Solomon’s Porch was a long, covered colonnade on the eastern side of the outer part of the Temple. It had become a public place of teaching and religious identity where both Jew and Gentile could gather. It was often a place of open air debate. Later, Luke tells us in Acts that it became a common place for the early Church to gather.
In today’s passage, in the midst of a festival (Dedication, or what has become Hanukkah), Jesus revealed his divine identity. The Feast of Dedication celebrates God’s deliverance. Their question—Are you the Christ?—isn’t just historical. It’s a question that lingers, one we still ask today in different ways.
Do you ever ask Jesus such direct questions? It’s likely most everyone does (though perhaps not with the “circling”). So before we fault the opposition for their question, stand with them for a moment.
Even for those of us confident in our faith, some questions still demand to be asked:
When you coming back, sir? (Soon?)
Are we supposed to make nations Christian (because that seems to be the mode operandi these days)?
Should we pay taxes knowing that they fund significant violence throughout the world?
What did you write in the dirt?
Why do good things happen to bad people?
And…when are you coming back, SIR!?
First off, God can handle our questions. We should ask them. Reading the psalms is a great help with this. Asking our questions is not necessarily disrespectful or challenging. It is a part of prayer and the human experience.
But notice that Jesus’ response is helpful here: I have told you, but you don’t believe.
Belief is a key element in the gospel of John. Facts remain, and our observations matter—Jesus himself points to his works as evidence. But in the end, we have to make a choice as to whether to believe or not. We don’t have access to the miraculous signs Jesus performed (something Jesus acknowledges later in John). Even so, we can shift our perspective to note the work of Christ in the world today. (Where is there peace kindling? Where is there love? Where is the thing happening that mystifies all reason?)
In the end, belief is still a choice—just as it was for those who first encountered Jesus.
John 10:22-30
The time came for the Festival of Dedication in Jerusalem. It was winter, and Jesus was in the temple, walking in the covered porch named for Solomon. The Jewish opposition circled around him and asked, “How long will you test our patience? If you are the Christ, tell us plainly.”
Jesus answered, “I have told you, but you don’t believe. The works I do in my Father’s name testify about me, but you don’t believe because you don’t belong to my sheep. My sheep listen to my voice. I know them and they follow me. I give them eternal life. They will never die, and no one will snatch them from my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them from my Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.”
Psalm 23:1-3
The Lord is my shepherd. I lack nothing. He lets me rest in grassy meadows; he leads me to restful waters; he keeps me alive.
Prayer
God,
You have spoken. You have revealed yourself. And yet, I still have questions.
Like those who gathered in Solomon’s Porch, I want clarity. I want certainty. I want answers that settle things once and for all. But you call me to faith—not blind faith, but a faith that listens, sees, and chooses to trust even when all my questions aren’t answered the way I want them to be.
Help me to believe not just in words, but in the deep trust that shapes my life. Open my eyes to your work in the world today, in places where love, peace, and grace break through against all odds and against human efforts. Keep my heart from becoming so hardened by doubt or distraction that I miss you standing right in front of me.
And when I struggle, remind me that belief is not the absence of questions but the presence of trust.
By your Spirit & in Christ,
Amen.