Jesus Says… | Sunday, November 16, 2025

And when the messengers of John had departed, Jesus began to speak to the multitudes concerning John... "What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed shaken by the wind?... A prophet? Yes, I say to you, and more than a prophet... among those born of women, there is not a greater prophet than John the Baptist; but he who is least in the kingdom of God is greater than he."... "But wisdom is justified by all her children." (Luke 7:24–35)

What would Jesus say to you—and what might He say about you? The answer reveals a Savior who corrects in private and praises in public, all from a heart of love.

What Would Jesus Say To You—Or About You?

As we consider this text in Luke 7, I'd like you to think about two things. First, what would Jesus say to you? And second, what might Jesus say about you?

You might worry about what Jesus could say about you, because aside from Jesus you know more about yourself than any other person does. If Jesus is who we believe Him to be, He knows everything about you—which is frightening enough. He could show all the worst possible things about you. And you know yourself: if you're honest, there may have been times when someone divulged something private to you and you used it in a way that was hurtful, or brought you gain through slander or gossip. So you think, "Jesus knows everything about me. He could say something quite hurtful."

Or perhaps someone else knew something you disclosed in confidence and used it spitefully. That makes a command like the one in Luke 6—"bless those who curse you and pray for those who spitefully use you"—complicated, because people have said hurtful things about you that you've struggled to forgive.

You also worry about what Jesus might say to you, because He knows the things you did at the worst points in your life, the worst things you ever said, and even the worst things you ever thought—things that were terrible, maybe even malicious. Perhaps you've also said hurtful things to yourself in your own internal monologue, or someone—a parent, a coach, a sibling—was deeply critical and unkind toward you, and you're still not sure you're over it. So you'd be a little worried about what Jesus might say to you.

The Context: John in Prison

You might wonder how this connects to Luke 7, and that's a fair question, because we picked up the story partway through. To get the proper context, back up to Luke 7:17. The report about Jesus went throughout all Judea—the report of the healing of the centurion's servant, and then of Jesus going to the town of Nain, just across a valley from Nazareth, where He raised a young man from the dead. That news spread quickly.

It reached John the Baptist, who at this point was in prison. John had spoken against the political leader Herod and called him out for his immorality, so he was suffering the consequences of standing for righteousness. John sent two of his disciples to Jesus to ask, "Are You the Coming One, or do we look for another?" That very hour Jesus cured many infirmities and gave sight to the blind, and then He answered: "Go and tell John the things you have seen and heard. The blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have the gospel preached to them. And blessed is he who is not offended because of Me."

A Discouraged Forerunner

Those last words have weighed on me for a long time, partly because of a book I read at about nineteen years old. A mentor recommended Gene Edwards's A Tale of Three Kings, which became a favorite—I've read it no less than six times. That led me to Edwards's The Prisoner in the Third Cell, an allegory built on the story of John the Baptist. In the way Edwards tells it, I think John was discouraged in prison—and understandably so. He stood for righteousness, and it landed him in prison facing execution. He sends his followers to ask, "Are You the Messiah, or should we look for someone else?"

The fact that John asks this is striking when you remember who John is. We picture the camel-haired man in the wilderness eating locusts and honey, a gruff man's man calling people a "brood of vipers" and crying "Repent!" This is the man God the Father selected to be the forerunner of the Messiah—the one Isaiah said would go before Him to prepare the way.

Before John began, he received a revelation: "The one on whom you see the Spirit descending and remaining, that is the One." John's baptism was not for purification but for revelation—he was looking for the Messiah. So I have a theory that every time John baptized someone, he checked: "Next." Then Jesus came, the Spirit descended, and John declared, "Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world." After that, John's baptizing ministry basically stops, because it had served its purpose of revelation.

If anyone had the authentication that Jesus was the One, it was John. So why does he now ask, "Are You the Messiah?" He's discouraged. Like every faithful first-century Jew, John conceived of the Messiah as the anointed deliverer and royal King of kings, who would rescue Israel, destroy the Romans, and establish a kingdom without end. John expected that. Yet now he's in prison, and that's not happening.

Jesus's Answer—and an Arrow to the Heart

To us as Westerners in 2025, it looks like Jesus gave a non-answer. He doesn't say, "Yes, I'm the One." But what He says is very important: "Go and tell John what you see and hear—the deaf hear, the blind see, the dead are raised, the poor have the gospel preached to them." John would know instantly what Jesus meant, because he knew Isaiah.

Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who are fearful-hearted, "Be strong, do not fear! Behold, your God will come with vengeance... He will come and save you." Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the dumb sing. For waters shall burst forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert. (Isaiah 35:3–6)

The Jews believed this was a messianic prophecy. John knew exactly what Jesus was saying. But the last eleven words hit his heart like an arrow: "Blessed are you if you are not offended with Me."

Jesus answered the deeper issue underneath John's question. It can rightly be interpreted as a mild rebuke—not a smack in the face, but a challenging word to a man in deep discouragement. And I'm convinced, through Scripture and my own observation, that the rebukes and challenges of Jesus spoken directly to us are never a punishing chastisement. They come from a place of love, aimed at our hearts to grow us into what God wants us to be.

Point One: Jesus Wants To Make Me Better Than I Am

Like John, and like you, I want things in my life to go my way. I want smooth sailing. When I tell someone, "You need to repent; your life is out of order," I want them to immediately agree. They don't always. I don't want to suffer. But Jesus frequently has a different agenda than I do.

Jesus wants to make me better than I am. I didn't know what song the worship team would do this morning, but it always seems fitting: "Being confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in me will be faithful to complete it." I hold that as a core understanding through the things I face in this life—things that on their face are discouraging, that in the moment seem like they can't possibly have a good outcome. But I have the reminders of Scripture, including that favorite verse: "We know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose." Which means sometimes He has to speak challenging words to me, as He did to John.

Point Two: Jesus Thinks Well of You

Look at what Jesus does immediately after this mild rebuke. Verse 24: when the messengers departed, Jesus turned from the messengers to the multitudes and began to speak about John. "What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A prophet? Yes, and more than a prophet." Then verse 28: "Among those born of women there is not a greater prophet than John the Baptist."

How many of you were born of a woman? All of us. Could you come up with a greater compliment? Jesus had just spoken a mild rebuke to a discouraged man—and then publicly declared him one of the greatest people who ever lived.

Sometimes Jesus says challenging things privately to transform us, because we're not there yet. But then He says amazing things publicly about us. He addresses our flaws with us privately, but He announces our identity publicly. He's never harsh, even when He's honest. When He corrects us to restore us, He also speaks well of us to remind us of who we are in Him.

I think most of us believe Jesus thinks well of you conceptually—in our brains—but we have a hard time actually walking in it. We tend to think Jesus regards us with a bit of embarrassment, perpetually shaking His head, cringing, muttering, "Really?" But He sees the future vision of us that we don't comprehend.

Point Three: Jesus Sees the End Product, Not the Current Condition

My daughters are very artistic. Sometimes I look at their projects mid-process and think, "What are you doing?"—but when I see the finished product, I'm amazed. They had the vision of what it would become. I don't see that about myself, because I have to live with me every day. But Jesus sees the end product.

Remember, He saved you when you were dead in trespasses and sins. He died for you when you were far from Him, His enemy. Paul says God the Father did not spare His only Son for you. He gave His only begotten Son so that if you believe in Him you would not perish but have everlasting life. Consider the treasure hidden in the field and the pearl of great price: one way to read those parables is that you are the treasure and the pearl, for whom God gave everything to redeem you. Or the potter and the clay in Jeremiah 18—God watches the potter form the clay and says, "You are the clay; I am the potter," seeing the finished product of what He's molding you into.

Jesus sees the end product, not the current condition. I see the current condition. But even though He sees the end, He still has to address the present—so sometimes He speaks challenging things to me while speaking about me in the most awesome ways.

Peter at Caesarea Philippi

In Matthew 16, Jesus took His disciples to Caesarea Philippi, the northernmost part of Israel, at the base of the mountains rising to Mount Hermon, where the Jordan begins. There stood an eighty-foot red rock cliff, and at its base was a pantheon of pagan gods—worship of Pan and others. Surrounded by all those gods, Jesus asked, "Who do men say that I am?" Then, "Who do you say that I am?" Peter spoke up: "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God."

Every time I read that, I think of Bob Barker on The Price Is Right—"Ding, ding, ding! You got it!" Jesus said, "Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah, for flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but My Father in heaven. And I say to you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build My church, and the gates of Hades shall not prevail against it." There is actually a cave in that cliff at Caesarea Philippi that was called "the gates of hell." Jesus declared that all the gods of this world would not prevail against His church, and gave Peter the keys of the kingdom.

I imagine Peter glowing: "Yes, that's right—remember when I walked on water, gentlemen?" "Yeah, but you sank." And the others rolling their eyes. But look at the very next verse: "From that time Jesus began to show His disciples that He must go to Jerusalem and suffer and be killed and be raised the third day." Peter took Him aside and began to rebuke Him: "Far be it from You, Lord; this shall not happen to You." And Jesus turned and said, "Get behind Me, Satan! You are an offense to Me, for you are not mindful of the things of God, but the things of men."

Point Four: Jesus Works From Love To Produce a Perfected Outcome

The juxtaposition is amazing—from "You are Peter, and on this rock I will build My church" to "Get behind Me, Satan." One of the things I love about Jesus is that He can speak a glowing word of affirmation, allow us to do amazing things on His behalf, and then immediately say, "What you just did was wrong"—not because He's angry, but because He is not a fawning flatterer. He doesn't offer uncritical affirmation that overlooks our sin to be liked. He addresses the issues, aiming not to tear us down but to grow us up and move us toward glory. As Paul says in 2 Corinthians 3, we are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory by the Spirit of the Lord.

Consider, too, that when Jesus said, "Get behind Me, Satan," those troubling words were also liberating. Why? Because Jesus was saying, "Peter, that's not you." And it's the same with the confession—"Flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but My Father in heaven." The good came from the Father, not from Peter, and the offense came from somewhere else too.

Jesus works and speaks from a place of love to produce a perfected outcome. He is making you into a finished product, and you're not there yet—but we can be confident that He who began a good work in us will be faithful to complete it.

The Strangeness of Reality: Where Did the Thought Come From?

Both of these events—John's question and Peter's rebuke—raise a fascinating consideration to leave with you. Where did John's discouragement and dejected loss of faith come from? He's in a pitiful situation—prison, facing execution, fighting faithlessness. It's understandable he's discouraged. But how does a man who saw the Spirit descend and remain on Jesus get to "I guess He's not the One"?

I want to suggest that conclusion came to John from somewhere else—just as Peter's confession came from the Father, and Peter's "Far be it from You, Lord" did not entirely originate with Peter. This confronts us with the strangeness of reality. Our culture constantly tells us, in the spirit of the Enlightenment, that all that exists is what we sense. Yet even Enlightenment philosophers like Immanuel Kant believed there was something beyond sensory perception—he called what we sense the phenomena and held that something lay beyond it. We Christians call that the spiritual realm.

There is a world you cannot see, with beings and entities that somehow can influence your thinking. Is that really possible? Jesus said, "Flesh and blood didn't reveal this to you, but My Father in heaven"—and "Get behind Me, Satan; that's not you." Where do these thoughts come from? They're your thoughts—and yet not always in every way.

Discerning the Source of Your Thoughts

I recently spoke with someone struggling with intrusive thoughts—random, errant images that come unwelcome and troubling. Everyone has them. You've had a thought and wondered, "Where did that come from? What does it say about me?" Maybe it didn't come from you entirely. The Bible indicates a spiritual realm, and such thoughts may come from God the Father or from dark spiritual entities. It's fascinating that our word "angel" comes from the Greek angelos, "messenger"—spiritual messengers whose messages somehow come to us.

That raises a troubling question: how do I discern whether a thought is good or evil, true or false, from me or from another source, to be accepted or rejected? The end of this text points us toward an answer. In Luke 7:31–34 Jesus likens His generation to children in the marketplace who could not be pleased: John came neither eating nor drinking, and they said he had a demon; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they called Him a glutton and a drunkard. Then verse 35—one of my favorite sayings of Jesus:

But wisdom is justified by all her children. (Luke 7:35)

Whether a thing is wise, good, true, or beautiful is proven by its outcome. The fruit tells you about the tree. God has given you a rational brain, so follow the line of reasoning: where does this thought lead? Does it take me to a place that honors and glorifies God and builds up others—or to a place of destruction and death? There is the Father in heaven, and there is the father of lies. Not every thought that runs through your mind came from you, and not every imagination leads to a wholesome conclusion. If it leads to death, it probably came from the father of lies and ought to be rejected. And by the help of God, you have the power to reject it.

Think On These Things

How do we do that? Paul gives the answer in Philippians 4:

Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice!... Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things. (Philippians 4:4–8)

That errant, disturbing image, if you dwell on it, will take you down a path you don't want to go. So Paul says: think on the things that are true, just, good, and noble, and the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds—and then you can obey the command, "Be anxious for nothing."

Closing Prayer

Father God, I pray that You would help us this week, because there are so many anxiety-producing images and thoughts—images fed to us through the nightly news, through Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, Snapchat, X—all day and every day, that vex and disturb and grip us. We don't have to think on those things. By the power of Your Spirit we get to choose to think on what is lovely. You say to us, "Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God." So we come before You with our requests and ask: renew us in our minds, transform us by Your grace, make us more and more into what You want us to be, and help us to be confident of this very thing—that You who began a good work in us will be faithful to complete it until the day of Christ Jesus. We pray this in Jesus's name, and all those who agreed said, Amen.