Hear and Hold

Hear and Hold 

John 10:22-42

One writer nails the human heart with one sentence, “All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.” When was the last time you sat alone in a quiet room for 30 minutes without checking your phone? No multitasking. Not with music playing in the background. No reaching for a screen the moment your mind slows down. Just you… and silence. For most of us, that feels almost impossible. Within seconds, we feel the urge to grab something, check something, distract ourselves with something. Why? Because when the noise fades, the questions get louder. The thoughts we have been avoiding start to surface. The uneasiness we have been outrunning begins to catch up. Silence has a way of exposing what we are trying not to face. Listen to that quote again,

All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.

Those words were written by Blaise Pascal…over 350 years ago. Long before smartphones. Long before social media. Long before endless shows available to stream. Long before the constant buzz of modern life.

And yet he saw something clearly about the human heart. Friends, we are restless. We fill our lives with noise, activity, and distraction because we are trying to outrun a deep uneasiness that lies in our heart. Today, we have more ways to be entertained than ever before, and yet we are more anxious than ever before. And the human heart has not changed. Pascal saw it in mid 1600s, Augustine of Hippo wrote something similar in late 4th century, 1200 years before Pascal,

You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.

We are restless because we have not found our rest in the Lord. Let me ask you again, “When was the last time you sat alone in silence for 30 minutes?” Or maybe I should ask, “Can you sit in a room alone in silence for 30 minutes? If you can’t, maybe you have not found your rest in the Lord. 

The reason we struggle to sit in silence is not just because we are distracted. It is because we are unsettled. Deep down, we are not at rest. And we are not at rest because we do not fully understand the beauty of what God has done for us in Christ or the power of God working for us. If our salvation ultimately rested on us, our performance, our grip on God, our ability to stay faithful, then of course we would be anxious. Of course we would keep filling the silence. Because in the quiet, we would be forced to face the question, “Am I really secure? Am I safe?” But the gospel tells a different story. Our salvation is not built on our strength, but on God’s sovereign grace. It is not sustained by our effort, but by His power. And when we are restless, it is because we forget that. We forget that God saves, God keeps, and God finishes what He starts. And when we lose sight of that, our hearts easily begin to drift back into uncertainty, fear and restlessness. 

Jesus offers us the cure for our restlessness in John 10:22–41. Jesus is not just offering comfort. He is revealing why some believe and others do not, who truly belongs to Him, and why those who are His can rest with absolute security. I want to offer 5 applications from this passage that should lead to finding our rest in the Lord.

Confront Unbelief (vv. 22–26)

Before Jesus comforts His sheep, He confronts those who are not his sheep. Before He gives assurance, He exposes their unbelief, and He does it plainly. John tells us,

“At that time the Feast of the Dedication took place at Jerusalem. It was winter, and Jesus was walking in the temple, in the colonnade of Solomon. So the Jews gathered around him and said to him, ‘How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Christ, tell us plainly.’ Jesus answered them, ‘I told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father’s name bear witness about me, but you do not believe because you are not among my sheep.’” (John 10:22-26)

This moment takes place during a season filled with expectation. The Feast of Dedication celebrated God’s past deliverance and stirred hope for a coming deliverer. It looked back to a time when God rescued His people from oppression, when the temple was reclaimed and restored after being defiled. And because of that history, it fueled a longing that God would act again, that He would send a greater deliverer to rescue His people once and for all.  

Jesus is walking in Solomon’s Colonnade, and the religious leaders surround Him, pressing Him, demanding clarity. “If you are the Christ, tell us plainly.” It sounds sincere at first. It sounds like they just need more information. But Jesus exposes the real issue. “I told you, and you do not believe.” The problem is not that Jesus has been unclear. The problem is that they have been unwilling. He points to His works. Everything He has done bears witness about his identity. He has opened blind eyes, fed thousands from a few loaves, taught with authority, healed the lame man, and through all revealed the Father. He has provided overwhelming  evidence. 

And then Jesus gives a sobering explanation: “You do not believe because you are not among my sheep.” He does not say, “You are not my sheep because you do not believe.” He says, “You do not believe because you are not my sheep.” Belief is not the cause of belonging. Belief is the evidence of belonging. Unbelief is not ultimately intellectual or their lack of knowledge. It is spiritual. 

It is like a radio tuned to the wrong frequency. The signal is there. The message is being broadcast clearly. But if the receiver is not tuned to that frequency, all you hear is noise. You can turn up the volume. You can adjust everything you can think of, but until the receiver is changed, the message will not come through. The problem is not the signal. It is the receiver.

Or better yet, it is like one calling out to someone who is dead. You can speak clearly. You can raise your voice. You can repeat the message again and again. But there will be no response. Not because the message is unclear, but because the person cannot hear. That is what Jesus is saying. His voice is clear. His words are true. But they do not hear because they are not His sheep. It is not that they need more clarity. It is that they need a new nature. Until that happens, the voice of the Shepherd will always sound like noise.

Some of you may say, “I just have questions. I just need more clarity. I just need more time.” And questions are not wrong. But there is a point where questions become a cover. A cover for resisting what you already know. A cover for not wanting your life to change. A cover for not wanting to submit to Christ. And if you are honest, it may be that you just don’t want Him. You do not want to surrender to Him, to trust Him, to give your life over to Him. So ask yourself honestly, is my hesitation really about needing more information, or is it about not wanting to surrender? 

Which brings us to the next application,

Come to His Voice (v. 27) 

There is a shift in the passage here. Jesus moves from confronting those who do not believe to comforting those who do. After exposing unbelief, He now describes what is true of His people. John 10:27, Hear Jesus speak to his people, 

 “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.” 

This is one of the clearest pictures of what it means to belong to Christ. It is more than knowing the facts of the gospel. It is a living, relational response to Him. His sheep hear His voice. This means they recognize Him. There is a spiritual awareness, a responsiveness to the truth of who He is. When the gospel is proclaimed, something in them responds. They do not just analyze His words. They receive them.

And Jesus says, “I know them.” That is personal, covenantal knowledge. He knows them fully. He knows their past, their struggles, their fears, their failures, and yet He still sets His love on them. This is not sheep finding a shepherd. This is a Shepherd who knows His sheep. And because He knows His sheep, His work for them is purposeful as He lays down His life for his sheep.

Earlier in this chapter, He says, “I lay down my life for the sheep.” His death secures a definite rescue of his sheep. He knows who His sheep are. He comes for them. He secures them. When He goes to the cross, He is accomplishing redemption for those the Father has given Him. His death actually saves. It does not simply make salvation possible. It ensures that His sheep will be brought all the way home.

This is a Shepherd who knows His people by name and brings them to Himself. His voice calls, and His sheep respond because they belong to Him. He does not lose track of them. He does not fail to bring them in. His work was always intentional, always directed, always effective in bringing a particular people into His care and keeping them there.

And here is how you see it in their lives, “they follow me.” True hearing leads to following. There is a pattern of life that begins to align with the voice they hear. Following is not what makes them His sheep. Following shows that they are. I remember being in a crowded place with one of my kids when they were younger. Voices everywhere. Loud, chaotic, easy to get lost. I stepped back for a moment, and I could see them, but they could not see me. Within seconds, they were looking around, trying to find me. I could see them getting scared, but then I called out to them. And immediately, they turned. Out of all the voices in that room, they knew mine. They recognized it and moved toward it.

So the question is not simply, have you heard about Jesus. The question is, have you come to His voice. Do you recognize it? Do you respond to it? Is there evidence in your life that you are following Him? Because this is where assurance begins and grows. His sheep hear, are known, and follow. It grows as you walk with Him, as you hear His voice and follow Him day by day. You begin to see His hand in your life, His voice shaping your decisions, His grace sustaining your steps. Your desires change. You keep coming back to Him even after you fail. That steady, ongoing walk with Christ produces a deep assurance that you are His, and He is yours. 

As our confidence in our identity grows, we must continue to, third application, cling to this promise.

Cling to His Promise (vv. 28–30)

Now Jesus moves from description to declaration. He does not merely tell us what His sheep do. He tells us what He does for them. Beloved, our Lord Jesus says of his sheep, in John 10:28-30,

“I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.” 

This is one of the most sweeping assurances in all of Scripture. And every part of it is anchored in the sovereignty of God.

That is why Jesus can speak with such certainty about the outcome. “They will never perish.” The language there is as strong as it can possibly be. It is not a possibility or mere probability, but rather it is a guarantee. Those who belong to Christ will never be lost. And then He adds, “No one will snatch them out of my hand.” The image is powerful. The sheep are held securely in the hand of the Shepherd. And not just the Shepherd. “No one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand.” This is a double grip. The Son holds them. The Father holds them. And Jesus grounds it all in His divine identity. “I and the Father are one.” The security of the sheep rests in the unity and power of God Himself.

Notice first that eternal life is given. “I give them eternal life.” It is not achieved. It is not earned. It is not something we secure by our effort. It is a gift from Christ. That immediately places salvation in the realm of grace, not human merit. And then He says, “My Father, who has given them to me.” The sheep belong to Christ because the Father has given them to Him. This is the doctrine of election. Before there was ever a response from us, there was a decision from God. Before we ever came to Christ, we were given to Christ. Salvation begins with God, not with us.

And this is not an isolated statement, but runs throughout the Gospel of John, beginning in the opening chapter. In John 1:12–13, we read, 

But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.

Receiving Christ is necessary, but the response is grounded in God’s work. The new birth is not ultimately the result of human will, but divine will. We believe because we have been born of God. The root of salvation is not our decision, but God’s regeneration.

Jesus makes this even clearer in John 6. In John 6:37, He says, 

All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out.

The giving of the Father precedes the coming of the sinner. Both are necessary, but the call of God comes first. Then in John 6:39, He says, 

This is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day.

The mission of the Son is not uncertain. He does not come hoping to save. He comes to secure those the Father has given Him. And in John 6:44, He adds, 

No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him.” 

Left to ourselves, we do not come. But when the Father draws, the sinner comes. The call of God creates the response of faith.

This is the very truth Jesus is declaring here in John 10. The Father gives a people to the Son, the Son gives them eternal life, and no one can snatch them from His hand. And this theme continues even into Jesus’ final days in his high priestly prayer. In John 17:2, He says, 

You have given him [the Son] authority over all flesh, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him.

 And in John 17:12, Jesus declares,

I kept them in your name, which you have given me. I have guarded them, and not one of them has been lost except the son of destruction, that the Scripture might be fulfilled.

 From beginning to end, the Gospel of John presents a unified testimony. God gives life. God draws sinners. God saves His people. And God keeps them to the end.

And even in John 15:16, Jesus after reminding his disciples of his friendship with them and the greatest act of friendship is laying down one’s life for them, he tells disciples, 

You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit.” 

The initiative belongs to Him, and the fruit flows from that choice. From the opening chapter to the final prayer, the message is consistent. God chooses his sheep. The Father has given them to the Son. And Son will keep them to the end. That is why the promise of John 10 is so unshakable. Eternal life is given by Christ, secured by the Father, and carried all the way to completion by the sovereign power of God. And if this is true, it should lead us to deep rest and security.

And yet, even with all of this clarity, something in us still resists this idea. Why is there resistance in our hearts to this truth? Part of that resistance may be  pride. We might want to believe that we played a decisive role, that we contributed something, that we chose our way into salvation by our own wisdom or effort. There is something in us that hesitates to fully embrace a salvation that is entirely of God because it leaves no room for boasting. 

And part of the resistance may be emotional, and this is where it touches our love for others. We think about friends, neighbors, family members who do not know Christ, and something in us pulls back. We do not want to say that apart from God’s work they will not come. We want to believe that with enough clarity, enough effort, enough time, they will figure it out. And we feel the weight of it. We want them to be saved. We pray for them. We long for them to know Christ. So this doctrine can feel unsettling relationally.

And I know many of you wrestle with this. You feel the tension. You take the scriptures very seriously and want to honor God in your understanding of salvation. You read passages like this and wonder how it all fits together. But Scripture does not present God’s sovereignty and human responsibility as competing ideas. It presents them side by side as true. God is sovereign in salvation. He chooses, He draws, He gives life. And at the same time, people are called to repent, to believe, to come to Christ. We do not have to resolve that tension in order to trust it. We hold both because the Bible teaches both. And pastorally, that means we can rest in God’s power while still calling people to respond. We can pray with confidence and share the gospel with urgency. We can love deeply, speak clearly, and trust that God is at work in ways we cannot see.

And this is where it becomes more than a theological discussion. If we begin to push against this truth, even subtly, if we try to reshape it so that it fits more comfortably within our own understanding, it will not remain theoretical. It will begin to affect where we place our confidence. It will begin to shape how we think about our own salvation. Because what we believe about how salvation begins will always shape what we believe about how it continues and how it ends.

But in doing that, we do not make salvation better. We make it more fragile. When we resist the sovereignty of God in salvation, we unintentionally place the weight of our assurance back onto ourselves. If salvation ultimately depends on my decision, my consistency, my grip on Christ, then my assurance will rise and fall with me. On my best days, I may feel secure. On my worst days, I will feel lost. But when salvation is rooted in God’s sovereign grace, everything changes. Assurance is no longer grounded in my performance, but in Christ’s work. Not in my ability to hold on, but in His promise to keep. Resisting this truth does not protect us. It robs us. It robs us of the deep, steady, unshakable assurance that comes from knowing that the God who saves is the God who keeps to the very end.

This is the doctrine of the perseverance of the saints or more commonly called, “once saved, always saved.” Those whom God saves, He keeps. Those whom the Father gives to the Son, the Son will not lose. Salvation is not maintained by human strength. It is preserved by divine power. If it were up to us, we would lose it. If it depended on our consistency, our faithfulness, our grip on Christ, none of us would make it. But our hope is not in our grip on Him. It is in His grip on us.

At the same time, this promise must be understood rightly. Jesus is speaking about His sheep. The ones who hear His voice and follow Him. This is not a blanket assurance for anyone who has ever made a profession at some point in their life. This is not “once prayed, always saved” as a slogan that ignores the rest of Scripture. The promise of security belongs to those who truly belong to Christ. And those who truly belong to Christ will persevere. They will continue. They will follow because they are his sheep. 

Think of Peter. He denied Jesus three times. In that moment, it looked like everything had fallen apart. But Jesus had already said in Luke 22:31-32, 

Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers” 

Peter failed, but his faith did not fail ultimately. Why? Because Christ was holding him. That is the difference. There is a kind of failure that leads to falling away, and there is a kind of failure that leads to repentance. The difference is not the strength of the person. It is the faithfulness of the Savior.

I have stood at the bedside of believers in their final moments, when the body is weak, the mind is fading, and everything external is slipping away. And yet, there is a quiet confidence and a settled assurance. A peace that comes from the One who has promised to give them eternal life. They are being carried in those final moments. There is a difference between someone trying to hold on and someone who knows they are being held.

So here is where rest begins. Not in looking inward at how strong your faith is, but in looking upward at how strong your Savior is. He gives life. He keeps His people. He loses none. The question is not whether He is strong enough to hold you. The question is whether you belong to Him. 

Which brings us to the fourth application, consider his credentials. 

Consider His Credentials (vv. 31–38)

After giving one of the clearest promises of security in all of Scripture, the response is immediate and revealing. “The Jews picked up stones again to stone him.” They are not confused. They understand exactly what Jesus is claiming. John 10:31–38,

“The Jews picked up stones again to stone him. Jesus answered them, ‘I have shown you many good works from the Father; for which of them are you going to stone me?’ The Jews answered him, ‘It is not for a good work that we are going to stone you but for blasphemy, because you, being a man, make yourself God.’ Jesus answered them, ‘Is it not written in your Law, “I said, you are gods”? If he called them gods to whom the word of God came—and Scripture cannot be broken—do you say of him whom the Father consecrated and sent into the world, “You are blaspheming,” because I said, “I am the Son of God”? If I am not doing the works of my Father, then do not believe me; but if I do them, even though you do not believe me, believe the works, that you may know and understand that the Father is in me and I am in the Father.’”

This is important. The people who heard Jesus in real time did not walk away saying, “He never claimed to be God.” They picked up stones because they knew that is exactly what He was claiming. Jesus is not merely presenting Himself as a teacher or a prophet. He is claiming equality with the Father. “The Father is in me and I am in the Father.” That is the issue. That is the dividing line.

Jesus  points them to Scripture, showing that their own Law uses categories that prepare for what He is saying. He asked, “Is it not written in your Law, " then quoted Psalm 82, “I said, you are gods.” In Psalm 82, human judges in Israel are called “gods” not because they are divine, but because they have been entrusted with representing God’s authority as judges on God’s behalf. The title reflects responsibility, not deity. And yet even those men, who were given such a role, failed and were judged by God.

That is Jesus’ argument. If Scripture can use that kind of language for sinful human judges who merely received God’s word, how much more appropriate is it for the One who has been consecrated and sent by the Father. He is not simply a recipient of the word. He is the Word made flesh. He is not a flawed representative. He is the perfect Son. So their charge of blasphemy collapses under the weight of their own Scriptures.

And then Jesus brings them back again to what is right in front of them. “If I am not doing the works of my Father, then do not believe me. But if I do them… believe the works.” Look at the evidence. Blind eyes opened. Authority over creation. Power over sickness. Words that carry the weight of heaven. These are the works of God. His works are not separate from His identity. They reveal His identity. They confirm that He is sent by God and one with God.

This has direct implications for how we speak to others about Christ. We point to what Christ has done in Scripture. We point to the cross where sin was paid for and the resurrection where death was defeated. We point to the transforming work of Christ in real lives, where sinners are changed, where blind eyes are opened spiritually, where hearts that once resisted now follow. Evangelism is not about making Jesus more convincing. It is about making Jesus more visible. We hold up His works, His words, His gospel, and trust that the same God who gives sight will give sight again.

The issue, once again, is not a lack of evidence. It is a refusal to accept what the evidence clearly shows. They are not struggling to understand. They are unwilling to believe. And that is why they move from questioning to violence. When the truth becomes unavoidable, the heart either bows or hardens. And that brings the question back to us. 

What do you do with the claims of Christ? Jesus claims to be the One who gives eternal life; the One who keeps His people; the One who stands in perfect unity with the Father. There is no middle ground here. Either He is who He says He is, or He is not. Either He is worthy of your trust, or He is to be rejected.

Jesus has not left Himself without witness. His words are clear. His works are undeniable. Consider his credentials and lastly, choose your response.

Choose Your Response (vv. 39–41)

And we set yet another passage ending with a divided response. Jesus demands a response. John 10:39–42,

Again they sought to arrest him, but he escaped from their hands. He went away again across the Jordan to the place where John had been baptizing at first, and there he remained. And many came to him. And they said, “John did no sign, but everything that John said about this man was true.” And many believed in him there. 

Even after hearing His words and seeing His works, many try to seize Him. Their hearts are hardened. The truth has become unavoidable, and instead of bowing to it, they resist it.

Then the scene shifts. Jesus withdraws, and people begin to come to Him. And listen to what they say: “John did no sign, but everything that John said about this man was true.” John pointed to Christ, and now they see it clearly. And the result is simple: “And many believed in him there.”

Two responses to the same Jesus. Some try to arrest Him. Others come to Him. Some reject. Others believe. The same words are spoken. The same Christ is revealed. And yet the outcomes are completely different. And friends, this is how it has always been, and this is how it is still today.

And this shapes how we approach evangelism. Our calling is to speak the truth about Christ clearly and faithfully. That is exactly what John did. He did no sign. He did not rely on spectacle. He simply testified about Jesus. He pointed to who Christ is and what He came to do. And here, people look back and say, “Everything that John said about this man was true,” and many believed. That is how God works. We open the Word, we point to Christ, and we trust Him to open eyes. That gives us confidence and steadiness. We can love our neighbors deeply, speak the gospel plainly, and leave the results in God’s hands, knowing that He draws His people through the truth.

If you are not a Christian, consider Him carefully. Listen to what He says. Look at what He has done. His words are not empty, and His works are not random. They point to who He truly is. Do not dismiss Him quickly or keep Him at a distance. Take Him seriously. Weigh His claims. Because He is not asking for casual interest. He is calling for a response. You will not remain neutral. You will either move toward Him or away from Him. You will either trust Him or resist Him. You will either come as one of His sheep or remain outside His fold.

Friends, the message of the gospel is not complicated. God created you to know Him, to walk with Him, to live under His good and perfect rule. But every one of us has sinned. We have turned from Him, chosen our own way, and lived as if we belong to ourselves. And because God is holy and just, our sin is not ignored. It deserves judgment. That is why our hearts are restless and unsettled. Left to ourselves, we are not secure and we know it. When we look at our sin, we know we are separated from God.

But God did not leave us there. In His mercy, He sent His Son. Jesus Christ came into the world and lived the life we could not live, perfectly righteous in every way. Then He went to the cross in the place of sinners, bearing the judgment for sin. He died, not for His own guilt, but for ours. And three days later, He rose from the dead, proving that sin was paid for and death was defeated. Now He offers eternal life, not to those who earn it, but to those who receive Him. To come to Christ is to turn from sin and trust in Him alone. Not in your effort, not in your record, but in His finished work. And when you come, He does not cast you out. He gives you life. He holds you. He keeps you.

For some, this is a call to believe for the first time. Stop delaying. Stop asking for more when you already have enough. Come to Him. He gives eternal life. He will not cast you out. For others, this is a call to rest. Beloved, you belong to Him. You hear His voice. You follow Him, and He holds you. No one will snatch you from His hand. Not your past sin or present sin. Not the amount of your sin or the degree of it. The God who saved you is the God who keeps you. For the Christian, there is nothing that can separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus. Cling to that promise.

Remember what we heard at the beginning. “All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.” Pascal saw something deeply true. We are restless. We fill our lives with noise and distraction because we are not secure. Beneath the surface, there is a question we cannot shake. Am I safe? Will I be okay in the end?

And Jesus answers that question here. “I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand.” That is the security we are longing for. It is not fragile or temporary. It is given by Christ. Guarded by Christ. We are held forever in God’s hand. The world offers distraction. Christ offers security. 

And that is why Augustine could say, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.” The rest you are looking for is not found in distraction. It is found in Christ.  So come to Him. Stop running. Stop filling the silence. Rest in Christ. Come to the Shepherd who knows you, who calls you, who has laid down His life for His sheep, and who  has promised that He will never lose one of them. Beloved, you are secure in Him. So rest in Him.