Do You Love Me More Than These?
“Simon, son of John, do you love me more than
these?”
— John 21:15
This is the question we all need
to answer.
Although the Lord Jesus posed it
to Peter on the shore after the resurrection, there is still room for every one
of us to hear that same question as if the Lord were directing it personally to
us:
Do you love Me more than these?
Do we love anything more than the
Lord?
The immediate reflex is obviously
no. Our minds rush to the right answer: Of course I love the Lord above all
else. But let’s be real. If we place anything in our lives as a priority —
anything — over the Lord Jesus, that is where our treasure lies.
“For where your treasure is, there your heart
will be also.”
— Matthew 6:21
And the more I reflect on my own
heart, the more work it needs.
Not patchwork. Not religious
effort. Not moral polishing.
Because the greatest of all
miracles has already been accomplished on Calvary.
“It is finished.”
— John 19:30
The Lord Jesus has paid the price
for the repentant sinner. Fully. Completely. Eternally.
My mind sometimes wants to drag
me back to a place where I earn salvation, where I contribute to the cross,
where I patch together righteousness with effort. But Scripture calls that what
it is: dead work.
“…let us leave the
elementary doctrine of Christ and go on to maturity… not laying again a
foundation of repentance from dead works…”
— Hebrews 6:1
Any attempt to add to what Christ
finished is futile. Salvation is not a collaboration; it is a rescue.
I want the penny to drop on the
magnitude of the Lord Jesus’ victory on Calvary. We say we understand it, but
to what extent?
Regardless of how we slip and
fall, that sin has already been accounted for. The Lord Jesus has the authority
to forgive, thereby silencing the accuser of the believer.
“There is therefore
now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”
— Romans 8:1
It has already been judged. The
sentence has been passed. The punishment has been served.
When I slow down long enough to
digest this truth, it blows my mind.
Our sin — the very thing we
sometimes allow to live comfortably within our domain — caused the Lord Jesus
to suffer separation and judgement in our place.
“For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no
sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”
— 2 Corinthians 5:21
God made a way out for sinners by
sending His own Son.
“But God shows his love for us in that while we
were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
— Romans 5:8
I’ve already written about “Jesus
in my place,” but this truth has no bottom. It is eternal, continual, and
inexhaustible.
Satan, the accuser, has no claim
over the believer’s failures because the price has been paid.
“…the accuser of our brothers has been thrown
down, who accuses them day and night before our God.”
— Revelation 12:10
With that established — and it
should already be foundational to every believer — the Apostle Paul devotes
much of Romans to unpacking what this means.
Which brings us back to the
question.
“Do you love Me more than these?”
“What shall we say then? Are we to continue in
sin that grace may abound? By no means!”
— Romans 6:1–2
Grace is not permission to drift.
Grace is the power to live differently.
Love is the issue.
Not fear. Not an obligation. Not a
religious performance.
Love.
If Christ has done all of this,
if the cross truly stands where Scripture says it stands, then the question is
unavoidable:
Do we love Him more than these?
More than comfort.
More than reputation.
More than habit.
More than sin, we refuse to bury.
More than the small kingdoms we build for ourselves.
Final thought:
Do you love Me more than these?
Signing off,
Tyrone
No comments:
Post a Comment