February 12


Graduating


I no longer call you servants, because a master doesn’t confide in his servants. Now you are my friends since I have told you everything the Father told me.

John 15:15 (NLT)


For three long and adventurous years the disciples followed. They walked in the dust of their Master and Rabbi. They followed in wide-eyed wonder and must have scratched their heads just a bit puzzled why Jesus would choose them to be servant-learners. I mean these guys were nobodies, everyday men, nothing special. They were the B-team, the second string, but in a strange moment Jesus Christ had called them and they jumped at the chance. Because when a rabbi called you it meant he thought you had what it took to become like him, to do what he did, and to follow on and continue his teaching after he was gone. They fully expected some day to graduate and become a rabbi from the school of Jesus. And how exciting it had all been. They had seen Master Jesus do miraculous things. He turned water into wine; He walked on water and calmed the raging storm in an instant; He raised the dead. And, all the while, He kept telling them, “I am obeying My Father. I am doing My Father’s will.”

Now it is their turn.

It is the eve of the crucifixion and Jesus is giving His disciples last-minute instructions. The end is near; the time has come; but they just don’t get it. They don’t seem to have a clue. But Jesus knows. He has done His job with these men.

This then is their graduation ceremony. The Rabbi has told them everything. He has taught them about love and obedience and … sacrifice. Now Jesus reaches down and pulls them onto the podium, up to his higher level. “I no longer call you servants … now you are my friends.”

Except for one individual the disciples had made it. In this sense, their training was complete. After Jesus’ resurrection there would be additional confirmation and assurance, but soon enough they would be on their own leading and teaching. These men would be like Christ and they would rock the world … just like Christ did.

But they are not alone.

Jesus wants us to rock our world too. In fact, He prayed for us just as He did for His disciples (John 17:20-21). He offers us something more as well. We have His promise, “You are my friends if you obey me” (John 15:14).

Obedience turns disciples into friends, and now it is our turn. Jesus reaches down from the podium. He looks us square in the eye and offers us His hand. This is graduation day.


Father, make me like the Master. Amen.

February 11

Discovery: Enjoy the Ride!


They caught nothing that night. … Jesus spoke to them: “Good morning! Did you catch anything for breakfast?” They answered, “No.” He said, “Throw the net off the right side of the boat and see what happens.” They did what he said. All of a sudden, there were so many fish in it they weren’t strong enough to pull it in.

John 21:3-6 (The Message)


My son is teaching me amazing things.

I picked him up from basketball tryouts on Thursday evening. He was unusually quiet, and I could tell something wasn’t quite right, so I asked about it.

“Well, Ryan, how did it go?”

“I’m not going to play.”

“What do you mean?”

He looked out the window. “I need to work on my defense. I’m too slow. I’m holding the other guys back, so I’ve decided not to play this summer.”

“He tipped his head back on the headrest and said, “Can we go home now?”

“Sure….” I started the engine for the short drive home. All the way there I thought of how much Ryan loved basketball—playing on his middle school team and winning a championship, watching the NBA every chance he got, wanting to be like David Robinson or Tim Duncan. Big dreams.

Yeah, I was concerned for Ryan that night, but everything changed the next morning….

As I hunted the kitchen cabinets for a box of cereal, Ryan walked in. He was holding a golf club—a big driver a friend had given him.

“Hey, Dad. What do you think about golf? We need to get out there and practice the old swing.” He said it with a smile, and I realized his heart and mind had moved on—well before mine had even considered the possibility. And then I thought of something. His attitude reminded me of Dr. Jonas Salk, the world-famous inventor of the polio vaccine.

Dr. Salk had failed 200 times before creating a successful vaccine for the crippling disease. When a reporter asked him how it felt to fail 200 times, Dr. Salk replied, “I didn’t fail 200 times; I just discovered 200 ways NOT to make a polio vaccine!”

This seemed to be Ryan’s attitude. He had discovered what wasn’t working and so his quest continued. Ryan didn’t abandon his journey of discovery. He didn’t derail over a lack of success with basketball. No, Ryan’s journey continues. It’s a voyage of self-discovery—showing him how God has and has not gifted him.

Ryan encourages me: enjoy the ride of self-discovery!


Father, thank You for my son, for new challenges, for new discoveries. These are new days for each of us. Bless them, each and every one, as we seek and discover Your good will. Amen.