New Thoughts (06/21/12-06/25/12)
It’s interesting to me just how much meaning is packed into some of the smallest words in the language. In this passage, there are two little words which are of particular interest to me: in and of. Jesus begins this section saying that He is speaking in the world. While there is a possible sense of rest to be heard in the word in, that is not the idea to hold onto in this case. Rather, it is the idea of being in the midst of, among. Jesus is no longer in the world, as He said back in John 17:11. Isn’t that something? Even as He stands praying, or perhaps He sits, He is in a room in Jerusalem with His disciples around Him, and the Romans, the Jews and the others in surrounding streets and buildings; He says, “I am no more in the world.”
Is it that He is become unmoored in time – that past, present and future are become as one to Him? I think not. Is it that He is either physically or mentally departed already, and therefore the situation around Him has no particular meaning to Him any longer? No, for here in verse 13 He says that He speaks (present tense) in the world. Rather I suggest that in verse 11, what He is getting at is that He is no longer at rest here. His time for remaining in the world is fast running down, and His departure back to His natural home is imminent. The main point of verse 11 is that He is leaving but they are staying. He is no longer at rest in this earthbound human condition, but they are.
Coming to verse 13, the sense of the term is different. Now, it is speaking amidst. While I’m still here, I am speaking in a fashion fit to be heard and understood here. It’s rather along the lines of what He was saying outside the grave when He raised Lazarus. I needn’t speak aloud, Father, for You always hear. But, these need to hear it, so that they may believe. Likewise in this case. What He prays aloud, He does not pray aloud for His own aggrandizement. He is not glorifying Himself after the manner of the Pharisees praying their street corner prayers. Neither is He praying aloud because God is deaf to our inner thoughts. He is praying aloud for one reason only: That His disciples might hear in His prayers sound reason to partake of His joy. And that, He prays, they shall partake of in full.
My joy made full in them. There it is again, that little word! Here, I begin to feel that sense of being at rest again, of remaining. His joy, the joy they ought to receive in what He is now saying, is not a temporary elation, an emotional high. That is an error of man’s making, that we have too often made of faith something so weak as an emotional high. But, Jesus is praying about something more profound. He is praying about His joy, not theirs. He is praying about His perception of His followers, not their self-esteem. He is praying about something constant, something that remains, not about some fleeting excitement induced by what He happens to be praying just now. I speak that they might find that My own joy rests permanently within them, upon them, that they might know beyond all shadow of doubt that this is so: That whatever may come, however they may stumble, My joy in them is unchanging. That’s a powerful in right there!
Then we switch to of. They – we – are not of the world. We once were, but no more! That possibility of meaning is there in the word. Once together, but now separated. We are not in the world in the sense of being part and parcel of its nature. We were. We are the product of the world at least in so much as it is our place of origin. But, we are separated now. We have been brought out of that. The world, for us, is a state out of which we’ve departed. We are no longer the same. We were born into the world, fully partaking in its fallen state and its fallen ways. But, we were reborn. We died to that former life to become members of a new life, children of a different lineage. That’s what Jesus is stressing here. We’re still here in this place, just as He was here in this place for a season. But, we are not of this place. We are no longer the product of the world’s fallen nature. Its nature is not our nature. Its habits and customs are not our habits and customs. We are born into a heavenly family, in which our eldest brother is pleased indeed to count us as kin. His joy remains in us in full.
Thus, we have the repeated point: they are no more the product of this world than I am. He states this in verse 14, and repeats it almost verbatim in verse 16. That repetition ought suggest to us the importance of what He is saying. Indeed, it is a repeating motif in this passage that we do well to focus attention on: As I, so they. It is intriguing indeed to note what is encompassed by these two repetitions. Sandwiched in between these notices that His followers are no product of the world is the first of His requests on their behalf, and it comes with a striking disclaimer. “I do not ask You to take them out of the world.” It’s that same ek but with a different sense. For, while we are not of the world in the ek sense of being the natural produce of its order, we are in the world, in its midst. And, it is this which Jesus insists remain the case in that He does not ask that God change the situation. Now, praise be to God that there is that request attached, that He Himself would keep us, guard us, keep keen watch over us, so as to protect us from the dark aspirations of the evil one.
It might seem odd that Jesus, who is no longer in the world, would yet insist that we remain so. But, in truth, it is another part of that as I so they motif. In verse 18, He says, “As You sent Me, I sent them.” And, where was He sent? Into the world. Now, we have eis. I would note the very near relationship between this term and the hen of unity for which Jesus prays in verse 21. There is, perhaps, a sense that to move into a thing is to become one with it, just as in moving out of or from that thing, one has become separated from that of which he used to be a part. I don’t know that we ought to read quite so much significance into this, but is rather intriguing to see the three terms used almost simultaneously in describing our situation as concerns the world. We are not of it, yet we are in it, because we were sent into it.
Isn’t that something? We were sent in, and yes, we might consider that there is a sense of becoming united in our sending. We are not sent in so as to keep ourselves cloistered away from their contaminating effect upon us. Rather we are sent to contaminate, to be leaven in a positive sense, to permeate the whole and cause it to ferment into holiness, rather than to be corrupted into sinfulness. That unity is clearly not a universal goal. We do not become one with everybody, hand in hand with believer and nonbeliever alike as if God didn’t really matter at all. No! That’s nonsense. Even Jesus set bounds on His mission and His prayer. “I don’t ask for all, but for those whom You give Me” (Jn 17:9). The goal is to unite all those who are His, to pull the family together from where it’s been scattered. That suggests a striking image, doesn’t it? That final day, when we are ushered into the Banquet of the Lamb, is indeed a wedding feast. It is also, however, a family reunion. It will be the first and last gathering together of all the saints, the entire family of God in one place to rejoice in one another and more importantly, in Him through Whom we are made family.
But, let me return to that into matter, for it really is the crux of what Jesus is praying, the crux of His ministry. As I was sent, I sent. The mission that was Mine is now theirs, for I have trained them, commissioned them, and now assign them to that purpose. They, in turn, will do as I have done, just as I have done what You have done. They will train those who come after themselves, commission them, send them into the same purpose. And so it continues down through the ages. The idea of apostolic succession is not entirely wrong, just a bit overblown in some circles. What is important is not the official title. What is important is the mission. What is that mission? As I discussed in the previous study, it is the very same mission Jesus Himself came to accomplish: To save the world.
I was actually rather heartened to notice that the same connection I had felt was brought out in the footnotes of the NET. To understand the sending of verse 18, we go back to John 3:17: I came not to judge but to save. We, too, are sent not to judge, but to save. As Jesus, so we. Same mission. Same methods. Same heart. That is, I believe, the reason we find Jesus immediately segueing into a prayer for unity – unity not of surface and appearance, but a real unity.
I am rather skipping about in my thoughts, and largely ignoring the outlined plan I had for these notes. So it goes. Every now and again we find motions in the Church to restore a unity between the denominations. We have seen it recently with the attempts to reunite Lutherism and Catholicism. Yet, in order for that reuniting to occur one or the other of those two branches must effectively deny its core tenets. Catholicism has not changed so very much, that Martin Luther would no longer find it necessary to face death rather than pretend he accepted their views. Yet, here we are, and his legacy find themselves willing to cast off the doctrines he established for the sake of mere appearance. We’d like the world to think that we agree, that we serve the same God and believe the same things. We don’t, or if we do, then we don’t really understand the doctrines of the church to which we belong (which would hardly be surprising). But, the world laughs at us for our moral stands, our insignificant (to them) philosophical disputes, and we’re tired of being ridiculed. Better we just go along to get along. It’s no longer PC to claim one has a handle on Truth. Really. Who believes in Truth anymore? Why should we allow such strong sentiments to divide us? We have enough to do combating the world around us without all this infighting.
The problem is, this stuff serves as evidence that the battle’s already been lost long since. The very fact that we’re in a battle with the world is an issue. That wasn’t the mission. The mission was to save, not to denounce, not to judge. The mission was to impact the world, not try and be more and more like the world. So, we have a twofold failure here. The Church, in many of its corners, has ceased trying to show the world a better way and has instead tried to show the world that it’s not so very different. See? We’re folks just like you. C’mon in and make yourself comfortable. Let us entertain you. In other corners, we have lost sight of the real enemy and settled into combating the world. We’re not interested in converts. We’re interested in making sure y’all keep your distance. Indeed, there are those who get really combative about this, like that group out of Kansas, and make a wholly unchristian spectacle of themselves in the name of combating evil. You cannot combat evil by out-evilling it. You’d think that would be pretty obvious, but apparently not.
We have a real need to get back on mission. What’s the mission? To save. We cannot save the world by making ourselves utterly repulsive. Neither can we save the world by becoming just like it. What business has light with darkness? No, we save the world by demonstrating a sharply contrasting way of life. Let me clarify: We don’t differ for the sake of difference. We don’t flaunt our faith like some alternate lifestyle choice. But, neither do we accept some need to be like the crowd. Next, we do not judge. That’s not our job.
I have to tell you, this gets harder as one gets older! At least, I find it so. It is, perhaps, an inevitable part of the human experience that we arrive at the point of denouncing ‘kids these days’. Them with their distended earlobes and self-inflicted wounds. Ugly is in, clearly, but I’m having none of that. It gets harder and harder to remember our own past desire to shock and scare the world around us. Why, I would not want to be on the same street with a kid like the kid I was. Ah, but then, that kid was of this world. I am not. See, this is the thing we have to remember. This is the thing Paul reminds his readers about. You were just like that at one time! You were just as scary, just as hopeless, just as determined to be as evil as you could be (1Co 6:11). But, that was before you were washed, sanctified and justified by the power of the Lord Jesus Christ and the Spirit of our God! It’s different now! Well, if this is true of you, what prevents it being true for them? If you were not hopeless, why suppose they are? If they are in truth children of God such as yourself, how can you stand the thought of failing them, failing to point them towards their true home? Save them! They’re your family! What sort of creature would not make the attempt? What kind of man would leave his own siblings to burn, seeing he is safe himself? Even the world around you condemns such a one, and so do you.
We have a mission – the same mission as Jesus. I asked myself, in considering the significance of this mission, whether it really informs my daily activities as it should. I have to confess I find myself wanting. No. By and large I am apparently satisfied to have my own assurance. That is a scary realization, for it brings into question the validity of that assurance. If you love Me, you will keep My commands. That is what my Lord said. My Lord: He Who has right to command me, He whom I most certainly must obey if I would call Him Lord. I must notice that He did not say, “If you are My servant, do as I say.” He said, “If you love Me…”. It is an evidence. It is not a prerequisite, for there can be no prerequisite for grace. But where grace abounds, and not hallucinations, this loving obedience must surely abound as well. If I have been sent on a mission, how is it that I spend so little time pursuing that mission? How is it that I am busy saving myself, a thing I haven’t the least hope of accomplishing, rather than speaking out the Truth of the One Who already saved me?
It is one thing to seek ways to excuse my inattention to this during working hours, perhaps. After all, even Paul had his occasional employments outside of church planting. Yet, even here, there is the opportunity to plant, isn’t there? The only reason we don’t consider it is because we have been conditioned not to. There are ways to treat the workplace as mission field without failing when it comes to working for our bosses as for the Lord. Clearly, if we are spending hours of paid time in proselytizing, we are failing not only our employers but also our Lord Himself. This is not His way, and it ought not to be ours. But, we have breaks. We have mealtimes. We have, perhaps, social contact with coworkers beyond the workplace. It is also entirely possible that we have time for so-called idle chat even while working, depending on the nature of our work. In short, there are opportunities to serve Christ more directly even in this setting, if we are willing to search them out.
Even in that thought, I see I have proceeded into the other. There remains the vast swath of time during which we are not actively pursuing employment. There are neighborhoods in which we live and walk. There are stores in which we shop. There are events we may attend, and any other of ways in which we spend our time in the world. Here, there is far less excuse to be so wrapped up in our own pursuits that we fail to even consider God’s pursuits. That’s the real issue in a nutshell. We are so wrapped up in ourselves, even as we seek to live a Christian life, that we fail to consider what God set us here for.
There is that passage which speaks of how God prepares these good works for us to do. He sets us up to succeed as He measures success. Yet, if we are not paying attention to His purposes and desires, what comes of it? We fail. We see the opportunity only in retrospect, only as one more thing to kick ourselves for. For my own part, I am really at something of a loss to know what to do about it other than to pray. How shall I repent of that which I know myself incapable of changing? This is perhaps a larger question. How can one repent in earnest if repentance consists of a heartfelt, conscientious change of direction? If sin is so innate in me that it can be said that I cannot help but sin, I cannot even manage the task of choosing the good, then how am I to change? I find no other recourse than to pray not only for forgiveness for that of which I seek to repent, but for the repentance itself.
Father, it is not in me, in my strength, to arrive at this new mindset that sees every moment as an opportunity to serve You. The desire is in me, yes. But, the doing? No. It is even as Your Son has said of us, the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. You know. Yet, I would that I were not as I am. I would that I found it a more desirable thing to speak of Your lovingkindness to those around me. I would that I might be willing to teach Your ways not only in the safety of the classroom but even in the more difficult places of real life. I would like to think that I have been getting better in terms of lifestyle evangelizing, that my example is suited to Your Truth. Yet, I know better. Even here, I fail too often. Even here, I am still too much about me and not enough about You. Father, I ask that You forgive me. I ask that You would not only forgive, but change me. Bring me to the place, Lord, where these things are not as foreign concepts, but rather part of who I am. I hear this in the prayer of Your Son, this desire that we be one not so much as the world around us counts unity, but rather in that essential, core of character and being way that You are One in Your persons. May I know that same unity of character for which You have prayed, that I might serve You more fully and more consistently with each passing day.
There is another aspect of this upon which I am pretty certain I’ve already touched. That is the fact that Jesus has not sought for us to be taken out of the world, removed from its midst. How easy that would make our path! So much simpler for us were we simply translated into heaven in the moment of our redemption. Boom! No more sorrow. No more sickness. No more failure. But, the mission does not allow of this.
Perhaps you’ve heard this asked, or even asked it yourself. Why must we remain in this place now that we see how it is? I think you can even hear some of that in the old church cry of, “Maranatha!” Come quickly, Lord, for this place stinks! There is no joy remaining in this walk, bring us home. Consider Paul’s internal debate as he expressed it to his flock. Whether to remain or depart is a dilemma. For me personally, to depart is far more to be desired. To be with Jesus this very day! How could I prefer anything else? But, for you, it is more needful that I remain, that I continue to disciple you. In short, the mission requires us to stay. There are yet others in this family of ours who wander lost amidst the pigsty of the earth, and we are tasked with their rescue. No, it’s not a rescue in our own power, but in the power of that One Who has rescued us. It’s a rescue by speaking out, by shining the Light, by speaking the Truth.
“As I was sent, so I have sent them.” That’s why. That’s the very simple reason why we are not simply whisked off as soon as we are cleansed. If the very Son of God was not spared this tension, this misery of being, why would we expect better treatment? Do we still suppose the slave greater than the master? But, no. We are left in the world. We are not left thus as some cruel joke, but to a very definite purpose, that we, too, might seek and save the lost. And, in so doing, we might even experience the joy of having been found useful to our King.
In this regard, we are particularly well suited to our task. I am mindful of that which is written of our High Priest, Jesus the Christ of God. He came, it is said, and suffered all those very same temptations and trials that we suffer through, yet without sin. He came in order that He might better sympathize with us and assist us as our Advocate, for knowing what we go through. Thus, “we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin” (Heb 4:15).
As we serve this High Priest, our own past serves to equip us for our present, our future. I already touched on Paul’s comment to the Corinthians, but let me revisit it. Some of you were just like them before you were washed, sanctified and justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God (1Co 6:11). I would push it further, myself, and say it was all of us. The only variation is in the matter of degree. How fully did we participate in the world? How long did we remain in the mire before God so kindly pulled us out? But, see: If He could pull us out, who can we point to in our surroundings that remains for some reason beyond His reach? There is reason for Paul to have pointed to himself as being the chiefest of sinners. If he could be forgiven for his direct and intentional persecutions of the faithful and made instead a most powerful servant of the cross, which of his fellows could he be so contemptuous of as to deem beyond redemption? None!
This is at least a part of the reason we are forever reminded to humble ourselves. If we will learn to look upon ourselves as grave sinners we will regain the capacity to marvel at God’s declaration of our righteousness. We get too comfortable with that declaration and we become what the Brits would call righteous prigs. God would simply call us self-righteous. It’s in us. It’s certainly in me. I am very capable of exalting myself, even though I know the great evil of doing so. I’m saved, after all! Look at me! God loves me. You, He’s apparently not so fond of. I must be something special. But, Scripture rejects such thinking, and I must, too, as often as it arises. It must not just be rejected, but forcibly squashed, crushed under foot and allowed no further opportunity to speak. No. I have nothing of which to boast, except in my Savior. Of Him I may boast, and ought do so willingly and with abandon. For, even though I am yet as I find myself, yet He has loved me. He has loved me not because I am something wonderful. Far from it! Yet, because He has loved me, I have that most certain hope that in some day to come, I shall be something wonderful. For, I shall be made to resemble Him, one with Him, with every last vestige of this sinful present once for all removed.
In the meantime, there remains that desire that arises to really separate out of this world. How nice it would be, we think, to live in a community where all our neighbors were already among the elect. Indeed, visiting Virginia a few weeks back, the closer resemblance to that state was noteworthy. How pleasant to be among coworkers for whom church attendance was not the exception but rather the norm. How pleasant to find others praying over breakfast in the morning, to be in a place where praying over the meal even in a restaurant did not seem awkwardly out of place, unexpected and a bit unnerving to the staff.
I hear the occasional suggestion, even from quite respected men of the church, that such considerations ought to guide our choices when we consider where to purchase our homes, the towns we live in, the neighborhoods, and such. Why, of course we ought to surround ourselves with fellow believers. Their reinforcement will make our own walk that much easier to maintain with consistency. But, is that the point? I cannot see that it is, if I look at this call honestly. Go back just a few verses in 1 Corinthians, and see what our friend Paul has to say. Don’t suppose that I am telling you to avoid all contact with the immoral of this world. You know: The covetous, the swindlers, the idolaters and such. Face it! To do so, you would have to depart the world entirely (1Co 5:10)! No! What I wrote about breaking such associations pertains to those who claim to be in Christ and yet persist in these pursuits as their way of life (shall we say, the social Christian). When it comes to them: Don’t even share a meal with them (1Co 5:11). But, always, there’s that later reminder – recall that you were just like them in your own day. Don’t get all haughty about it. It’s not a mark of pride, a matter of exerting your purity as the Pharisees were wont to do. It’s about denying them their false flag brand of Christianity. It’s about refusing to allow the shame they bring upon Jesus to be spread by the apparent approval of your association with them.
Recall John’s letter, when it came to those who polluted the church by their efforts. “Don’t even greet such a one, let alone inviting them into your home” (2Jn 10). Why? Because you, my friend, have a reputation as belonging to Jesus. Those who look to you for an example, seeing you welcome the likes of these liars, will see it as a stamp of approval on their character and their teaching. Do not allow any such false misconceptions even so small a chance! Reject them and reject them utterly. Yet, always viewing them as a fresh mission field, never as beyond redemption. They are enemies only so long as God chooses not to make them brothers. We must ever be about the effort of making brothers unless God delivers a particularly clear and undeniable command that this one is to be forever condemned. Think Judas. I cannot readily think of any other. Perhaps Esau? But, even there, I seem to recall a passage hinting at redemption, at least for his progeny. At any rate, it is clearly the exception rather than the rule that God ever points out the likes of a Judas and instructs His own to make no further efforts on that one’s behalf.
One other theme running through this part of Jesus’ prayer is that of sanctifying. He calls upon God to sanctify those who belong to Him in the Truth. What does that mean? One sense of the term pertains to purification and cleansing, in the ceremonial sense. It is a washing away of sin’s guilt, a soulish purification. Interesting, isn’t it, that this is achieved in the Truth? It is not a false hope. It is not a glossing over. It is a reality that the guilt, the very real guilt, which bore us down has been lifted from us, cast away never to return. This is our story because that sin has been fully atoned for, not by us but by Jesus our Redeemer. He has purified us. Yet, it is He Who calls upon God’s Truth as the source of this sanctification, and where are we to seek out His Truth, or to be sought out by His Truth? In the Word. “Thy word is truth.” I’m not sure where the accent should be placed on that statement. My tendency is to hear it with is emphasized. Thy word is the truth that sanctifies those who abide in it. Of course, we also understand that John particularly felt that connection that Jesus is the Word.
Yet, it would have seemed particularly arrogant to say, “Sanctify them in Me.” That is the reality, yet to speak it does not present humility. Is that why there is this bit of circumlocution? Or, is Jesus really just making the connection more solid. Sanctify them in truth, truth being Your Word, and Your Word became flesh in Me. The whole must be held as one. It is in Christ, through Christ, by Christ, that we are purified and cleansed. It is by the power of Christ, in the Holy Spirit, that we are able to become a peopled truly dedicated to God. And, this, too, is bound up in that topic of sanctification: Dedicated to God. Seat apart for His use exclusively.
Think of those materials that made up the incense used in the temple. Those materials, in and of themselves, were relatively common items. They may have been items of wealth, some of them, but they were common enough. Yet, when combined in that one specific mixture, they were set apart for temple use only. It was not permitted that one would create a batch of that incense for any other use. Think also of the purpose behind what Jesus has done in the Apostles. They were chosen out of the world, separated from the world though in it. They were, in and of themselves, commoners. For the most part, they were men so common as to be discounted by the elites of their day. They could not possibly have any great bearing on events. They were fishermen, taxmen for goodness sake! They were Galileans, probably Gentile half-breeds, so far as the denizens of Jerusalem would measure it, half-breeds by character certainly, if not by genetics. But, Jesus had called them out, set them apart. That is, in truth, the purpose of this prayer, a sealing of their very being to the exclusive use of God for His purposes alone.
Nor does that aspect of sanctification stop with these first men. It is the call to all who believe. Paul instructs us to work out our salvation, and for motivation, sets out the point that God is working in us, both upon our will and upon our ability, so that we might work for His good pleasure (Php 2:12-13). Simultaneously, we must see what Paul said to the Corinthian church. “You were already washed, sanctified and justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God” (1Co 6:11). Without that already accomplished work, there would be nothing for us to work out. If the sanctification, the setting apart for God, had not already been done by God, then first and foremost, He would not be working in us. That is, after all, His first working in us toward salvation. Yet, He having worked, and He even being the one who continues and faithfully completes that work does not relieve us of our own responsibility to work out our salvation. We are active participants in the process, else we must suppose the process has never begun and we have been deluding ourselves. But, where Jesus has been visiting, we are assured. He has begun the work, and the work, once begun, He shall surely finish. He has already finished!
So, with all this in mind in regard to the meaning of sanctification, it must surely shock our senses to hear Jesus say, “I sanctify Myself” in verse 19. What? Isn’t He the pure and holy One in Whom was no sin? Isn’t He the One Who has repeatedly told us how He speaks and does only what He sees the Father doing and saying? Was there ever another in Whom it was so evident that He was truly dedicated to God, separated from every profane thing? Can it really be that He Who was eve clean and pure finds yet the need to purify Himself, to wash away the guilt of sin from Himself? Clearly not! How shall He wash away that which has never been upon Him?
The only way I can perceive this idea of sanctification in the person of Jesus is a reiterating of His dedication to God, His determination to pursue God’s purposes solely and completely. I am also mindful of that more ceremonial application of the idea of dedication. Think back to the days when Israel was first come into the land of Canaan. Coming to Jericho, they were instructed to dedicate all the wealth of that place to the Lord. This was synonymous with dedicating all that stuff to destruction. It would be consumed by fire. This essentially served as a burnt offering to the Lord. Yet, the offering, being dedicated to Him, was destroyed to man. There remained no possibility of it being taken back.
In their corruption of Holy Law, there were those of whom Jesus had complained, those who put their wealth into the temple treasuries and declared it corban, dedicated to the Lord, and therefore unavailable for the upkeep of familial responsibilities. I’d love to help, but I gave all I had to the church. Sounds holy enough. But, God says it’s no defense. Jesus, in this dedicating of Himself to God in a fashion fully redolent of that ritual dedication of the enemy’s goods as an offering, knows He shall be wholly consumed by what must come, at least as earthly life is measured. But, He would do it. He would be made sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God (2Co 5:21). He would take upon Himself the sins of the whole world and in His own death expiate them in full. Yet, He knew no sin. In Himself He was ever pure, always clean.
We must recognize the power of what precedes His declaration that He would sanctify Himself: “For their sakes.” I do it for them. I do it because there is no other hope for them. They cannot do it themselves. It is beyond them to truly atone for their sins. But, I can. And, as it is Your will, it is My will. I will do it. I will dedicate Myself as the sacrifice for sin. Bear this in mind. “No one takes My life from Me. I lay it down on My own initiative. I have the authority to do this. And, I have the authority to take My life back again. It is what My Father has commanded Me to do” (Jn 10:18). Now, hear the full power of what Jesus has said here. “For their sakes, I sanctify Myself – dedicate Myself to destruction as a perfect and eternal offering to a perfect and eternal God.” It is the only way for us. He is the only way for us. And, in Him, it is finished. Amen!
