Having loved his own who were in the world, he [Jesus] now showed them the full extent of his love John 13:1. For Christ’s love compels us. 2 Cor. 5:14. Your love is better than life Ps. 63:3
Dear Lord Jesus, this scene always stretches the borders of my faith and worship, and fills my heart with awe and joy. It’s the night of your betrayal—the night you would be denied and abandoned, not just by Peter, but by all of the disciples. You knew this and yet you persisted in disrobing yourself, bending low, and washing the dirty feet of these weak, fearful, broken men.
This one verse often brings me back to sanity—gospel-sanity. It anchors me when I lose my moorings; centers me when I lose perspective; quiets me when I’m restless; reels my heart in when I am in a wandering mode; and brings me back from the wastelands of self-pity, self-contempt and self-preoccupation.
“Having loved his own who were in the world, he now showed them the full extent of his love“…This is how you love each of your followers, all of your disciples, your whole bride. You’ve made us your own—your beloved spouse. You bought us with the ultimate price of your perfect life and substitutionary death. We’ve been redeemed from sin and death, and placed into your righteousness and embrace. Absolutely nothing can separate us from your love.
While we’re in this world, you’re constantly loving us, with an unwavering love. You’re loving us when we’re alive to your presence and affections; and you’re loving us when it feels like you’re ignoring our prayers, indifferent to our pain, or displeased with our lives. In fact, whether we perceive it or not, the most constant can-be-counted-upon reality in our lives, is not death and taxes, but your mercy and loving kindness.
Lord Jesus, it’s the last line in this little verse that stokes the flame of my chilled affections for you. As with the men in the upper room, so with those of us in any of a number of rooms right now: you remain committed to showing us the full extent of your love—its height, depth, width, and breadth.
Though you died for a huge pan-national bride, I declare with the apostle Paul today, “the Son of God loved me and gave himself for me” (Gal. 2:20). This isn’t spiritual narcissism, it’s a glorious necessity. It’s not selfish musings; it’s sacred worship. It’s not Western individualism; it’s just how deeply personal the gospel actually is. Once again, I’m once in awe, Lord Jesus, of you and your love for us. On this mid-August day, ramp up my awe even more, for you, alone, are worthy. So very Amen I pray, in your truly astonishing name.