No, You Ask Him!

One of his disciples, whom Jesus loved, was reclining at table at Jesus' side,so Simon Peter motioned to him to ask Jesus of whom he was speaking. - John 13:23-24

I believe, without a shadow of a doubt, that the Bible is what it claims to be—the infallible, inspired Word of God. There a far greater men than me, men more studied, more credentialed, more intelligent, and I’m sure they could unfold the textual criticism and historical veracity of the original manuscripts to prove what I hold to be true. I don’t devalue their contribution to our confidence, in fact I thank God for them, but let me tell you one of the reasons I know the Bible is true.

Because of the laughable moments included in the text.

If you wanted to write a book to hoodwink all humanity into a religious sect about a holy man who claimed he was God, then dies and rises again, I’m pretty certain you don’t include moments like this. You wouldn’t portray some of your star characters the way these guys carried on that night.

Think about it, this is the night of the betrayal, the eve of the most significant event in human history, the Son of God was about to enter into his final hours of torment. Jesus is pouring out his heart, savouring these precious moments with his disciples, when he suddenly reveals that there’s a traitor in their midst.

What happens next is the clincher for me; it almost runs like a sitcom scene. One guy looks at the next and slightly twitches his head toward Jesus, silently mouthing, “Ask him who it is.” That guys widens his eyes across the table in no uncertain terms in defiance, “No, you ask him.” Soon, the entire table are all twitching and nodding, glaring and chin-pointing, each trying to get someone else to air what they were all thinking. Eventually, Peter stamps his unofficial authority down on the table with a silent but violent jerk of his head toward John, accompanied by an almost audible hiss, “Ask him!”

If only they realised. If only they’d known. Jesus had perceived their hearts, knew they thoughts, and understood their doubts. Jesus is no embalmed image of a distant God, a relic displayed in a reliquary behind closed curtains. Jesus is near. A friend. Closer than a brother. A sympathising high-priest. A constant companion. He’s all of those things and more. So come to him now. Say what’s on your mind. Share your fears and anxieties, even your doubts, and feel his gentle hand and calming voice, “Peace. Be still.”