Pouring out

When Mary poured the perfume over Jesus feet, [1] her childhood dreams may have soaked the ground as well.

She anointed Jesus with pure nard, worth an annual wage. What does your family earn in a year? Would you pour it out in worship of Jesus?

The first image is a foreshadowing of Jesus’ coming death. We know women went to his tomb with spices to anoint Jesus’ body, but Mary got the first chance to prepare him for his death.

But there’s more to this story.

The value of this perfume was astounding. Was it a savings account of sorts? Or, more likely, a dowry? A woman would keep such an expensive item in preparation for her marriage. In Jewish culture, marriage and child-bearing defined women. With such expensive perfume in her possession, Mary was poised for an appropriate marriage.

But she poured it out on Jesus’ feet.

Every little Jewish girl dreamed of her marriage, her husband, her children. In a breath-taking act of sacrifice, Mary chose to worship Jesus instead. In one sense, she declared Jesus as her bridegroom and forfeited her childhood hopes for a walk with the Carpenter.

A few verses later, Jesus declared the necessity of the seed dying as it went into the ground (like a body into a tomb) only to spring forth with new life and fruitfulness.[2]

Mary got that. Mary’s dreams died that day but Mary walked on in the new life and fruitfulness of Jesus.

The rich scent of her perfume filled the house and continues to fill our hearts today as an astonishing picture of what commitment to Jesus looks like. It’s about letting go.

In the same way, anyone who holds on to life just as it is destroys that life. But if you let it go, reckless in your love, you'll have it forever, real and eternal.

John 12:25 (MSG)

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[1] John 12:3

[2] John 12:24

Selecting Carefully

Most people are afraid terrified of death. We can’t picture ourselves with grave clothes lying a tomb. A friend once told me that when we died, there was a brick wall of nothingness waiting.

He didn’t see that he was already in that tomb.

We talked this week about Martha, who said she believed in Jesus’ resurrection power, but struggled to open Lazarus’ tomb. What did she believe? After all, what’s more certain than even taxes? Death.

What do I believe?

Death is something in the future, right? It isn’t now for me.

Jesus raised Lazarus to illustrate his authority over death. Death is not the end of the line and Jesus could connect his words with his actions. He came to restore life and freedom.

The mourners had limited belief. His own followers thought Jesus couldn’t heal over a distance and were confident that death was task-master over even the Messiah. They didn’t guess Jesus was the key to life itself.

Lazarus’ story foreshadowed Jesus’ own death. Both were buried in tombs, closed in by stones, wrapped in burial clothes. In each case, there was no hope of life.

But hopelessness is not the locked door that Jesus can not open.

He told the mourners to remove Lazarus’ grave clothes. “Let him loose!” he said.

We’re Lazarus, dead and buried without hope. But Jesus stands at the tomb, rich in power and authority. Death isn’t the final word. Belief is.

Jesus says to us: get out of those grave clothes and start walking. Believe it.

I came not to judge the world, but to save the world.

John 12:47

The Test

Talk about audacious. Today it would be like exhuming a body a month after the burial. We squirm with the unpleasantness and so did Martha.

Jesus had asked her to open the tomb. Her reply was understandable: "Lord, already there is a stench.”[1] She was in the acceptance stage of grief. She gently reminded Jesus, “he has been dead four days."[2]

Remember that after four days of death, there was no longer hope in Jewish circles.

To open the tomb would expose the indelicacies of death. Yet it was to Martha that Jesus had disclosed his resurrection power. “I am the resurrection and the life,” he’d said to her. “Do you believe this?”

She’s said yes and now he asked for the step. Open the tomb.

No longer were they talking platitudes or easy words of belief. Jesus asked for belief in action. Open the tomb.

Jesus said to her, "Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?" [3]

Decision time. Jesus came to Bethany, where he planned to reveal the glory of God, and Martha had to choose.

Jesus announced his intent, "Father, I thank you for having heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me."[4]

The purpose for all this was to develop belief. These witnesses were about to see a miracle greater than any they had seen before.

As Lazarus came from the tomb, impossibly alive, these witnesses saw that Jesus’ words and his actions connected. Jesus revealed the Father’s glory. Would the people believe?

Tomorrow: Selecting Carefully

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[1] John 11:39

[2] John 11:39

[3] John 11:40

[4] John 11:42

Jesus wept

Mary was followed by a crowd when she came to Jesus that day. Whether hired or simply sympathetic, mourners clung to family as they grieved together.

Jesus had delayed in coming and Mary said to Jesus exactly what her sister, Martha, had said: "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died."[1]

Mary also believed Jesus could heal illness but apparently not from a distance. Where Mary thought she was revealing her absolute confidence in Jesus’ power to heal, she also revealed the limitations of her belief.

To understand Jesus’ own coming resurrection, the principle of Jesus’ power over death has to be made clear. And Jesus was about to make known his power.

But he wept at the limited belief of the crowd as he grieved the limited belief of his own disciples and also of Martha.

He told the disciples, “for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe.”[2]

He disclosed his resurrection power to Martha: “Do you believe this?"[3]

The Jews, seeing Jesus weep, assumed he cried out of love for Lazarus. But Jesus knew his next action. He wept out of love for the crowd, which did not believe. Their question shows that, for they also asked "Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?"[4]

Jesus wept for the limited belief of those who knew him. They knew only in part what Jesus was about to reveal more fully: that he was master not only of illness, but of distance and of death as well. His love encompassed them and his next words asked them to step forward.

Tomorrow: The test

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[1] John 11:32

[2] John 11:15

[3] John 11:26

[4] John 11:37

A sister's belief

The cold grip of mournful acceptance met Jesus as he made his way to the home of Martha and Mary. Although he had been summoned days earlier, Jesus arrived in Bethany four days after Lazarus’ death.

In those days, many Jews believed a person’s spirit hovered above the body for three days but there was no hope by the fourth day.

Into this atmosphere, Jesus met Martha, Lazarus’ sister. Undoubtedly Lazarus was the wage-earner in the family and his death left the two sisters in uncertainty about their futures.

Martha greeted Jesus with tenderness, expressing her confidence in his ability to heal. The idea that Jesus might raise her brother never occurred to her. That can be plainly seen by her response to Jesus’ words that Lazarus would rise again. She agreed: in the end. She believed in the resurrection of the dead.

But Jesus intended to stretch her belief just as he intended to stretch the disciples’ belief.

So he asked her to believe more. He could heal, but she obviously didn’t realize he wasn’t limited by distance. He could have healed Lazarus from far away.

But he waited til all hope was gone before arriving on the scene because he wanted to make a new statement.

Notice what he told Martha: "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?"[1]

Jesus continued to bring up the issue of belief: with the disciples and now with Martha. Into the place of no hope, Jesus asked for new belief.

Not a belief based on what they’d seen but belief based on what he promised.

That stretches all of us.

Tomorrow: Jesus wept.

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[1] John 11:25-26

About stumbling

It had to seem strange to get a story about light when the concern was with safety. Were they communicating?

The religious leaders hated Jesus yet Jesus proposed going back into enemy territory.

"But Rabbi," the disciples said, "a short while ago the Jews tried to stone you, and yet you are going back there?"[1]

His response? A story about light and darkness and stumbling. "Are there not twelve hours of daylight? A man who walks by day will not stumble, for he sees by this world's light. It is when he walks by night that he stumbles, for he has no light."[2]

This made no sense. They’d stubbed their toes in the night before, but why did Jesus care about that?

Jesus wasn’t done with his followers. "Lazarus is dead, and for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe.”[3]

Remember that these men had seen Jesus restore sight to a blind man. He changed five loaves and two fishes into food for 5,000. They had seen him make wine from water and give steps to a lame man.

But now they didn’t think he could protect them in enemy territory. Jesus made it clear to them he was going to Lazarus, already dead and buried, to give them belief.

They were walking in the light of Jesus’ words and signs, yet they were stumbling. It wasn’t time to stumble but to grow into richer belief.

We all believe something about Jesus but belief is not absolute. We can believe he’s a great teacher or a rebel or our Savior. And we can still doubt his word in other areas.

I have the daylight of Jesus’ teaching. Am I stumbling?

Tomorrow: a sister’s belief

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[1] John 11:8

[2] John 11:9-10

[3] John 11:14-15

Coffee shop moms

They were using our words. Encouragement flowed, love and support gushed from each message.

“We’re glad you’re back, sister! We love you!” wrote one excited mom. Another added, “We need you. You’re like the light in the darkness. Ignore those who hate.”

But there was a twist to all this.

These words buoyed a mom who had exited a message board in anger because some self-described Christians attacked her spiritual views. Well, her lack of spiritual views, to be precise.

What we’ve been reading are buttressing comments among atheist mothers.

Once I would have closed Firefox before reading any further. But I was curious. I read page upon page of encouragement and love, a veritable fountain of camaraderie and sisterhood.

Weren’t atheists supposed to be growling curmudgeons, viewing relationships with suspicion and spending hours pouring over dusty ledgers of philosophy? Weren’t they supposed to prefer Plato to toddlers?

I learned that these atheist mothers loved their families and their friends. I learned that they considered themselves the protectors of all things logical and scientific, viewing with anger any challenges to their viewpoint. I also learned that some Christians like to do airstrikes, dropping a quick bomb and then retreating to watch the fireworks.

At least one post suggested that this sisterhood should examine its own hatefulness and sin. That, of course, earned eternal scorn and more rallying of the troops.

So how does a follower of Jesus respond? We have often pidgeon-holed atheists into a neat little bundle that we assume is condemned to the place of eternal brimstone and fire. But if ours is a walk of relationship, we owe relationship to those with different views. Jesus didn’t pidgeon-hole.

These atheist moms obviously craved loving relationships – and hadn’t found much among the Christians on the message board. They weren’t drawn to the condemnation but found traction among their own sisterhood.

Jesus extended his hand to a woman caught in adultery, offering her connection over condemnation. Can we do the same?

"Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her."

John 8:7

Soldiers and the body

When I’m standing in the trenches with mortars flying over my head, I’d like to know the state of those standing beside me. The previous article tries to group Christians by their belief system. Why should we care?

One of the reasons is this spiritual battle. We strap on our armor but we don’t stand alone. Even the angels didn’t know about the mystery of the body of Christ, but now we stand together as one body, toes and feet linking with livers and lungs.

I don’t want to be a judge but it helps me to know that, for example, a cultural Christian stands beside me. I won’t expect what this person isn’t ready to deliver.

Another reason to be aware of Christian groups is that sometimes the mission field is in our own pews. For those who enter a church because of reasons other than Christ crucified, I have an opportunity to point them to Jesus.

Chambers argues for the centrality of the cross: “We lose power if we do not concentrate on the right thing. The effect of the Cross is salvation, sanctification, healing, etc., but we are not to preach any of these, we are to preach Jesus Christ and Him crucified.”

This walk of faith is not about traditions or worship practices or comfort but about following him who gave up all for our freedom. So the grouping by Christianity Today is useful: to re-focus our attention on Jesus.

“I am the way, the truth and the life.” John 14:6

So why signs?

The music was upbeat and the images bouncy, but I just didn’t get it. What were they trying to sell in that ad? Style drowned out the image for me. That’s because I’m an outsider to the cool world branded by the marketers.

Fortunately, that’s not the case with John’s writings. In his book, he tells us exactly why he wrote.

But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name. John 20:31

This week we’ve discussed the link between knowledge and belief. In a variety of settings, John showed us people who thought they knew because they have seen miracles. But their belief didn’t stick.

Today, we don’t get to see Jesus walking into Cana and bring a dying son back to life. But we do get to read about it. For the nobleman who had to choose between sight and Jesus’ words, the decision was agonizing. But in taking Jesus at his word, the father saw the gift of life.

It’s more important to believe Jesus’ word than to see his miracles.

Miracles happen today, bringing encouragement to those who follow the King. But don’t we long for more – to see the miracles from Jesus’ hand?

We don’t get to see those signs firsthand, but that didn’t produce enduring belief for the first-century observer anyway. The privilege of reading God’s Word is ours and by believing we have life in his name.

Tying the knot

Thomas is sometimes our spokesman, blurting out words that we’d like to say: Jesus, I won’t believe until I see the nailprints in your hands and touch the sword slash in your side. (John 20:25)

Ours is a world of material where we can feel the warmth of the sun, touch the roughness of tree bark, taste the tang of , smell a new rose, see mountains jutting into a azure-blue sky.

For many, there is nothing else. There is no spiritual, no unseen, no imperceptible – only what we can detect through our senses.

Jesus walked with those whose belief followed their senses. They saw and then believed. His ministry began in an insignificant village where he transformed cleansing water to wine, a clear image of his coming redemption. His second miracle was in that same town where he transformed death into life in healing a dying son.

The stories told between the Cana account of John 2 and the Cana account of John 4 explore the link between knowledge and belief. For many reading John’s gospel, the quest was for secret knowledge to open the box of understanding.

But the belief of those who saw Jesus’ miracles and then thought they grasped the truth was not made of the stuff of eternity. That belief faded like fog in the sunlight. The way to life was through belief. John is clear on that.

The way to belief is not through knowledge. Seeing is not believing.

Jesus challenged a nobleman to take him at his word. In doing that, the father found life and belief.

Thomas demanded physical evidence before pledging his heart to Jesus. But as Jesus stood before him, Thomas melted into belief.

Don’t we sometimes long to hear Jesus’ voice or touch his hand? Yet Jesus made it clear that belief does not come from seeing but from his word.

“Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” John 21:29

Next: So why signs?

Is seeing believing?

It was about a 16-mile walk for a desperate father, dry and empty in spite of others on the road. He could have sent his servants but this was a task of the heart, a longing for the impossible. His heart pounded with the adrenalin of fear and distress.

He approached to Jesus with a simple request: come to Capernaum and heal his son, who was dying. (John 4:46-54) He had no other hope.

Jesus’ response was puzzling. This well-known teacher and healer started discussing belief. The father had asked for healing, hadn’t he? Wasn’t that belief?

But Jesus lumped him in with his countrymen: “unless you people see signs and wonders, you will not believe.” Jesus had just returned from Jerusalem, where people thronged to the signs he had done. In Samaria, his ability to tell a woman her past opened doors for deeper discussion. People clung to the miracles.

Desperation was in the man’s reply: please hurry before my son dies.

“Go home,” Jesus told him. “Your son lives.”

The crisis took shape. Would the man remain to badger Jesus? Would he leave Jesus and the opportunity for healing? What if his son wasn’t healed?

Were Jesus’ words those of promise or dismissal?

Amazing words follow for the man believed Jesus’ word and went home. We know he later learned his son was healed at the time Jesus sent him home.

We learn something of the nature of belief. Jesus challenged this weary and worried father: believe my words, not what you see. Your people demand to see but I want you to trust my words, not my actions.

Life is linked to belief. Jesus’ words, not a visible sign, led to life. A man and his household discovered life through the Word.

Next: Tying the knot

A father's vision

A child on the doorstep of eternity will drive a father to extreme measures. And that’s probably why the nobleman traveled all the way to Cana: to lure Jesus back to him in the wild hope this rabbi could heal his son.

People talked and the stories swirled about healings in Jerusalem, strange occurrences in Samaria. The father was hoping to see his son restored to health.

You may be familiar with the story, found in John 4:46-54.

Because the story takes place in Cana, it forms what’s known as an inclusio, a bookend of sorts with John 2, where Jesus turned water into wine in Cana. The nobleman’s story completes a unit in the text that we can study for common threads.

We’re going to spend some time trying to follow some threads. Try to review John 2-4 this week, not necessarily reading each verse carefully but scanning to get the larger picture.

Starting in Cana, Jesus turned 6 jars water into wine. We don’t know if anyone saw the miracle, only the results. But we do know it resulted in his disciples believing in him.

Then Jesus traveled to Jerusalem, where many saw him do miracles and believed in him. We discussed earlier how he did not trust their believing, however. Their belief was based on what they saw and that belief faded when he was no longer in sight.

Nicodemus, in John 3, opened a discussion with Jesus by carefully explaining what he knew. Jesus challenged the knowing. You think you know what you can see but that seeing hasn’t produced correct knowledge.

We next read about John the Baptist, who was telling about something he had not seen. However, he told his listeners, Jesus told about what he had seen. “He tells what he has seen and heard, but how few believe what he tells them!” (John 3:32)

In Samaria, Jesus moved a conversation from water to eternity, reminding the woman she worshiped what she did not know.

And then we read the account about the nobleman, who came to see Jesus.

Next: Is seeing believing?

The conflict

When Nicodemus came to Jesus to extend his hand of generous knowledge, he came in the night. Some suggest that John was underlining a key point: Nicodemus was in the dark about Jesus’ nature. Others suggest that he was afraid of the Pharisees and was hiding under cover of darkness.

Both interpretations work well, especially considering how John frequently uses light as an analogy for Jesus. Nicodemus was in the dark and Jesus was the light.

But what happened to Nicodemus? He gets the John 3:16 discourse and we aren’t told the end of the story. Yet.

Later in the book of John, we meet Nicodemus again. The Pharisees were in a froth because of Jesus’ words at the temple and wanted him arrested. They bemoaned those who believed. In 7:50, Nicodemus confronted the Pharisees about a point of law: our law doesn’t judge without a hearing, does it?

They accused him of ignorance. Ironically, their point was that the Messiah will not come from Galilee but their own lack of knowledge – that Jesus was born in Bethlehem – revealed their own ignorance.

And, for Nicodemus, hearing Jesus' version of knowledge allowed him to stand up to the Jewish authorities after Jesus’ death. He was the man who helped Joseph of Arimathea anoint and bury Jesus.

To touch a dead man would defile a Pharisee and to openly align himself with Jesus ended his alliance with the religious leaders. Nicodemus, who originally came to Jesus to make peace (dare I say “seek approval”?), made a stronger stand than did the disciples.

They feared the Romans and the Jewish leaders. Whom did Nicodemus fear? I’d suggest that he only feared failing Jesus. He stood in the face of human rejection. Why?

We’re told in John 2 that Jesus knew what is in a person. Immediately afterward, he sat down with Nicodemus to correct his knowledge. Did Nicodemus, through this encounter, come to understand what was in a person?

Jesus didn’t entrust himself to people and, in the end, neither did Nicodemus. They knew that people are proud, selfish, emotional, moody, arrogant.

It’s a lesson we ought to learn. Not only am I weak, but so are you. Should I work to earn your approval or should you speak words that please me? Should your criticism crush me? Should my standards control you?

Jesus did not fear people’s opinions. His approval and direction came from the Father and he knew what people were truly like. Nicodemus learned. How’s our knowledge doing?

Our knowing

Nicodemus knew a lot. He told Jesus so. He knew Jesus did miracles and only God could do miracles. So Nicodemus logically deduced that Jesus was a teacher sent by God.

He thought himself expansive. He hadn’t trusted rumors and second-hand information. He had done what we should all do: gone to the source. He came to inform Jesus of his open-mindedness.

We know, he told Jesus, that you are could not do these miracles except God’s hand was on you.

As a Pharisee, he knew the ancient writings intimately. And he missed the point. Jesus might be a teacher or a prophet. But he might also be the Messiah, and Nicodemus never considered that.

So what he knew was limited to his own preconceptions. He “knew” what the Messiah would look like, and it wasn’t this man. Yet Jesus responded with compassion, addressing exactly that point in his response.

You can’t see the truth without being changed, Jesus told him. You don’t have the ability to know truth in your present state. The change must be as radical.

Here was the kingdom of God standing before him, and Nicodemus’ knowing was pretty thin. He couldn’t see who Jesus was.

Jesus revealed truth, compassion, salvation to Nicodemus. John 3 contains an amazing theological discussion about the nature of knowing, the mission of the Messiah, the personality of belief.

Yesterday we talked about Jesus knowing what was in a person in John 2. The message flows into John 3 where Jesus reveals that our knowing is nothing like his. He knows what is in us while we don’t even know what is in ourselves.

We think belief comes by seeing – miracles, charisma, signs – but Jesus made it clear that enduring belief does not come from within ourselves unless we are changed. It’s like being born a second time or like having the wind of the Spirit blow through.

Our knowing can’t even produce belief. We need help.

Next: a conflict of knowing

Knowing

Jesus had just had an amazing set of encounters in Jerusalem. He’d drawn whips to chase the merchants out of the temple. He’d compared himself to the temple, shocking the Jews. He’d performed many miraculous signs, causing many to believe.

Yet, in John 2:24, we’re told that he did not entrust himself to the people.

Why not? Hadn’t he done the signs to stir belief? Hadn’t he revealed his zeal for God’s house in cleansing the temple? Hadn’t he confronted the religious leaders?

The people responded with belief. And he didn’t believe their belief.

Rightly so. Even the disciples believed and then didn’t and then believed and then didn’t throughout Jesus’ ministry. At the end, when he was arrested, they scattered like lightning bugs in the light.

Jesus didn’t entrust himself to the people for he knew what was in a person. He hadn’t come to this earth to befriend them or to set up a fraternity but to save them. He wasn’t fishing for approval or even understanding.

He knew what was in us and his mission was rescue. He wasn’t a church planter or a consensus-builder. He came because he knew our sin nature, that we are incapable of even belief apart from him.

When did the disciples finally come to the place of commitment and courage? After Pentecost, when they were indwelt by the Spirit of God.

We can’t do this alone. In that early chapter of John, many people believed Jesus’ signs and his words. But Jesus never sought their approval. He knew it would waft in the wind like fog off the river.

He didn’t come to be approved but to save.

Next: our knowing

Separation

Jesus seemed rude to his mother and that troubled me for a long time. If you’ve read John 2, where Jesus eventually rescues a wedding feast by transforming ceremonial water to drinkable wine, maybe his response to his mother has bothered you as well.

I tried to apply human reason: he was having a bad day. His feet hurt. He wasn’t yet good with words.

Truth is, he spoke a Jewish idiom, words of separation. The time had come to part.

They were at a wedding. In those days, the celebration ran on for up to a week, with food and drink stocked for the entire party. To run out of wine was embarrassing and Mary wanted to help.

That’s when Jesus responded with words that appear disrespectful. He used a Jewish saying: leave me alone. Today those are fighting words. But not then: notice how his mother responded. She was not insulted but appeared encouraged.

She turned to the servants, “do whatever he tells you.”

Jesus separated himself from his mother’s authority in this narrative. He no longer did what his mother said, but only what his Father told him to do. In the ensuing chapters of John, that point is highlighted repeatedly. Jesus obeyed only his Father, unconcerned with human influence or opinion.

Mary’s actions are fascinating. When a problem arose, she turned to her son. She informed him of her concerns. Unlike most of us, she did not suggest the solution. She simply laid the problem before him. Having done that, she prepared for obedience. She understood the separation. She had nurtured him as a child but now, as a man, he followed his Father. Her role shifted to following.

Although Jesus’ idiom appears harsh, he was really laying the foundation for his ministry. He did not answer to human authority – not even his mother. He answered only to his Heavenly Father.

And Mary responded as a follower should: with trust and with obedience.

Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.

John 2:11

Dive In: Author's intent

Water pours (pun intended) through the book of John. I’ll illustrate shortly. Diving into a text means that we notice the author’s design, and use those elements to lay open deeper meanings.

The author’s point is key. We cannot look at a text and lay our design on it. Our first step must be to discover the author’s meaning. If we believe in the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, then the author’s intent reflects the intent of God as well.

It should not be compromised by the all-to-common “this what the text means to me.”

But let’s go back to John for illustration.

Reading should always be done both with a microscope and a wide-angle lens. If you look at the first four chapters of John (that’s the wide-angle approach), you’ll see water imagery. Notice:

• John the Baptist uses water to baptize many in John 1. We know from Acts that this was referred to as a baptism of repentance.
• In John 2, we have water turned to wine. Large jars that usually held water for ceremonial cleansing were instead filled with water then transformed into wine for drinking.
• Although Jesus, in the latter part of John 2, does not specifically use water, he cleanses the temple in Jerusalem.
• When Jesus counsels Nicodemus, he explains the idea of being born of water and of the spirit. (John 3:5)
• In the latter verses of John 3, our focus returns to John baptizing. He wants nothing of the spotlight, however, taking a dispute about purification (cleansing?) as an opportunity to point to Jesus.
• John 4 is obvious: Jesus meets the woman at a well and discusses living water.
• The healing of the nobleman’s son happens at the end of John 4.. Although water is not obviously a key factor, our author points out to us that this miracle happened at Cana, the same town were water was turned to wine.
• In John 5:1-15, we read about the cripple at the pool of Bethsaida, hoping the water would heal him but instead Jesus did.

I have some thoughts on the author’s intent here but I’d like to hear something of yours. Would you share a comment about something you think the author was trying to communicate? Don’t feel you need a lengthy discussion. We can build an interesting discussion through several insights.

Remember, the idea is to share a thought on what the author may have been trying to communicate. I’m anxious to hear what you notice.

Rejoicing in the bridegroom

Anticipation and joy were clearly etched on Matt’s face in the photo. A friend gave us the picture after our wedding. She’d captured Matt’s expression as he walked down the aisle after the ceremony and I treasure that snapshot.

A bridegroom celebrates his bride and rejoices in the marriage.

Yesterday, we talked about the Samaritan woman as a bride of Christ. I want to point out some other interesting parallels in the early part of the book of John.

Jesus’ first miracle, the famous turning water into wine at Cana, happened at a wedding. In the midst of the celebration, the wine ran out. The festivities were about to end on a lack of planning but Jesus supplied abundant excellence, allowing the celebrating to continue. There are many other images in the story, but this wedding thread is an interesting one.

And the thread works its way into the next chapter, where John the Baptist describes Jesus as the bridegroom. John the Baptist understands his own role, as a friend of the groom celebrating the marriage.

He who has the bride is the bridegroom. The friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom's voice. (John 3:29)

Finally, the thread continues into John 4. In John 2, we see Jesus as an outsider blessing a wedding celebration with abundance and new life. In John 3, John the Baptist describes Jesus as the bridegroom. It’s in this context that John expresses his need to decrease while Jesus increases.

That increase fully blossoms with the encounter at the Samaritan well. Jesus is no longer onlooker but bridegroom.

This marriage imagery is no accident. The author, John, weaves a rich fabric using such threads. We are drawn to the wedding metaphor. Imagine Jesus as the bridegroom beaming with joy and anticipation.

From the Cana wedding to the Samaritan revival, John has shown how Jesus’ ministry is about life. And the description escalates: not just the life of a wedding celebration, but about eternal life.

Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life. (John 3:36)

Even the knowing has escalated. Where the Cana wedding miracle was done in sight of a few servants, the Samaritan woman proclaimed Jesus to her community. Many followed him as their divine bridegroom.

The Bridegroom rejoices in us. Many are the gifts he showers on us. How does the bride respond?

May your day be filled with joy and with John’s declaration:

“That joy is mine, and it is now complete.”

John 3:29

At the well

In a hot, dry country, a well which sinks into the earth and delivers fresh water for life is precious. People gathered to a well for community and for sustenance.

Eliezer stood at the well outside of Nahor, asking God for help. When Rebekah came to the well, this trusted servant of Abraham asked for a drink. Her response confirmed that she was the chosen one, the bride of Isaac.

A few years later, Jacob stood at a well wondering aloud why the sheep were being brought in to water in mid-day. It was there he met Rachel, his future bride.

When Moses fled Egypt, he came to a well and watched the daughters of the priest of Midian come to draw water for their flocks. He defended them against other shepherds, not realizing that his future wife was among those daughters.

Jesus came to the well at Sychar in Samaria, tired and thirsty. When a woman approached at mid-day to draw water, he asked for a drink.

Probably you know the story. A revival began in Samaria as a result of an interchange between the divine and a stained lowly woman.

This woman had gone through five husbands and was currently living with a man who was not her husband. She drew water at noon to avoid the morning crowd and its cold shoulder. Even though marital relations had not gone well for her, she had not abandoned male companionship. She obviously enjoyed a man’s presence and was willing to defy convention for one.

Jesus approached her.

Eliezer found a wife for Isaac at a well. Jacob found Rachel at a well. Moses met Zipporah at a well. Brides were sometimes found at a well.

Followers of Jesus are called the bride of Christ. Jesus sought a bride. As the Samaritan woman revealed that she knew of the Messiah, the longed-for bridegroom, Jesus disclosed his true identity: I am he.

Look at the marks this woman had against her. She was a woman, a Samaritan, an adultress. She wasn’t our idea of the bride of Christ. She was stained, lowly, outcast.

The bride of Jesus doesn’t need a clean pedigree or a clean slate. What did Jesus look for in his bride? He wanted one simple thing. He required that his bride would worship in spirit and truth. (John 4:24)

“Those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life." John 4:14

Dive In: John

“If only I could have talked to Jesus….” Kim was wistful in her longing. “I wish God would talk to me today so I could hear him like I hear you.”

We long for that personal touch, don’t we? Many are sure belief would be easier if they had lived in Jesus’ time.

How do we learn about events when we weren’t present for the happening? Often we seek out an eyewitness account. The news media is trained to search for eyewitnesses. The legal world prizes the eyewitness in a court case. The impossible is a little more likely if someone actually saw it happen.

John’s gospel takes a new direction from the synoptics (Matthew, Mark and Luke). John makes his purpose clear in John 20:31:

But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.

John 20:31

He writes so that others may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and so receive eternal life.

John leaves out much of the synoptic material and includes material unique to his gospel, evoking plenty of questions about his purpose. Was John writing to correct the synoptics? To supplement them? Why is his central theme so different from the synoptics?

Who did he write to? The Greek word that could be translated “continue to believe” or “now believe” appears well over 20 times in John. Scholars debate John’s audience. Was he writing evangelically, to move non-Christians to belief? Or was he writing to Christians, urging them to continue in their belief? There are many theories.

In the last 100 years, scholars suggest that John wrote to evangelize Gentiles while others say John wrote to evangelize Greek-speaking Jews of the Diaspora (those scattered). Most probably, John’s purpose was to evangelize Jews and Gentiles while encouraging Christians. The same arguments that could cause one to come to faith would cause another to continue in that faith.

John’s gospel is fascinating in its uniqueness. He chose seven signs – indicating in 21:25 that there were many more – to make specific points about Jesus’ authority. Those seven miracles showed Jesus’ power over nature, time, distance, quantity – those things that seem impossible to overcome, thereby showing Jesus’ divinity.

For the many who would question Jesus’ divinity, John tackled the topic head-on with eye-witness reports on Jesus’ power.

Those who doubted the divinity of Jesus had to explain John’s eyewitness reports. John saw the signs personally.

John 2:23 summarizes the process: many people saw the miraculous signs he was doing and believed in his name.

People were eyewitnesses: they saw Jesus’ work and they believed.

Today, we have those eyewitness reports. Who needs to read John today?