Gingerly, he shifted the line of drying parchments to the side, valiantly attempting to create space for the most recent sheet without smearing a previous one. He didn’t care to do a rewrite. He’d already been at this for hours. Mind meticulously sifting through memories. Quill carefully gliding over crisp parchment. Page after page had been filled. Day had turned to night, then back to day. He’d never have noticed had it not necessitated the lighting of a lamp. His roaring stomach loudly grumbled that he’d skipped a meal. Or two. The last meal he’d eaten was breakfast. Judging by the crow of the rooster and the sun peaking over the hilltops, it was breakfast time again. He’d missed lunch. And dinner. Rubbing his neck and rotating his head, John carefully paused a moment to step back and inspect the parchment he’d just slipped into place. His muscles were tight. His back ached. His shoulders were stiff. The joints of his fingers cried out in refusal when he flexed his hand. And his heart rejoiced. The words of Jesus, His teachings, His miracles, His life, were inscribed on those pages. Words of life for the lives of people.
No price could be placed on the importance of preserving the words and events inscribed on those pages. They were invaluable. For earthly life. For eternal life. Everyone needed them. Not one person was exempt. John. His family. His friends. His neighbors. People living and those yet to be born. Everyone, everywhere needed those words. Coming generations would be no different than those of his day. Eventually, they would find themselves urgently needing to read, know, and understand these teachings. Because every generation would find themselves in a position to fall away. Away from belief in Jesus Christ. Away from His teachings. Away from His commandments, His principles, His requirements. Every generation would find themselves tempted to rewrite the truth, retell the stories, reinterpret the facts. They would be urged to make the immutable commands of God more palatable. They needed John’s writings, the unadulterated words of Jesus Christ, because they would desperately need to know the path to follow. So they would not fall away.
Those words were among the last things Jesus said to His disciples. After three years of teaching and talking, living and walking among them, He was going away. They weren’t coming. Couldn’t come. They had to stay behind as lights in the darkened world. But He hadn’t been lax while He was with them. He’d prepared them for this very moment. Every lesson, every sermon, every parable, every moment had been a preparation for the time when He would not physically be among them. He’d told them everything they needed to know. Jesus’ heart for them was that they wouldn’t fall away. From righteousness. From holiness. From God. John’s heart, his reason for long hours uncomfortably bent over a cramped writing desk, was to share the words and life and lessons of Jesus with posterity for the exact same reason. So they wouldn’t fall away. (John 13:31-33, 14:1-12, 15:4-14, 16:1; Matthew 5:14-16)
John had seen the dangers of falling away firsthand. Seated around the table at their final meal with Jesus before His death, the disciples had been surprised to hear that one of their own would betray Him. Someone they knew. Someone they trusted. Someone who had been there when Jesus stilled the sea, gave sight to the blind, healed the lame and multiplied a sack lunch. Someone who was right there to witness Lazarus walking out of the tomb at Jesus’ command. Someone who had heard the same teachings and truths they had all heard, was already in the throes of defection. Someone had fallen away. Offered Jesus’ head to the Pharisees. Sold His life to the chief priests. Would soon be handing Him over to death. It was unimaginable. It was inconceivable. Yet it happened. (Matthew 26:20-25; John 18:1-5)
He’d been in the garden when Judas, a trusted friend and fellow disciple, approached with a group of soldiers, chief priests, and Pharisees to arrest Jesus. The defection stung. The betrayal cut deeply. The sneer on Judas’ face as he approached and kissed Jesus’ cheek raised bile in the back of John’s throat. Although he may not have known at that moment, John would surely later learn the impetus behind Judas’ actions. The love of money truly is the root of all evil. Judas obviously hadn’t been paying attention to the dialogue between Jesus and the wealthy young man who came seeking eternal life without sacrifice. He must not have heard Jesus’ response that valuing earthly treasures above eternal ones would never result in eternal life. If he heard, he didn’t listen. Judas was in the same trench with the saddened young man who refused to diminish his earthly wealth to gain eternal riches. His love for money superseded his desire for Jesus. For just 30 pieces of silver, he sacrificed Jesus’ life and his own eternity. Money was the thing Judas wouldn’t give up to save his soul. It was the thing that made him fall away. (Matthew 6:24, 16:26, 26:14-15; I Timothy 6:10; Mark 10:17-23)
Unfortunately, Judas wouldn’t be the only one of them to stumble and fall away. Following at a short distance as they led Jesus into the high priest’s courtyard, Peter found a seat among those gathered around a fire warming themselves. He intended to quietly wait out the hearing. Gain information. Go back and tell the others what he’d learned. Except he didn’t learn what he thought he would. He didn’t learn anything new about Jesus. He learned only something old about himself. The old self-preservation was still alive and well. The old habit of denial and falling in with the crowd was still thriving in his heart. He was still fearful and largely faithless. Just like he’d been when he tried to walk on water. His spirit was willing, but his flesh was weak. He wanted to stand up for Jesus, but his fear of being mocked, abused, or persecuted silenced his voice. Jesus had warned him about this.
Hearing Jesus say He was going away but they were staying behind had set off Peter’s impetuousness. He wasn’t having that. He couldn’t think of anywhere Jesus was going that he wouldn’t follow. He loved Jesus more than anything. More than anyone. He would follow Him anywhere. Even death. He’d go there too. Except he wouldn’t. Wouldn’t even be tempted to. When it came down to it and his neck was on the line, Peter would deny even knowing Jesus. Not once. Not twice. Three times. He would adamantly furrow his brow and fervently deny any affiliation. When everything seemed safe and easy, Peter was happy to loudly proclaim his relationship with Jesus. But when things grew dark and threatening, Peter was a coward. Afraid to stand for truth. Afraid to proclaim holiness. Afraid to claim even a passing acquaintance with Jesus. Too afraid of the social status quo, the opinions of influencers, the current tilt of the religious world. Too worried about perception and persecution. Too concerned for his physical safety, Peter forgot about his spiritual security. And he fell away. (Luke 22:54-62; John 13:31-38, 19:15-18,25-27)
Thankfully, Peter didn’t stay there. Fallen away. Denying Christ. No. Within minutes of his third denial, Peter can be found face first in the ground, sobbing his heart out in repentance, gaining spiritual restoration. The same kind of restoration John later wrote about in his first epistle. Encouraging the Christians of that day to walk in the light of God and refrain from sin, John assures them that, if they do sin, the blood of Jesus Christ is still available. To them then. To us now. He paints the overwhelmingly gorgeous picture of Christ as our Advocate, standing before the Great Judge of all the earth, pleading our cause, offering Himself as an alternative to spiritual death. John eloquently reminds us that Jesus was the sacrifice for our sins. He died so we don’t have to. And He left His Word, His commands, His teachings, His stories, so we won’t fall away. (I John 1:5-2:2)
Everything you need to know is in your Bible. Read it. First. Before you read the news. Before you check social media. Before you pick up the latest Christian bestseller or listen to the most recent sermon from your favorite preacher. Read. Your. Bible. Know it. Memorize it. Saturate your soul so deeply in the Word of God that it is your first response in every situation. Changing times. Shifting views. Skewed media. Political agendas. Social influences. Varying opinions and irreligious ideas. No matter what, God’s Word stands. Its life-changing, life-giving, life-saving words last forever. It still applies. All of it. And you need to know it, so you won’t fall away. (Isaiah 40:6-8; Psalm 119:11; Psalm 33:11-14; II Timothy 3:16)
The B-I-B-L-E, that’s the Book for me!!!