An essay tracing five New Testament concerns—Christ’s saving work, faith, abiding, shared life, and resurrection hope—back to the one living relationship.
When I read the New Testament, I find myself coming back to one thing. God has given us His Son, and He has brought us into a life with Him. There is much to understand, but I am beginning to see how everything belongs within that living relationship.
Jesus said, “Abide in me, and I in you” (John 15:4). Those words seem to hold together so much of what follows. We receive Him, we learn to live in Him, His life finds expression through us, and we look toward the day when His work will be complete.
I want to stay close to that simplicity. I can become occupied with understanding every teaching and finding the right words to explain it. Yet the Person I am trying to explain is already present. I need to remain with Him in the very things I am learning.
This begins with who Jesus is and what He has done. Paul wrote that “Christ died for our sins” and that “he rose again the third day” (1 Corinthians 15:3–4). Our life with God rests upon His giving of Himself. His death and resurrection make this fellowship possible.
That helps me remember where the beginning is. Before I knew to turn toward Him, He had already acted in love. Before I could offer anything, He had given Himself. I come with empty hands. Whatever follows grows from something I could never have supplied.
Jesus calls us to repent and believe. I understand that as a turning toward Him with our actual lives. We bring the things we have trusted, the ways we have defended ourselves, and the burdens we have carried. We begin learning to entrust ourselves to the One who receives us.
Paul says, “For by grace are ye saved through faith” (Ephesians 2:8). Grace leaves room for someone who has nothing to boast about. I need that. I do not want my failures to keep me away from Him, or my successes to persuade me that I can manage without Him.
I am learning that turning to Him can be very simple. A quiet opening of the heart may be all I can offer, and even that response depends upon His patient working.
Receiving Him is the beginning of a continuing life in Him. The branch remains in the vine because all its life comes from there. I find comfort in that picture. The Lord knows how completely we depend upon Him. His invitation to abide takes that dependence into account.
John writes, “God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in his Son” (1 John 5:11). This is what I mean when I speak of Zoe. It is the divine life we have received in Christ. The source remains the Son Himself, present with us and within us.
Paul describes this inward reality when he says, “yet not I, but Christ liveth in me” (Galatians 2:20). The Spirit brings that reality into our daily living. Our thoughts, desires, words, and actions become places where His life can work. Even familiar habits can come into His light.
I need this in ordinary moments. When I am tired, when I feel overlooked, when I am certain that someone else should understand me, I can become absorbed in my own reaction. There is room to turn toward the Lord there. He is already present in that unfinished moment.
Sometimes His working may bring something to confess. Sometimes it may mean speaking honestly, or letting go of words I wanted to say. I cannot decide beforehand what His life will produce. I can remain open to Him and respond as He makes something clear.
This is also where the New Testament’s repeated call to love belongs. Jesus speaks of loving God and our neighbor, and of loving one another as He has loved us. John brings us back to God’s own love as the source. The life we receive from Him reaches toward others.
I want to be careful here. It is easy for me to hear the command and begin trying to produce the result by myself. Yet the love Jesus describes belongs to His life. As Zoe has room within us, His love can find expression through our actual words and actions.
That love has substance. Someone’s need matters. A brother’s burden matters. Forgiveness reaches into a real injury. The inward life touches what happens between people. We begin to share something that comes from Christ, and our life together becomes a place where He can be known.
I would like to learn to trust His working in others as well. The same Lord who lives in me lives in my brothers and sisters. There is room to receive what comes from Him through them. Our shared life depends upon His presence in each of us.
And this life carries a hope beyond what we can see today. The New Testament points us toward Christ’s return, the resurrection, and a renewed creation. The One we know inwardly now will bring His people into the fullness of what He has promised. We are being carried toward that day.
I cannot explain every detail of what is coming. I can receive the promise that God will dwell with His people and wipe away their tears. “Behold, I make all things new” (Revelation 21:5). There is tenderness in that promise for every unfinished and painful part of our lives.
Perhaps this is why I keep returning to abiding. It gives me somewhere to stand while so much remains unfinished. The Christ who gave Himself for us is the Christ who lives in us now. His love is at work, and our future remains in His hands.
I want to give Him room in this day. I want to receive what He supplies, respond to His inward working, and allow His life to reach others. Whatever I still need to learn, I can begin here, with the One who has already given Himself to us.
Scripture quotations: King James Version.
Companion readings
Dear Ray: The One Thing — A personal letter to Ray about remaining in Christ amid ordinary demands, distraction, and spiritual dryness.
The One Thing, Brother — A quiet reflection on the Son’s eternal communion with the Father becoming the inward reality of prayer, suffering, and abiding.
The Blessing of Remaining — Christ Himself within suffering and unanswered questions.
