Praise in the Presence of Rejection

Matthew 11:24–26

This morning I sat with the strange beauty of Jesus’ words—how He rebuked the cities that rejected Him, yet turned and said, “I praise You, Father.” That word answered caught me. Who was He answering? Not the crowd. Not the cities. He was answering the Father.

It’s striking. Even while confronting rejection, Jesus was in communion. He wasn’t just speaking to the cities—He was speaking with the Father. A third presence was in the room. The Son, the cities, and the Father. And I wonder… did the Father whisper something in that moment? “They’ve turned away. Does this grieve You?” And Jesus, without hesitation, answered with praise.

That moves me.

I think about my own conversations—especially the hard ones. When I speak to someone I love and say, “You hurt me yesterday. That wasn’t kind.” There’s often a third voice present. The Lord, standing quietly beside me. And sometimes He asks, “How do you feel about this? Do you want to hold onto it?” And I realize—I rarely answer with praise.

But Jesus did. He said, “I praise You, Father, Lord of heaven and earth.” He saw the Father’s sovereignty even in rejection. He didn’t just endure it—He embraced it as part of the divine story. “I take sides with You,” He said. “Even this is from You. And I feel good about it.”

That’s hard for me. I want to feel good about grace, not grief. About healing, not hurt. But Jesus shows me that praise isn’t reserved for the pleasant—it’s a posture of trust. A way of saying, “Even this, Lord. Even this.”

I’m learning to listen for the third voice. To answer not just the person in front of me, but the Presence beside me. And maybe, one day, I’ll be able to say with Jesus, “I praise You, Father,” even when the cities turn away.