Erica Lugg takes the series into John 3:22-36, opening with a recap of the gospel so far: the Word who was in the beginning, John the Baptist, water turned to wine at Cana, the temple cleansing, and last week Nicodemus and John 3:16. Then the passage: Jesus and his disciples baptising in the Judean countryside while John baptises at Enon near Salim, where a debate breaks out over ceremonial cleansing.
She loves the human side of John’s gospel and finds it challenging, because its humans behave in ways humans are very good at. Enon means “many waters” and Salim means “peace” — a place of cleansing and preparation, and right in the middle of it an argument begins. She likens it to a harmonious Christmas dinner that disintegrates the moment politics or religion comes up, and to a candle shop at Crystal Peaks, ruined inside a minute by a two-year-old who wanted a stuffed giraffe. Washing was not new, but John was preaching an inner cleansing, a repentance, pointing to Jesus. She suspects the argument was really about whose way was better — “we’ve always done it like this”.
Their language gives them away: they call Jesus “that man” although they knew his name, and they complain that everybody is going to him instead of us. A disciple gave their whole life to a rabbi, their identity wrapped up in his; John was a big deal, so their worth came from his success, and the crowds moving to Jesus must have felt like losing themselves. She recognises it: she wants to feel significant, and she told Nick beforehand she wanted to go home because it made her feel insecure.
Her illustration is her childhood in Ghana: after the 1979 revolution she became convinced her father would die unless she was with him — a conviction that made school impossible until her parents locked her in a car. What the disciples wanted was reassurance; John neither dismisses nor agrees, saying a person can receive only what is given from heaven — you did not earn this and cannot lose it. He says plainly that he is not the Messiah, : insecurity is a matter of the heart and it takes a saviour. Her two asides land hardest — the people in your life are not your Messiah, and you are not the Messiah either. Then John changes their lens: the bride belongs to the bridegroom, so it was never about them — they are the friend at the wedding, close but not central. “He must become greater and I must become less” is the crux, and the antidote is letting the Holy Spirit fill the space fear has taken.
Bible passages
Key points
Calls to action
Watch the video: https://youtu.be/uP2U0Z8S_48