stone but on the hearts of men and women, one at a time.  Jesus was to be experienced personally.  A relationship would begin that could be nurtured and deepened.  And once the Holy Spirit came at Pentecost, that relationship become even more intimate than what was possible between two human beings.  There was a palpable internal dwelling of the Spirit of God.

So why would I ever prefer a protocol to a personal experience?  A culture of conduct instead of a friendship with God?  The first forms a religion, the second forms a relationship.

Jesus, you did so much more than bring the forgiveness of sins.  You brought love and faithfulness.  You drew me with cords of love.  Amen

From his abundance we have all received one gracious blessing after another.  John 1:16 NLT

When there is a terrific sale on something popular, it doesn’t take long for the shelves to empty.  When a vaccine is scarce, we are seeing firsthand the long lines of people waiting to get this lifesaving intervention.  But the supply isn’t there yet.  

All things valuable are not available to everyone.  Either money, or accessibility, or supply is limited.  Oh, but not so with who Jesus is and what He offers to anyone who asks.  As much as I might ask for today, I can ask for twice as much tomorrow.  There is no apology needed for whatever large amounts I might need. I am not taking it away from the next person who asks.  I am not draining the One, Jesus, who gives it.  

Jesus is Living Water and He pours out a stream of blessings that flows endlessly.  The tragedy is that this life-giving flow comes to the door of everyone’s heart.  For many reasons, some never open it.  It doesn’t have to be a rejection of Jesus that always keeps these blessings at bay.  It might be a child of God that simply refuses to receive because of a huge sense of unworthiness.  What a tragedy.  

In this time of emotional and physical challenges, and with the time afforded to me to think about things like this particular scripture, it would be so beneficial for me to start making a mental list today of what blessings John might be referring to.  Where I usually start is with the tangible but that would be a mistake.  Jesus has offered me Himself first.  He is the gift.   Here’s the start of my list ~ 

I’m not invisible to Him. 

He looks at me compassionately.

He has mercy on my sin.

He offers forgiveness.

He made me perfect. 

At the mention of His name, He immediately answers ~ ‘Yes, what do you need?’

What a Savior.  What a Savior of abundance. 

You, Jesus, are the Storehouse of blessings.  Amen