Whom Jesus Loves

Our blog today comes courtesy of Kristyn Kidney, a lover of words and of Jesus!

COME

Come. You are invited out of your hurry, out of your content-saturated day, out of your to-do-list that never runs out of urgency. Ready yourself to slow down. Come. Recline comfortably as one who belongs here. I mean get really comfortable. Set down your awkwardness, your uncertainty, and all the noisy expectations for you. Come in and rest assured you belong here at this table and in this story. This is for you.

Sea of Galilee

Would you gaze at Galilee? See the sea water reflecting midday sun, hear the waves splashing at the shore, feel the breeze on your face and the stones beneath your sandaled toes. Picture Jesus just standing here talking with those two wild sons of Zebedee and Salome. He’s talking to James and his younger brother, John—sons of thunder, everyone called them. What might Jesus be saying to those two? Surprisingly enough, Jesus is saying, “Come.”

John the Younger Thunder

We know a few things about John. He was a fisherman from a family of fishermen. He no doubt knew the ropes of the family business. He would have been netted into the webbing of hard work, heavy responsibilities, and expectations. He would have been familiar with the hazards of navigating storms on the sea and in the thunderous family ties. He was the younger brother and usually mentioned second after his older brother, James.

Many things made up the identity of John. But notice this, when John refers to himself, he repeatedly uses the phrase “the disciple whom Jesus loved.” The use of the English article “the” can be confusing there. He is not saying that Jesus did not love the other disciples. It is not an exclusionary reference; it is an inclusionary one. He is making an identity statement. In a sense, he is saying, “If you want to know anything about me, you should know this—Jesus loves me.”

John the Invited

John first met Jesus on that fishy shore of Galilee, and Jesus invited him. The invitation was simple, “Come. Follow me.” This offer came with just two things—heaps of ambiguity and the presence of Jesus. John took the offer.  In doing so, he left much behind. He laid down nets, plans, certainty, and all the markings of a prescribed identity. He picked up instead a new identity—someone learning from Jesus, someone being transformed by Jesus, and most of all someone Jesus loves.

I wonder, though, were there times it felt like he was a lesser disciple than his older brother? Were there times it felt like he didn’t belong as much as the other disciples? They were all likely older than he was, some were more educated, and others were more experienced at this or that. Were there times it felt like he was just accidently caught up in the net of his big brother’s invitation to follow Jesus, instead of really belonging in this fellowship?

I wonder if John’s heart beat a bit like ours and it needed to be reassured over and over again. I wonder if John repeatedly wrote that he was the disciple whom Jesus loved, because Jesus himself may have emphasized that very point to John. Did it take some time for John the younger brother, John a son of thunder, to transform into John the disciple confident of Jesus’ love?

John the Follower

John spent about 3 years traveling alongside Jesus. He saw the wonders and signs, heard the teachings, and witnessed the transformative power of God at work among the crowds and disciples themselves. He must have noticed the divide between those who believed Jesus and those who resented Jesus. Still, John kept following. He kept following through storms, controversy, and uncertainty. He followed Jesus into Jerusalem as the crowds placed palm branches down, and he followed Jesus into the upper room.

John the Beloved

When it came time for their last supper together, Jesus washed John’s feet along with the other disciples. John 13 describes the scene. All the disciples were reclining, and John was leaning against Jesus. Can you see it? That’s John. It’s not just John the youngest, or John the thunderous. That’s John the beloved—John the one who knew that Jesus loved him. On a night of immense tension, John was at rest. He was leaning on Jesus, secure in knowing Jesus loved him, secure in knowing he belonged.

The inclusion of this small detail about John’s leaning posture reveals something quite big. Jesus invites us to lean on him. Jesus is someone who says to you, “You belong. Come. Rest.” When the world is turning and churning beyond our control, when life is moving in ways we don’t like, when uncertainty permeates the very air we breathe, Jesus wants us to know, we are invited to lean on him and rest in his love.

You are invited to blow the dust of familiarity off and read this slowly:

Jesus          loves           you.

John the Caregiver

Jesus designated just 12 disciples to form his inner circle. There was a much larger and more diverse following of men and women who traveled with him, supported him, and learned from him, but the 12 were especially close. Of those 12, John is the only one mentioned as being present at the crucifixion. Where were the others? Were they present or were they hiding? Could they not bear to watch? We don’t know. But we do know that John was there. He kept on following Jesus. He followed Jesus all the way to the cross.

John 19:25-27 says,

but standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son!” Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home.

How did John bear it? Was it, perhaps, the security of Jesus’ love that gave him the strength to be present here? Was it perhaps his transformed identity as one who belongs that compelled him to keep following all the way to the cross? Was it, perhaps, his confidence in who Jesus really is that empowered him to care for others while his own heart was shaking? Do you see it? The disciple whom Jesus loved had been so transformed by the love of Jesus, he could show up and love even here.

John the Writer

It seems to me that John’s background as a fisherman likely did not include formal studies in writing or composition. Yet, he went on to write five books of the New Testament. His works have been studied by scholars and appreciated by a global audience over generations. After witnessing the resurrection of Jesus Christ, the disciples went to work sharing the story, ministering to people far and wide. Eventually, John the youngest disciple became John the last remaining disciple. John was exiled to the island of Patmos, where he continued to minister by writing an account of all that he had seen and heard.

I John 1:3-4

that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed, our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. And we are writing these things so that our joy may be complete.

Here we find John writing to us, to you and me. We are invited. Come. You belong in the fellowship. You belong in the love of Jesus, where you can lean and rest on him. John, the disciple Jesus loved, wrote that for you. How incredible that he wrote about love and belonging from a place of exile. He wrote his account knowing his fellow disciples had died as martyrs. And yet, he wrote this invitation with complete joy. John knew the love of Jesus. That’s who he was.

Patmos, Greece

COME AGAIN

In this story, we find elements of our own stories. We, too, are invited to follow Jesus, to have our own identity transformed, and to find love and belonging as we lean on Jesus. What does it mean for us to accept this invitation? What might it look like for you to drop down your entanglements and follow Jesus? What could it feel like for you to lean in and rest comfortably secure in the love of Jesus? You could ask him. You might just discover what John discovered: that you are truly and deeply beloved.