It’s easy for Christians to fall into a rut: Church is a thing you do, prayer is a box to check, and faith seems far from “the real world.” This fall we let Jesus himself confront our ruts. “Do you believe this?” he asks (Jn. 11:26).
To believe in Jesus is to experience him. It’s more than logic, argument, and doctrine. It is intimate knowledge of God himself. This fall, let Jesus himself speak to you in his seven “I AM” statements in the gospel of John. How is he changing you? What response is he inspiring in you? To believe in him changes everything.
Invocation
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Ponder:
Today we ponder the I AM statement: “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.” What things does our world hunger and thirst for? What longings do you have in your life right now? Ponder how Jesus is the Bread of Life, and how he satisfies all our unmet longing.
Word
John 10:6
“Jesus used this figure of speech, but the Pharisees did not understand what he was telling them.”
Meditation: Kept Safe by Susan Becher Schultz
There’s a certain artistry to fall. The sun shines golden through trees, illuminating the leaves as they begin to bleed red and yellow and orange. There is no longer that rushing energy so closely tied with summer, but instead an open invitation to take leisurely strolls and pull a chair up to a bonfire. Sooner than we want, winter will blow in, beckoning us to hibernate until spring. But for now, we revel in the cool nights and warm days, where it feels like magic instead of anxiety fills the air.
This is the kind of weather that inspires, the kind that makes me want to open a book of poetry or listen to indie records, something that takes several rereads or listens until it begins to sink in. It’s this type of art that makes me want to think about it over and over again, until it resonates on every level of consciousness. Something that doesn’t make sense right away, but when it does, it becomes a part of me.
I read John 10 over and over again today, trying to find a personal connection to any piece of it. I focused on John 10:5 first, hoping as I began to write it would resonate. It wasn’t only half-way through my first draft that I realized John 10:6 held the connection I was searching for.
“Jesus used this figure of speech, but the Pharisees did not understand what he was telling them.”
Jesus attempts to paint a beautiful picture of salvation to the Pharisees, using metaphoric language that goes right over their heads. I imagine them looking at one another, then back at Jesus as if he is completely insane. I also imagine Jesus sighing, only to explain it in more simple terms for them.
However, I think Jesus does this intentionally. Modern-day Christians continue to struggle with tenets of Christianity, salvation included. I think he knew that most of us learn best through stories, which are an artform of their own. Jesus wasn’t catering his story for the Pharisees, but knew what words his people needed to hear. There is a running thread of danger in this passage as Jesus references strangers, thieves, and robbers. Yet he illustrates himself as the shepherd, the gatekeeper, and the gate. John 10:9 can be translated as “whoever enters through me will be saved” OR “whoever enters through me will be kept safe.”
His words in this passage take time to sink in, to resonate. It’s a peaceful picture he paints, which I think is important to note. It is not an illustration of a muscular superhero, rescuing his people from a burning hell-fire. It’s an everyday shepherd, leading his sheep, allowing them to come and go, checking in to make sure each one is safe in the field.
As I reread the passage, it’s no wonder the Pharisees didn’t understand. Art rarely makes much sense on the first look or listen. Especially to a group of people who valued the law over the gospel. But he left us with words we can sit with now, in the present. A sense of safety we can carry with us, and a picture of salvation we can paint ourselves into.
Dear Lord, thank you for referring to yourself as a shepherd who keeps us safe, instead of an overpowering ruler or a one-dimensional hero. Remind us of your gentle love for us as we contemplate the meaning of your carefully chosen words. Amen.
Prayer
Jesus, you said, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.” In this world, I am always longing for more. Satisfy my deepest hunger, not only for physical nourishment. I long to be fulfilled and joyful. I find that only in you. So be the true bread of my life, and fill me up. Amen.
Benediction
May the grace of the Lord Jesus sanctify us and keep us from all evil; may he drive far from us all hurtful things; may he bind us to himself by the bond of love, and may his peace abound in our hearts. Amen.