There’s something striking about this moment in the Gospel. It’s tense, almost uncomfortable. Jesus is speaking plainly, but the people around Him can’t quite grasp what He’s saying and instead of leaning in, they push back harder. You can almost feel the frustration in the air.
When Jesus says, “If anyone keeps my word, he will never see death,” they take Him literally. They think in terms of physical death, something unavoidable, something they’ve already seen happen to Abraham and the prophets. But Jesus is speaking about something deeper, something beyond what the eye can see. He’s talking about a life that doesn’t end, a relationship with God that death itself cannot break.
And then He goes even further. “Before Abraham was, I am.” That statement isn’t just bold it’s everything. In that moment, Jesus isn’t just saying He existed before Abraham. He’s revealing who He truly is. The “I AM” echoes the very name of God revealed to Moses. It’s no wonder they react the way they do. It shakes everything they think they know.
But here’s the thing, this Gospel isn’t just about them. It’s about us too.
We live in a world that often measures everything in what we can see, touch, and prove. Success, money, status, influence these are the things people chase. Even faith can sometimes become something we keep on the surface, something we fit into our schedule rather than something that truly shapes how we live.
And yet Jesus is inviting us into something deeper. He’s saying that real life, eternal life starts now, in how we live, in how we listen to Him, in whether we choose to follow His word or not.
During this fifth week of Lent, this Gospel hits differently. Lent is already a time when we’re asked to slow down, to reflect, to let go of distractions. And here, Jesus is almost asking us directly: Do you actually believe me? Do you trust my word enough to live by it?
Because it’s one thing to say we believe. It’s another thing to live it out when it’s inconvenient, when it costs us something, when it means choosing honesty over gain, forgiveness over pride, or faith over fear.
And let’s be honest, today’s world doesn’t make that easy. There’s pressure everywhere, pressure to succeed, to fit in, to keep up appearances, to always be “on.” For the younger generation, there’s a constant noise, social media, comparison, anxiety about the future. For the older generation, there are different burdens, responsibility, regret, the weight of years, trying to hold things together.
In all of this, Jesus’ words cut through the noise: “If anyone keeps my word…” Not just hears it, not just agrees with it. Keeps it, Lives it.
There’s also something beautiful in the way Jesus speaks about Abraham. “Abraham rejoiced to see my day.” Abraham lived long before Jesus walked the earth, yet he trusted God so deeply that he looked forward in hope. That kind of faith, quiet, steady, trusting is something we’re being called back to, especially in a time when everything feels uncertain.
And maybe that’s where this Gospel challenges us most. It’s not just about understanding who Jesus is it’s about deciding what we’re going to do with that truth.
The people in the Gospel picked up stones. Not necessarily because they fully understood, but because they were unsettled, challenged, and unwilling to accept what Jesus was revealing.
We may not pick up stones today, but we do sometimes resist in other ways. We ignore, we delay, we choose comfort over truth, we keep God at a distance when things get too real.
But Lent is a chance to do something different.
It’s a chance to stop running, to listen more closely, and maybe just maybe to trust a little deeper.
Because if what Jesus says is true, and it is then everything changes. Life is no longer just about getting through each day. It becomes about walking with Him, knowing that even in the middle of uncertainty, struggle, or fear, we are held by something greater.
And that’s the quiet hope this Gospel leaves us with.
Even when we don’t fully understand, even when the world feels overwhelming, even when faith feels difficult, He is still who He says He is.
“I AM.”