Entrusting

“While He was in Jerusalem at the Passover Feast, many people saw the signs He was doing and believed in His name. But Jesus did not entrust Himself to them, for He knew them all. He did not need any testimony about mankind, for he knew what was in each person.”

John 2:23-25

The word entrust here strikes me. To trust means to put confidence in something/someone, to entrust means to put something into someone's care or protection. Despite his new followers’ belief in him, despite their affirmation and praise, Jesus did not entrust himself to them. He did not look to them for his confidence, or for his care or protection. He looked elsewhere.

This short scripture brought to mind a beautiful, short essay by Henri Nouwen that a friend shared with me recently, called “Moving from Solitude, to Community, to Ministry.” He writes:

Who am I? I am the beloved. That's the voice Jesus heard when he came out of the Jordan River: "You are my beloved; on you my favor rests." And Jesus says to you and to me that we are loved as he is loved. That same voice is there for you. When you are not claiming that voice, you cannot walk freely in this world. 

Jesus listened to that voice all the time, and he was able to walk right through life. People were applauding him, laughing at him; praising him and rejecting him; calling "Hosanna!" and calling "Crucify!" But in the midst of that, Jesus knew one thing—I am the beloved; I am God's favorite one. He clung to that voice. 

There are many other voices speaking—loudly: "Prove that you are the beloved." "Prove you're worth something." "Prove you have any contribution to make." "Do something relevant." "Be sure you make a name for yourself." "At least have some power—then people will love you; then people will say you're wonderful, you're great." These voices are so strong in this world. 

These were the voices Jesus heard right after he heard "You are my beloved." Another voice said, "Prove you are the beloved. Do something. Change these stones into bread. Be sure you're famous. Jump from the temple, and you will be known. Grab some power so you have real influence. Don't you want some influence? Isn't that why you came?" 

Jesus said, "No, I don't have to prove anything. I am already the beloved.

Jesus knew that he couldn’t listen to their voices, that he couldn’t entrust his well-being, his mission, his purpose in their affirmation or approval. For he knew them. He knew that entrusting himself in this way to anyone would mean being beholden to their expectations and demands. He knew that when the day came when he did not live into their vision of who he was supposed to be in their eyes, that they would turn on him. But most importantly, he knew that building his life on the sole truth of his Father’s love, and living his life rooted in and flowing out of that truth was the only way to live freely, and truly, into who His Father designed him to be - Israel’s Messiah, King, Israel’s Savior and Good Shepherd. 

Jesus’ ministry was not something that he “did”, it was something that he was. Nouwen adds:

That's where ministry starts, because your freedom is anchored in claiming your belovedness. That allows you to go into this world and touch people, heal them, speak with them, and make them aware that they are beloved, chosen, and blessed. When you discover your belovedness by God, you see the belovedness of other people and call that forth. It's an incredible mystery of God's love that the more you know how deeply you are loved, the more you will see how deeply your sisters and your brothers in the human family are loved. 

Now this is not easy. Jesus spent the night in prayer. That's a picture of the fact that prayer is not something you always feel. It's not a voice you always hear with these ears. It's not always an insight that suddenly comes to you in your little mind. (God's heart is greater than the human heart, God's mind is greater than the human mind, and God's light is so great that it might blind you and make you feel like you're in the night.) 

But you have to pray. You have to listen to the voice who calls you the beloved, because otherwise you will run around begging for affirmation, for praise, for success. And then you're not free. 

What does it mean for us to entrust ourselves to God, and God alone? What could it look like to commit daily to the most unexpectedly life-changing discipline of simply receiving the truth of our belovedness in prayer with our Father? Can you imagine receiving each day such a depth of love that casts out all fear, a love that fills us so deeply that we can do nothing else but give it away? In the final section of the essay, Nouwen writes:

All the disciples of Jesus are called to ministry. Ministry is not, first of all, something that you do (although it calls you to do many things). Ministry is something that you have to trust. If you know you are the beloved, and if you keep forgiving those with whom you form community and celebrate their gifts, you cannot do other than minister. 

Jesus cured people not by doing all sorts of complicated things. A power went out from him, and everyone was cured. He didn't say, "Let me talk to you for ten minutes, and maybe I can do something about this." Everyone who touched him was cured, because a power went out from his pure heart. He wanted one thing—to do the will of God. He was the completely obedient one, the one who was always listening to God. Out of this listening came an intimacy with God that radiated out to everyone Jesus saw and touched. 

Ministry means you have to trust that. You have to trust that if you are the son and daughter of God, power will go out from you and that people will be healed. 

Lord, may we entrust our souls to you and you alone! And as you so love us, may we love one another. Amen.