Day 211: John 13:21–30

One of His disciples, the one Jesus loved, was reclining close beside Jesus. Simon Peter motioned to him to find out who it was He was talking about (vv. 23–24).

John’s location at the Passover meal constitutes one of the chief reasons many scholars believe John was the youngest disciple. At the traditional Jewish Passover, the youngest child at the table who is able to talk often sits nearest the father or father figure and asks the traditional questions that prompt the father to tell the story of deliverance from Egypt. The room was small enough for Peter to ask Jesus a question even if he was seated at the opposite end of the table. The fact that he prompted John to ask the question suggests that John may have assumed the role as the official petitioner that evening.

I also love imagining that the youngest among them might have had the least protocol and acted as he felt, not just according to what was proper. Hence his leaning against Jesus. Glory! You see, there’s just nothing doctrinal about John’s leaning on Jesus. It wasn’t the law. It wasn’t in the proverbial Passover book of rules. John didn’t have to lean on Jesus to talk to Him. Christ could hear him just fine. John leaned on Him because he wanted to. Because he loved Him. Because He was . . . leanable. Approachable. Downright lovable.

Both of my daughters are very affectionate, but my older is without a doubt more proper. My youngest wouldn’t know the word “protocol” if it were tattooed on her forehead. (I hope I don’t give her any ideas. She’s threatened a tattoo before.) From the clues we gather here and there, I like to think that John was somehow the same way with Jesus. Very likely, he was the baby of this family. And his affection for Jesus wasn’t encumbered by silly things like protocol. I love that about him.

One of our primary tasks through this journey is to explore the deep affection that flowed like a teeming brook between Jesus and John. I’ll just be honest with you. I want what they had. I want what God and David had. I want what Christ and Paul had. If a mortal can experience it with the Immortal Invisible, I want it. I want to know this love that surpasses knowledge so that I may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God (Eph. 3:19). All else is just an empty way of life handed down by bored and unmotivated forefathers. No thanks. Give me Jesus. If I make someone else uncomfortable, well . . . that’s just too bad.