A couple nights ago I told my littlest daughter that no spider in a nightmare can ever physically hurt her. I told her so as she was climbing into bed because at that moment she was not fearful of any real and present spider but of one that might again make its shadowy way into her unconscious dream perception. She grinned and was ready to sleep, newly emboldened. She understood. She slept, and in the morning rejoiced to have had no scary dreams.

And when I was out surfing with some buddies the other day, my rubber wedding band slipped off my finger into the waves. It was gone. I lamented for one second because I liked its color. I remained very married. In fact, I was then just as married as I was when the ring was on. The ring was merely a sign of the reality of my marriage. 

Consider your signature. It’s an inky slip and swoop and jab, and maybe a quick dot and tick that’s able to stand in for you, testifying that you have made an important decision out there in the real world of debits and credits and laws and stuff. But your signature is not you. It merely says you’ve been here (or there) and made a decision to do something requiring remaining and visible evidence of the fact while you’re now elsewhere doing other things.

So what? I’ll tell you. 

In John’s gospel (5:39-40), Jesus boldly said the following to some religious hypocrites: “you search the scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me, yet you refuse to come to me that you may have life.” This is a memorable saying of Jesus for the fear it could induce but far more for the peace it delivers to any who go to Jesus. 

Jesus had previously said some things that made his hearers furious. They understood Him as “making Himself equal with God” (v.18), and so they wanted to kill Him—a religious zeal. Jesus didn’t correct them and say they misunderstood Him; He doubled down. He further claimed to be God, doing the works of God, and claimed that all of Scripture is actually about Him and given so that folks would come to Him for the eternal life He alone provides.

There is a strong warning in Christ’s words for those given to finding hope in signs. If you find that your wedding ring is more valuable to you than your marriage, be concerned. If your favorite picture of your wife is more pleasing to you than your actual wife, find a good marriage counselor.

Jesus is here saying that the Bible does not give eternal life, He does. He is the reality to which the Scriptures point. He has arms, hands, pinky toes, a heart, and a frontal lobe—the Bible doesn’t.

Apparently, one can have vast knowledge of the Bible, an ability to argue for its truth (red-faced and spitting mad, too), and a widespread reputation for knowing the Bible, all while catastrophically missing the point. That was the condition of the religious folks who kept giving Jesus and His disciples a hard time. Now, Jesus was not saying we should toss the Scriptures to focus instead on gaining a mystical sense of His presence not anchored by anything. He was declaring it a horrible thing to trade Him for the Scriptures. 

Jesus was warning against expecting signs to accomplish what only He can. He was warning against preferring ideas (maybe even some right ones) over Him. (Some reading this may now want to say, “But you have to have the right ideas. You have to have the right Jesus!” I agree that you have to have the right Jesus.)

There is also deep encouragement here. 

Often enough, I have difficulties with and in the faith. At times, I truly struggle to believe. I have been concerned in the past that my Bible study has been nothing more. But this passage (and others, along with a little help from my friends) emboldens me to trust that there is a person who is here, alive and well, more aware of me than I am of myself. He’s not ink on a gilded page, unable to move without me, and He’s not afraid of my doubts. He says He does not change; He says He keeps His promises; and He says “for life, come to me; I’ve got it.” 

If my daughter awakens in a fright, terrified that spiders now rule the world and have eaten me, I yet remain—and lovingly so. In her fear she runs to my room, and I help. She doesn’t grab a photo of me to stare at or to count my beard hairs and freckles in hopes of distracting herself from what’s haunting her. She comes to me quickly to find I’m real and really want to help her.  

In this verse, Jesus memorably takes Himself off the page—so to speak. He loves me out here and is happy to give me life. Maybe especially when faith is weak it’s a blessed truth that I can’t lessen or add to the degree of Christ’s reality or the historicity of His work to save and bless. I can mutter an enfeebled prayer and He actually hears it.

Jesus says if we go to Him He will give life—eternal life. He says to not let anything, including the Scriptures, stand in the way.