
Today the Church celebrates Saint John, Apostle and Evangelist—the one tradition remembers as “the disciple whom Jesus loved.” John’s life is marked by a closeness to Christ that feels almost startling in its intimacy. He was there on the mountaintop at the Transfiguration, beholding glory. He was there in the garden at Gethsemane, keeping watch in the shadows of fear. And at the Last Supper, he rested his head upon Jesus’ breast, listening to the heartbeat of God.
John’s Gospel flows from that nearness. It carries the tone of someone who has lingered long in Love’s presence—majestic discourses on the communion of the Father and the Son, luminous insights into the Word made flesh, and the quiet insistence that “God is love.” His three epistles echo the same simplicity and depth: to know God is to abide in love, and to abide in love is to live as one who is beloved.
But John’s feast is not only a remembrance of his unique friendship with Jesus. It is an invitation. Because the secret John reveals is not that he alone was loved—it is that he dared to receive that love fully enough to name it.
John reclined on Christ not because he was the favorite, but because he trusted that he was welcomed. He allowed himself to be held, taught, forgiven, and sent. And in doing so, he shows us what discipleship looks like when it is rooted not in fear or performance, but in belovedness.
On this feast, we are invited to take our place beside him—to lean in, to listen, to rest against the heart of Christ. To let ourselves be loved with the same tenderness John knew. To believe that the Gospel he wrote is not only a testimony but a doorway.
John died in Ephesus around the year 100, but his witness continues to whisper to every generation: You, too, are the one Jesus loves. Live from that place. Write from that place. Serve from that place.
May this feast awaken in us the courage to be beloved—and the joy of letting that love shape everything.
