(Not Your Typical Jewish Holiday Event)
by Ruth Rosen | December 18 2025
It was the Feast of Dedication (Hanukkah), and Jesus was walking around Solomon’s Colonnade in the Temple. A group of Jewish leaders gathered around him and asked, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly” (John 10:24).
On the surface, this was a great question to ask at Hanukkah. Our people were remembering how God saved us from evil Antiochus IV, a Greek king who had attempted to wipe us out through forced assimilation. He not only outlawed core Jewish practices, but he also desecrated the Temple with idols and—ugh—pig blood on the holy altar. And, having taken the title “Epiphanes” (God made manifest), Antiochus even claimed to be Zeus incarnate.
Hanukkah commemorates how God miraculously empowered a small band of Jewish heroes to defeat Antiochus and his vast army, and how, after cleansing the Temple, they rededicated it (hence the name of the holiday) to the worship of the one true God.
Fast forward back to the scene of Jesus at the Temple during Hanukkah. Recalling the great miracle of against-all-odds victory over Antiochus, our people longed for a fresh miracle to address the present need—freedom from Roman oppression. Would the promised Messiah come to deliver them? And if so, was it or wasn’t it going to be Jesus? That appeared to be what these religious leaders wanted to know when they questioned Jesus. But Jesus always looked past appearances and answered accordingly.
Take a look at what Jesus said, and you’ll see why it nearly got him stoned. And if you are willing to look carefully at your own response to his claim, you may discover a miracle that God has been waiting to do for you.
Jesus Affirms His Messiahship … and So Much More!
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. My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. 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.” (John 10:25–30)
At first glance, Jesus’ talk about miracles, sheep, and his Father might sound evasive, off topic—maybe even disjointed. But his hearers got the message loud and clear because they were part of a whole backstory that pulls it all together.
As we unpack Jesus’ response in three parts, we’ll unfold the backstory. And with each claim Jesus makes about his own identity, something will also surface about the identity of those who had asked him.
When Jesus mentions his “works” he means the many miracles he’d been performing. A key part of the backstory is how those miracles had been a source of contention among some of the religious leaders.
Just one chapter earlier, you can read what happened when Jesus healed a man who’d been born blind. Jesus performed the miracle on the Sabbath—which kicked up a controversy.
Some of the Pharisees said, “This man is not from God, for he does not keep the Sabbath.” But others said, “How can a man who is a sinner do such signs?” And there was a division among them. (John 9:16)
As is often the case, the naysayers were more aggressive than the supporters. When they questioned the (formerly) blind man’s parents, the parents were reluctant to say much. They had heard that anyone who claimed that Jesus was the Messiah would be banned from the synagogue.1
Jesus knew that the people asking him to declare whether he was or wasn’t the Messiah were among (or at least aligned with) those who had been dismissing his miracles and disenfranchising his followers. Some had even accused Jesus of having a demon.2
Jesus’ claim that he’d already answered their question brought their disingenuousness to the surface.
When Jesus tells this group, “You don’t believe because you are not among my sheep,” you can almost hear them say, “Darn right we’re not!” But you’ll see how the backstory and context add great significance to his seemingly obvious statement.
Jesus had used the imagery of sheep to describe how crowds of Jewish people were suffering without the guidance and protection of a shepherd:
And Jesus went throughout all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. (Matthew 9:35–36)
He had also claimed the role of the good shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep.3 But there is another backstory that predates Jesus’ use of this metaphor.
The Hebrew Scriptures refer to God as the shepherd over his flock, Israel. Perhaps most famously we see this in Psalm 23, but also in passages like Ezekiel 34. There, God speaks out against the false “shepherds of Israel” who had both neglected and taken advantage of his sheep. God is passionate in his anger over this. He vows to seek out and save his sheep, and to appoint a true shepherd over them.4 Jewish tradition recognizes this as a messianic prophecy that would one day be fulfilled by a descendant of King David.
Jesus was identifying himself with that very promise. Notice how he went so far as to say that his sheep had been given to him by God himself. Then he goes even farther by promising to give his sheep eternal life. 5
Jesus’ claim that he gives his sheep eternal life is also saying something about those who are not his sheep: they have no part in that life.
And now Jesus concludes his response with the outrageous (or is it courageous?) claim that almost got him stoned.
“I and the Father are one.”6
Remember, the backdrop for this conversation is Hanukkah. Fresh in our people’s minds was the fact that they had rightly rejected the insane claims of Antiochus that he was God made manifest. Now here is Jesus, standing in the Temple, claiming something very similar.
And it’s at that point that Jesus almost got stoned:
“Again the Judean leaders picked up stones to stone him” (John 10:31 TLV).7
Again? That’s right—this was not the first time that Jesus was almost stoned.
And if Jesus hadn’t been who he claimed to be, they would have been right to call him a blasphemer and even, at that point in history, to stone him. But here’s the thing: we never see them pause for even a moment to wonder if his claim could possibly be true. And yet, the Tanakh includes many prophecies that leave the door wide open to the idea that the Messiah would somehow have a divine nature.
For example:
For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6; 9:5 in the Hebrew text).
And:
“Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel [which means, “God with us”]” (Isaiah 7:14).
And:
“But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah—
least among the clans of Judah—
from you will come out to Me
One to be ruler in Israel,
One whose goings forth are from of old,
from days of eternity. (Micah 5:1 TLV, following the Hebrew text numbering)8
It’s no coincidence that these Jewish prophecies have made their way into Christmas carols that celebrate the birth of Jesus.
Jesus’ claim to be one with the Father was and still is a source of great joy for those who believed him—not only because of the promise of eternal life, but because we have received the grace and peace that can only come from God. Conversely, that same claim was and is bad news for those who don’t believe. Jesus is basically saying, if you don’t believe me, you don’t believe God. If you aren’t my sheep, you aren’t God’s sheep.
Jesus is pulling the position those leaders believed they had with God right out from under them. Having taken it upon themselves to exclude others for believing in Jesus, he says they are now excluded. Those who checked every possible religious box but failed to understand God’s heart are the outsiders. Meanwhile, Jesus welcomes repentant prostitutes, tax collectors, and all manner of people whom others had only seen as objects of contempt.
So why do you think they picked up stones to stone him—and
Hanukkah is a good time to remember that something or someone is always going to demand our worship. Worship isn’t just a religious thing; it’s a human thing. Intentionally or not, we dedicate ourselves to the pursuit of whomever or whatever we believe —or at least hope —will make us happy and secure.
Jesus’ claim to be one with the Father, to be Immanuel, God with us, holds up a mirror to our souls, whether we consider ourselves religious, or secular, or anything in between. Because wherever we see ourselves on the religious or not-religious spectrum, Jesus’ claim presents us with some really revealing questions:
What if God really did choose to take on humanity to be with us, to suffer with us and for us, to free us from all the things we worship instead of him? Would we care to know if it’s true even though it implies there is something radically broken in us that we can’t repair?
And if we don’t care to know if it’s true, what does that say about us?
Are we really so different from the religious leaders who didn’t skip a beat before picking up stones to throw at Jesus?
Sure, we would never pick up literal stones to kill Jesus. But there are other ways to be rid of him if we don’t like what his claims imply. Stony indifference would work. So would distracting ourselves from what Jesus said and did by focusing on how some people have misused his name for their own agenda.
You might find yourself shocked or dismayed to discover that you really don’t want an up-close-and-personal God to capture your heart. If so, it’s not a bad way to feel. In fact, many of us have found it is the first step God wants us to take so that he can do a great miracle in our lives.
The most important question I can ask myself during this season is:
1. See John 9 to read about the healing, the difference of opinion, and how that story ended.
7. We prefer the TLV translation because, unlike many others that simply say “the Jews,” it clarifies that the writer—who himself was Jewish, along with all of Jesus’ first followers—was not referring to all Jewish people.