Leave behind the lights of the city, and you can see the night sky like never before. As your eyes adjust, pupils opening wide, even the faintest light of the most distant stars begins to sparkle. The dark helps you see the light. But not always. In John 3, Nicodemus comes to Jesus at night, and the darkness in him is so great, it's impossible for him to see the light. He doesn't just need new or better eyes though, he needs to be transformed completely. He must be born again. A new life that comes only through death. John 3:1-15 shows us how Jesus, the light of life, drives out the darkness, that we might have new life in him.

In the Old Covenant, priests had highly symbolic clothing. Among it was a breastplate, which contained four rows of precious stones, each inscribed with the name of one of the twelve tribes of Israel. As the high priest went about his work, he did so with the names of the people on his heart. Jesus, our great high priest, is hours from the cross, and we are on his heart. So he prays. He prayed for his glory. He prayed that we would be kept. And now, he prays for our unity in John 17:20-26. But unity isn't an end in itself, it's unity that points us toward the Son's desire, what he ultimately wants for his beloved people.

That the hour has come for Jesus means more than the cross; it means he'll soon be leaving the disciples. He is returning to the Father, but the disciples won't be joining him. Yet. The disciples will remain in the world, a dangerous place for a follower of Jesus to be. The world hates us and the evil one is against us. So Jesus prays for us. With danger on the horizon, Jesus prays for your joy. It's not the help you might have asked of him, but he knows it's the very thing you need.

Out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks. And the same is true for our prayers. The words you speak to God reveal something about your heart. In John 17, on the night of his arrest, just hours before the cross, Jesus prayed. What do his words reveal about his heart? Astonishingly, we find ourselves there. Soon to be lifted up in shame, Jesus first lifted you up in prayer. It's a prayer for your protection from the spiritual dangers of a world set against the Lord and his own. And he begins by asking for his own glory. What does his glory have to do with your endurance? Everything. Look at John 17:1-5 to hear Jesus begin his prayer for you and pray, "glorify your Son."

Two disciples talk on their way from Jerusalem to Emmaus. It's the morning Jesus rose from the dead. News of an empty tomb is getting around, but it's no consolation. Jesus was not there. Little did they know, he would join them on the road—their closest companion presenting as a stranger. What would Jesus say to these beleaguered disciples? What would they say to this "stranger" about him? And what is the Holy Spirit saying to us through this touching account of disciples transformed—not by an encounter with Jesus in person, but in the Scriptures? It is there in the Word of God rightly interpreted in light of Christ that sad hearts turn sunny, that broken hearts burn with love for him.

In Luke 23:50–24:12 we come to Luke's account of the resurrection of Christ. We read this account as those who believe in the risen Lord Jesus, as did Luke's readers. The resurrection is in our confession of faith, after all. Luke is not evangelizing us. He is, rather, assuring us of the certainty of the things we have heard (Luke 1:4). But even more, he is assuring us of the certainty of Jesus' reliable word. In this account we meet the disciples in their grief and confusion. And Jesus meets them—as he meets us—with an announcement of great hope: life from the dead.

Jesus came to earth with a burst of light in the dead of night; he died under the cover of darkness at high noon. The only thing more impossible to ignore than Jesus' life was his death—accompanied by signs in the heavens, a loud cry from the cross, and the response of eye witnesses of every kind. Luke 23:44–49 recounts the story of the death of Christ, the hours before and its aftermath. Don't miss what Christ did on the cross.

Everyone at some point in their life cries; some more than others. We may generally attribute crying as something only children do, but the truth is we all do it. But what are we to make of a king crying? In Psalm 17 we consider the king who cries, why he cries, and to whom he cries. Most importantly, let us look to his hope amidst his cry.

God is the inheritance of his people if they take refuge in him. Psalm 16 reassures the saints that they can dwell securely through the hardships and dangers of life because God is always near. God is faithful to preserve his people in every present trouble and lead us to pleasures forevermore. Through this Psalm we rejoice together that God is our portion and we belong in his presence.

What was on Jesus' mind as he was led to the cross? When he was crucified? Or, rather, who was on Jesus' mind? Surely, he thought of his own sufferings. He experienced his sufferings in his full humanity. But going by what Luke records Jesus actually saying, we can only conclude that it is we who were on Jesus' mind. In Luke 23:26–43, we not only follow Jesus from his trial to his crucifixion, but hear his heart for us. Even as he was crucified, he cared.