Jesus spoke with urgency about the work his Father had sent him to do: “I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work” (John 9:4, KJV). He then spoke of himself as the light of the world. His presence among the people was an opportunity to hear, to see, and to respond to the work of God.

He taught in their streets and synagogues. He healed the sick, opened blind eyes, and called people to repentance. Through his words and his works, he made known the Father who had sent him. Yet the time of his earthly ministry would not continue indefinitely. There was work to complete while it was day.

I understand the approaching night first in relation to his death. The hands that healed would be pierced. The voice that taught openly among the people would fall silent in death. His ministry was moving toward an appointed hour, and he understood the urgency of what lay before him.

The Light Among His Own People

We must remember whose story we are reading. Jesus was Jewish. His apostles were Jewish, and the first community of believers arose within Jewish life, Scripture, and worship. As the gospel spread, Gentiles entered the church, but its beginnings were rooted in Israel’s promises and its expectation of the Messiah.

When Jesus spoke, he spoke among his own people. The Scriptures they treasured bore witness to the work he had come to fulfill. From among these same people came those who received his word, followed him, and later proclaimed his resurrection to the nations.

There were also those who resisted him. Before Pilate, a crowd persuaded by the chief priests and elders asked for Barabbas to be released and Jesus to be crucified. Matthew records the crowd’s declaration concerning his blood being upon them and their children. These were grave words spoken in that particular scene. That crowd did not speak for every Jewish person, nor should its words become an accusation against later generations. Pilate ordered Jesus’ punishment, and Roman soldiers carried out the crucifixion.

Within the same people were those who loved Jesus, mourned him, and remained his disciples. The Jewish beginnings of the church belong at the heart of our understanding of these events.

The Time of Visitation

As Jesus drew near to Jerusalem, he wept over the city. In Luke 19:41–44, he spoke of the things belonging to its peace and foretold the suffering of a siege. His sorrow concerned a visitation that had gone unrecognized. God had come near, and many had not understood who stood among them.

These were tears for his own people. He saw the opportunity before them, and he saw the suffering that lay ahead. His grief gives depth to the urgency of working while it is day.

In A.D. 70, roughly forty years after his crucifixion, Roman forces destroyed Jerusalem and the Temple during the Jewish revolt against Rome. Resistance elsewhere continued afterward, but the destruction of the city and its sanctuary profoundly changed the lives of the people. Worship centered on the Temple could no longer continue as before. The catastrophe brought death, captivity, displacement, and grief.

I read that devastation alongside Jesus’ warning and his tears over Jerusalem. John’s passage about the approaching night does not explicitly name A.D. 70, but Luke’s account of the coming siege gives us a direct connection to consider. Within a generation, the city experienced the ruin Jesus had foretold.

Yet the night of Christ’s death was followed by resurrection. Death did not extinguish his light. He rose, and his disciples continued the work through the power of the Holy Spirit. The urgency of his words remains, while the resurrection keeps the grave from becoming the end of the story.

A Light at the Gate

The account of the rich man and Lazarus brings the responsibility to respond into the daily life of one household.

In Luke 16:19–31, the rich man lived in abundance while Lazarus lay at his gate, suffering and longing for what fell from his table. There was an opportunity before the rich man to show mercy while both men lived.

In this sense, I see Lazarus as a light at the gate. The passage does not describe him preaching, but his suffering made visible the neighbor whom the rich man was called to love. Moses and the prophets had already taught care for the poor. Lazarus’s presence brought that teaching to his doorstep.

The gate became a place where the word could have become action. The rich man had the means to help, and a person in need lay within his reach.

After death, the rich man asked Abraham to send Lazarus to his father’s house, where he had five brothers. He wanted someone to warn them so that they would not come into the same place of torment. Abraham answered that they had Moses and the prophets; they should hear them.

The rich man believed that someone returning from the dead would move them to repent. Abraham answered that if they would not hear Moses and the prophets, they would not be persuaded even by someone rising from the dead.

Lazarus would not be sent back to supply the warning they requested. The word they needed was already available. They were responsible for hearing it and allowing it to change the way they lived.

Receiving the Word While It Is Day

Jerusalem and the rich man’s household present different circumstances, yet both accounts confront us with an opportunity that went unrecognized. Jesus came among his people doing the works of the Father. Lazarus lay at the gate of a man whose knowledge of the word should have moved him to mercy.

We must bring that question into our own lives. We can hear the Scriptures and postpone obedience. We can wait for another sign while neglecting what God has already made plain. We can speak about love and still pass by the person who needs it.

The word we receive calls us to become responsible for what we understand. If we hear about mercy, whose suffering will we answer? If we recognize a wrong, what will we do to repair it? If we have been given an opportunity to reconcile, will we take it?

There is urgency in the words “while it is day.” We have this present opportunity to listen, repent, reconcile, and serve. We do not know how long a particular door will remain open or how long the person who needs us will remain within our reach.

The daylight of our lives is a gift. There is a word of peace to speak, a neighbor to serve, a wrong to repair, and a truth to receive.

Let us hear the word through those who faithfully bring it. Let us recognize the person at our gate whose need calls that word into action. Let us receive the light and allow it to change the way we live.

While it is day, let us do the work God has given us.

Lenwood León Jack · Cornerstone 1131