The best book I’ve ever read about Jesus

As we begin a new teaching series on the Gospel of John - ‘Follow Me’ - I wanted to offer you some more ways to focus on the person of Jesus Christ over the coming weeks. The first is the best book I’ve ever read about Jesus! It has helped me enormously to enjoy and trust in Jesus and to eagerly seek his company. 

‘Gentle and Lowly’, by Dane Ortlund’ is simply superb. Never before have I seen so clearly just how utterly compelling and beautiful the character of Jesus is. As Ortlund points out, much has been written about the work of Christ but perhaps less on his nature; who he is as opposed to what he has done. And so Ortlund sets to work on unpacking the majesty and depth behind Jesus’ one self disclosure of his character in Matt 11:28-30

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Ortlund’s pastoral heart is clear. He recognises one of the central struggles of the Christian:

This book is written for … those whose Christian lives feel like constantly running up a descending escalator … it is for that increasing suspicion that God’s patience with us is wearing thin. For those of us who know God loves us but suspect we have deeply disappointed him. (p13)   

By mining the Scriptures deeply and drawing on the profound wisdom of the Puritans, Ortlund opened my own heart up to its insecurities and fears (I don’t measure up and when I sin or suffer Jesus is less devoted to me). But far more so, he opened up Christ’s heart to demonstrate the glorious truth that Jesus is especially delighted to come towards me when I struggle and stumble. Consider these selection of quotes: 

[The] high and holy Christ does not cringe at reaching out and touching dirty sinners and numbed sufferers. Such embrace is precisely what he loves to do. He cannot bear to hold back. We naturally think of Jesus touching us the way a little boy reaches out to touch a slug for the first time—face screwed up, cautiously extending an arm, giving a yelp of disgust upon contact, and instantly withdrawing …This is why we need a Bible. Our natural intuition can only give us a God like us (p24) 

That God is rich in mercy means that your regions of deepest shame and regret are not hotels through which divine mercy passes but homes in which divine mercy abides. It means the things about you that make you cringe most, make him hug hardest. It means his mercy is not calculating and cautious, like ours. It is unrestrained, flood-like, sweeping, magnanimous. It means our haunting shame is not a problem for him, but the very thing he loves most to work with. It means our sins do not cause his love to take a hit. Our sins cause his love to surge forward all the more. It means on that day when we stand before him, quietly, unhurriedly, we will weep with relief, shocked at how impoverished a view of his mercy-rich heart we had. (179–80)

Now more than ever I am freshly aware of the loving smile and tender gaze of Jesus and as result I come as I am more eagerly, humbly and securely. If you want the same, I would urge you to buy this book or borrow one of the copies I have.