John 14:23

This verse comes from Jesus's final evening with his twelve closest followers, the night before his arrest and death. One of them — a man named Judas (not Judas Iscariot, who later betrayed Jesus, but another disciple with the same name) — asks why Jesus reveals himself to his followers but not to the wider world. Jesus's answer reframes the question entirely. The issue is not selective visibility on his part; it is the condition of relationship on ours. Love for Jesus expresses itself in obedience to his teaching, and in response, both God the Father and Jesus himself come and take up permanent residence — they "make their home" — with that person. The image is one of intimate, ongoing presence, not a distant or one-time encounter.

Jesus, I want more than just knowledge about you — I want the kind of relationship where you actually feel at home in my life. Show me where I have been keeping you at a comfortable distance, and give me the courage to love you in a way that actually moves my feet. Come and stay. Amen.

Most of us have, at some point in a dark or confusing stretch of life, wished God would just be more obvious. A sign. A burning bush. Something concrete enough to silence the doubt that shows up at 3 AM when the worries get loud. Judas — not the betrayer, but another of the disciples that night — is basically asking the same thing: why not just make yourself unmistakably clear to everyone? Jesus does not answer the question directly. He redirects it. The question is not whether God shows up. The question is whether there is room. "We will come to him and make our home with him." Home is where you drop the performance. Home is where you are known without having to explain yourself first. Jesus is not describing a mystical flash of presence at a retreat — he is describing the kind of ordinary, residential closeness that shows up on a groggy Wednesday morning or in the quiet after a hard phone call. And he ties it to love that actually moves your feet: obedience not as the price of admission, but as what genuine love naturally does. The question worth sitting with is not whether you believe this in theory. It is whether your actual, daily life has any space — not just sentiment — for someone to move in.