Afraid to ask?

But Jesus will turn sadness into joy Lenten question #17 April 17

John 16:16-22 [Jesus said] “In a little while you won’t see me anymore. But a little while after that, you will see me again.” The disciples asked each other, “What does he mean? … We don’t understand.” Jesus realized they wanted to ask him about it, so he said, “Are you asking yourselves what I meant? … I tell you the truth, you will weep and mourn over what is going to happen to me, but the world will rejoice. You will grieve, but your grief will suddenly turn to wonderful joy. … I will see you again; then you will rejoice, and no one can rob you of that joy.”

Our Lenten roses, in full bloom

This will be the last twenty questions post until after Easter, since Jesus asked the last three questions after his resurrection. As Jesus forewarned his disciples about the grief they would feel at his crucifixion, he also told them that horrific event would not be the end of the story.

Soon they would experience their world falling apart. Despite all of Jesus’ warnings along the way, the disciples reacted to Jesus’s arrest, judgment, and death as any of us do to threat and trauma: by “freeze” (their paralysis in the Garden of Gethsemane), by trying to fight (Peter), and by flight (most of them). In his fear, Peter denied knowing Jesus. All of them felt a combination of guilt and despair. Judas killed himself. Others went back to what was safe and familiar (fishing). Thomas lacked the courage to believe the good news when it came. Like Peter and John, he had to see it for himself.

The women, though—including Jesus’s mother—stuck by him. Along with John, they pushed through the mocking crowd close enough to the cross to converse with Jesus as he hung in agony. They witnessed his death.

Did the women remember and believe what he had said, that they would see him again, in great joy? We’re not told. But, like Mary of Bethany (Mark 14:8), they did what they could; they embraced the positive action that was available to them. Still wanting to serve and care for Jesus, they went to his tomb on Sunday, as soon as they could after observing the Sabbath.

Imagine the thrill of the angel, the stone rolled back, the empty tomb, their next task (“Go and tell his disciples”)—and then Jesus, alive! meeting Mary Magdalene in the garden.

Let’s allow ourselves to take part in the narrative, to feel what they felt on that Passover weekend, as the Lamb of God was sacrificed so that his shed blood would protect us from death. With the women and John, let’s find the courage to stand by Jesus at the cross.

And let’s remember it’s OK to ask our questions. Whatever hard place you are in right now, draw near and share your grief and doubts and fears and confusion with the Lord. He understands and welcomes us. We may not be capable of understanding, yet.

But today is not the end of the story.

Miracles

But Jesus’ good works foreshadow the greatest miracle of all Lenten question #12

John 10:30-42 [Jesus said] “The Father and I are one.” Once again the people picked up stones to kill him. Jesus said, “At my Father’s direction I have done many good works. For which one are you going to stone me? … Why do you call it blasphemy when I say, ‘I am the Son of God’? … If I do the Father’s work, believe in the evidence of the miraculous works I have done, even if you don’t believe me. Then you will know and understand that the Father is in me, and I am in the Father.” … And many who were there believed in Jesus.

Have you experienced miracles in your life? I have. I wrote about several of them in Karis: All I See Is Grace. And there are many others. God is constantly at work in our world and in our lives.

But all the miracles we have heard about in Scripture or in other people’s lives or experienced ourselves pale before the greatest miracle of all, which we will celebrate in just a few days: the miracle of Jesus’ resurrection from the dead. This is the great historical pivot when death was swallowed up in victory (1 Corinthians 15:54), when HOPE became possible, when the joy at the center of the universe broke through despair. We sorrow, yes. But we know that our griefs are not the end of the story. We live in a comedy, not a tragedy.

First, though, we’ll walk with Jesus through the multilayered injustices of slander, rejection, mocking, shame, abuse, cruelty, abandonment by those closest to him, and the horrible suffering of death by crucifixion. We’ll hear Jesus say in the midst of all that, “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing.”

And because Jesus walked that road, we know there is nothing we experience which he cannot relate to. “He was beaten so we could be whole. He was whipped so we could be healed” (Isaiah 53:5).

May the Lord give each of us deeper insight these next days into these mysteries of grace and love.

Choose your own adventure

But Jesus heals our vision Lenten question from John #11

John 9:32-38[The formerly blind man told the Jewish leaders] “Ever since the world began, no one has been able to open the eyes of someone born blind. If this man were not from God, he couldn’t have done it.” “You were born a total sinner!” they answered. “Are you trying to teach us?” And they threw him out of the synagogue. When Jesus heard what had happened, he found the man and asked, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” The man answered, “Who is he, sir? I want to believe in him.” “You have seen him,” Jesus said, “and he is speaking to you!” “Yes, Lord, I believe!” the man said. And he worshiped Jesus.

Hmm. Deflecting a legitimate perspective by using contempt. Where have we seen that before?

My seven-year-old grandson recently received from his uncle a set of “choose your own ending” stories. My husband spent an hour with him a few nights ago exploring all the possible conclusions to one set of scary circumstances before finding the one happy ending that could allow Caleb to sleep in peace.

Shutterstock: Sarayut Sridee

I’ve written before on this blog about John 9, one of the most carefully crafted, intriguing chapters in the whole Bible with its intricate word play on the concept of blindness and vision. Since John doesn’t tell us what happened next in the formerly blind man’s life, we can imagine a number of possible outcomes of his rejection by the Jewish leaders when he naively (it seems) spoke truth to power. His vision went far beyond his new experience of physical sight.

Did his parents continue to reject him, to preserve their status in the synagogue?
Did the newly sighted man join the disciples in following Jesus around the countryside? If so, what did this lead to? Successful integration in the church birthed at Pentecost? Martyrdom? A mission to some other country?
What skills other than begging and dormant abilities and passions did he develop?
Did he meet a wonderful woman to marry and create his own family?

Hey, you could start with John 9, invent a past and a future for this man based on historical research, give him relationships with intriguing events and people and write a novel! The theme to explore: What did it mean for a man blind from birth, assumed to be paying the consequence of his own sin (in the womb??) or his parents’ to respond affirmatively to Jesus’ question: Do you believe in the Son of Man?

And what does this question mean to you today, in your circumstances, with your history, your relationships, your fears and expectations for your future? John’s entire Gospel compels our response to this question. What adventure will you choose?

Dark valleys

But Jesus never leaves us Lenten question from John #8 April 5, 2025

John 6:58-69 [Jesus said] “I am the true bread that came down from heaven. Anyone who eats this bread will not die as your ancestors did.” … Many of his disciples said, “This is very hard to understand. How can anyone accept it?” Jesus was aware that his disciples were complaining, so he said to them, “Does this offend you? Then what will you think if you see the Son of Man ascend to heaven again? The Spirit alone gives eternal life. Human effort accomplishes nothing. And the very words I have spoken to you are spirit and life.” … At this point many of his disciples turned away and deserted Jesus. Then Jesus turned to the Twelve and asked, “Are you also going to leave?” Simon Peter replied, “Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words that give eternal life. We believe, and we know you are the Holy One of God.”

Proverbs 3:5-8 Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. … Don’t be impressed with your own wisdom. Instead, fear the Lord and turn away from evil. Then you will have healing for your body and strength for your bones.

Many times during our daughter Karis’s thirty year history, I questioned and doubted that God knew and cared about what she was going through. It’s tough to watch your child in unrelenting pain and loss and to feel helpless to protect and provide for her and to ease her suffering.

God didn’t explain himself to me. The consistent message I received was that I was free to walk away from him. But then I wouldn’t know his Presence, his comfort, or his guidance. I would likely become angry and bitter, and miss his many, many good gifts along the way. Life would become hollow and hopeless. I would be a mess emotionally and have little to offer to my family.

Even if we walk away from the Lord in our tough times, he will never leave us Shutterstock: Mike Ver Sprill

This passage from John is theologically complex. I’m not going to get into that. What stands out to me is how easy it is to doubt God and walk away from him when something happens that we don’t understand.Have you had this experience?

I know that many people, including myself, are tempted by this kind of despair right now, as events and decrees across our country threaten the wellbeing of people we love in myriad ways. Yesterday I talked with a friend who said, “They are deliberately trying to exterminate people like me.” She has solid justification for this deep fear. If Karis were still alive, I would have the same fear for her life.

What do we do with this kind of distress? “Bandaid” answers don’t help, like “Don’t worry; everything will be OK” or “Just trust God—obviously you’re anxious because you don’t have enough faith.” All they do is show the one in distress you want out—you don’t want to feel what she feels. These responses make the one in fear feel more isolated and alone than they already were.

How can we respond? First, listen deeply to our own hearts and to others. Then, acknowledge our distress to God. Tell him exactly how we feel and why. Entrust our fears to the Lord. Ask him to take our burden of fear and anxiety, as he has already done on the cross. Open our hearts to receive his peace, peace that doesn’t depend on understanding our circumstances, but rather, on trusting him and his love for us. And do this again, every time fear and anxiety stir in us once more. Several times a day if needed.

The things we fear can actually happen. Our faith does not make us immune. Jesus assures us that we will not walk through tough times alone. He has promised to walk with us, to bear our burdens, to NEVER leave or forsake us. That’s what we depend on. We may not understand what we’re going through. But our Lord does understand us and how much we need his presence with us, his encouragement and his strength.

We are not alone. Even in dark valleys where nothing seems to make sense.

Would you like to get well?

But Jesus looks deeper Lent 2025 question #5

I’m writing to you today from the wonderful city of Bogotá, Colombia. Dave and I are here along with 470 others from 23 countries for the Latin American Discipleship Summit, which Dave has been preparing for the whole last year. We would appreciate your prayers. If you want more information, please let me know!

John 5:5-7 A man lying there had been sick for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him and knew he had been ill for a long time, he asked the man, “Would you like to get well?” “I can’t, sir,” the sick man said.

This fifth one of our twenty questions for Lent from John’s gospel seems rhetorical at first. There’s only one possible answer. Of course he would want to get well. Right?

The man didn’t answer Jesus’s question. He knew his situation was impossible, so what did it matter what he wanted? He had long since given up giving credit to his own desires. He had settled into life as a victim of his circumstances. In certain ways—the specifics aren’t clarified for us (see verse 14)—he had abdicated maturity.

Sometimes giving up on our desires is appropriate. I was amused yesterday when, on an errand with me to the bank, wearing a tutu, my granddaughter Talita informed the teller she wanted to be a ballerina when she grew up. The teller asked her whether she was taking ballet lessons. Talita said, “No, my mom hasn’t found ballet lessons for me. So, I think instead, I want to be an artist. My brother is teaching me.”

At age just-turned-five, Talita’s desires are fluid. She has time to try out all kinds of different aspirations. At this point in my life, though, I’m asking myself what desires I’ve given up on, desires that I once believed God had given me but seem, at age 70, impossible. Perhaps they are. Perhaps it’s time to bite the bullet and admit my limitations.

But to do so in a healthy way, I think I need to answer Jesus’s question—What do I want?—before leaping to the impossibilities. And of course, linked to the question of what I want is the question of what God wants. If he wants me to fulfill one of my dreams, nothing is impossible. The real question becomes, “Am I willing to pay the price to accomplish this? Am I prepared to do my part?”

The man Jesus healed had to face huge adjustments after thirty-eight years as an invalid. He had to learn how to be a responsible adult. How to care for himself. How to navigate peer relationships in which he was no longer a victim but a survivor.

God can be trusted to do his part. Am I prepared to do mine?

Seeing is believing

But Jesus stretches us Lent question #4

John 4:47-50 [A government official’s son was very sick.] When he heard that Jesus had come from Judea to Galilee, he went and begged Jesus to come to Capernaum to heal his son, who was about to die. Jesus asked, “Will you never believe in me unless you see miraculous signs and wonders?” The official pleaded, “Lord, please come now before my little boy dies.” Then Jesus told him, “Go back home. Your son will live!” And the man believed what Jesus said and started home.

John 20:27-29 Jesus said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and look at my hands. Put your hand into the wound in my side. Don’t be faithless any longer. Believe!”

1 Peter 1:8 You love him even though you have never seen him. Though you do not see him now, you trust him; and you rejoice with a glorious, inexpressible joy.

First signs of Spring! Its here!!

Karis was in high school, missing as many school days at her school in Brazil as she was able to attend, increasingly hampered by severe symptoms of bowel dysfunction. Her doctor in the U.S. retired. (Retired! Didn’t he understand how much we depended on him?!) His partner refused to take on Karis’s care, along with a disheartening parade of Brazilian doctors.

And I failed the faith test. When Dr. P disappeared from our lives, I felt like GOD disappeared. I felt abandoned and alone. Because I couldn’t see God caring for Karis, I struggled with belief. For months.

By then, every member of our family was deeply immersed in our life in Brazil. And even if I did take Karis to the U.S., where would I take her? If the doctor who knew Karis best—Dr. P’s partner—thought her case was too perplexing for him, what hope was there that anyone else would take her on? She didn’t have the energy to travel around the U.S. trying to find a doctor who could understand her unique situation. Many people prayed for her healing. Nothing changed.

As I grew more discouraged, it seemed Karis’s faith grew stronger. She trusted her Father, and experienced the joy Peter describes. She gamely visited yet one more physician in São Paulo, submitted to the exams, listened courteously to one more doctor tell her he couldn’t help her, and on the way home did her best to comfort me.

So, I feel great empathy for both the official in John 4 and for Thomas. And eventually, like Thomas, I was able to hear and respond to Jesus telling me, “Don’t be faithless any longer. Believe!”

Remembering that experience strengthened me for later faith challenges—and heightened my appreciation of the times God generously let me see him at work. Pure mercy.

Hiding in plain sight

But Jesus asked, “Do you believe this because I saw you?”

John 1:47-50 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!” 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.”

“I see you!” or “I found you!” my granddaughter shouts gleefully. Then it’s her turn to hide, and at age two, she’s not expert in concealing herself. Part of my role is pretending to look in multiple places, detailing my “search” aloud, before I “find” her. A bit younger, she thought that if she couldn’t see me, if her eyes were closed or covered, I couldn’t see her.

Three of our littles, resting after an intense game of hide and seek

“’Hiding’ from God is like this,” I muse. “Even if I want to, I can’t actually hide from him, physically, emotionally, or spiritually.”

If you’ve seen the episode about Nathanael in Season 1 of The Chosen, you remember his turmoil and grief as he sat under that fig tree. In such a moment of despair, doesn’t each of us long to be truly seen, fully understood? There is so much more going on here than physical sight. Jesus sees Nathanael from a great distance, yes. But more than seeing his body, Jesus sees his heart, his soul, his desperate need.

As I’ve thought about Jesus’ earlier question, “What do you want?” highlighted in Monday’s blog, I realized this is what I want most, to be seen by the Lord. And to clearly see him. In all the complexity of life, all the competing desires and motivations, confusion of judgment and action, to be seen and to see truly, to be understood and to understand, feels to me right now to be the greatest gift I could ever desire.

The words “see,” “seen,” “saw,” occur twelve times in John 1, along with many other vision words: light in darkness, recognize, glory, reveal(ed), testimony (eyewitness), look (or behold), find, found. “Come and see,” Jesus invites two men (v. 39), and what he showed them in a few hours—far beyond what they had asked, simply to know where he was staying—convinced Andrew that Jesus was the Christ, the Messiah, the Anointed One for whom every faithful Jew had been waiting for their entire lives, for hundreds of years.

John states explicitly why he wrote his Gospel, some three decades after Matthew, Mark, and Luke had written theirs: “so that you may believe [continue to believe] that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing in him you will have life by the power of his name” (20:31).

John’s book is crafted with this purpose in mind, from the first chapter to the twenty-first. I’m intrigued by the names of Jesus John records in chapter one. He is the Word (the Logos, the source and expression of all creation). The true light. The unique One. Consistent with his prophetic insight, John the Baptist calls him the Lamb of God and the Chosen One of God. Andrew tells Simon Peter he has found the Messiah, the Christ.

And in the last few verses of the chapter, John offers us this sequential revelation:

Philip calls Jesus the son of Joseph (v. 45).

(Not quite right, Philip, but good try. True, he’s the adopted son of Joseph.)

Nathanael calls Jesus the Son of God (v. 49).

Amazing for him to recognize this on first meeting Jesus.

Jesus calls himself the Son of Man (v. 51).

For a long time, I’ve puzzled over why “Son of Man” is Jesus’ favorite name for himself. I think now I kind of get it, in an awestruck kind of way. I’m writing a book that is largely set in Heaven. From Heaven’s point of view, the Son has always been Son within the holy Trinity. What is new, incredible, too remarkable to be contained in words, is that the Son of God became a son of mankind, born of a human mother, taking on our humanity, laying aside his glory—too bright for human eyes—so that, in the fullness of the Spirit, he can reveal God to us. Truly, for Nathanael to understand the meaning of “Son of Man” is a “greater thing” for him (and for us) to see (v. 50).

Like when I drive around a corner and a rising or setting sun shines straight into my eyes, I’m blinded to anything else and must shield my eyes to be able to see anything else and drive safely. Jesus shields his glory as Son of God within his human body so that we can look at him and understand the Father.

The name “Son of Man” references the miracle of incarnation, a turn of events the angels could never have imagined. John’s sequence of increasing revelation makes sense. And leaves me with goosebumps.

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).

So, do you believe? Has John’s purpose in writing this Gospel already impacted your life? If so, what have you seen and understood of Jesus that led to this belief?

Or is it the case that he sees you, hiding in plain sight?

Twenty questions

But Jesus asked, “What do you want?”

John 1:35-38 The following day [after his baptism by John the Baptist] John was again standing with two of his disciples. As Jesus walked by, John looked at him and declared, “Look! There is the Lamb of God! When John’s two disciples heard this, they followed Jesus. Jesus looked around and saw them following. “What do you want?” he asked them.

Have you played the game Twenty Questions? When I was a child, my siblings and I entertained ourselves on long car trips playing this. A person thinks of an object, and the others try to guess it through asking fewer than twenty questions. The first question is, “Animal, vegetable, or mineral?” to narrow the field.

Jesus’ first question of two men following him also narrowed the field. They could have responded a zillion ways to the question, “What do you want?”

What do you want?

If Jesus showed up in your living room today asking this question, what would you answer?

Jesus is still, two thousand years later, asking this question. I invite you to take a few minutes to respond. And even to write down your answer. Think about it now. What do you really, really want?

Next time, I’ll share a few of my responses. I would love for you to share too.

A call and response for the beginning of Lent

But God’s love knows no bounds

Hosea 14

[Hosea says]

Return, my people, to the Lord your God

For your sins have brought you down.

Bring your confessions and return to the Lord.

Say to him, “Forgive all our sins and graciously receive us,

So that we may offer you our praises.

The Lord says,

Then I will heal you of your faithlessness;

My love will know no bounds,

For my anger will be gone forever.

I will be to my people like a refreshing dew from heaven.

My people will blossom like the lily; it will send roots deep into the soil.

Shutterstock: Damian Lugowski

O my people, stay away from idols!

I am the one who answers your prayers and cares for you.

I am like a tree that is always green;

All your fruit comes from me.

Let those who are wise understand these things.

Let those with discernment listen carefully.

The paths of the Lord are true and right,

And righteous people live by walking in them.

Run!!

But God holds out his arms to us March 7, 2024

Psalm 103:9-10 God will not constantly accuse us or remain angry forever. He does not punish us for all our sins; he does not deal harshly with us, as we deserve.

Tomorrow we’ll be halfway through Lent! How’s it going for you? Here’s my Lenten calendar so far:

Litany of Penitence 6:

For our dishonesty in daily life and work,

Our ingratitude for your gifts and our failure to heed your call.

Lord, have mercy upon us:

For we have sinned against you.

Tuesday my daughter arrived home from her work as a wound care and ostomy nurse just as I was leaving after babysitting her two young children. I wish I had a photo of Talita running as fast as she could into her mother’s arms—and then repeating it with her dad when he came out from his home office to greet his wife. Radiant joy!

What a vision of our Father/Mother God! (Take a look some time at the female images for God in Scripture, both Old Testament and New.) It didn’t matter at all that Talita had needed a time out earlier for not “heeding my call.” She was so confident of her parents’ love that all sadness melted away in their embrace.

Can you picture God reaching out his arms to embrace you and whirl you around in pure delight?

When I was a child, we sang this song at my boarding school. I had fun finding and singing it again. I’ll include the lyrics.

Day by Day, by Carolina Sandell Berg, written after the death of her father

Day by day, and with each passing moment,
Strength I find to meet my trials here;
Trusting in my Father’s wise bestowment,
I’ve no cause for worry or for fear.
He, whose heart is kind beyond all measure,
Gives unto each day what He deems best,
Lovingly its part of pain and pleasure,
Mingling toil with peace and rest.

Every day the Lord Himself is near me,
With a special mercy for each hour;
All my cares He fain would bear and cheer me,
He whose name is Counsellor and Pow’r.
The protection of His child and treasure
Is a charge that on Himself He laid;
“As thy days, thy strength shall be in measure,”
This the pledge to me He made.

Help me then, in every tribulation,
So to trust Thy promises, O Lord,
That I lose not faith’s sweet consolation,
Offered me within Thy holy Word.
Help me, Lord, when toil and trouble meeting,
E’er to take, as from a father’s hand,
One by one, the days, the moments fleeting,
Till I reach the promised land.