Our Gospel reading today may be one of the best known passages of the New Testament, not least because it’s read at many a funeral service. Significant words, but what are their context? We’re in that upper room where Jesus made secret arrangements to share a last supper, a Passover meal, with his disciples. And Jesus has washed their feet, something you’d expect the lowest servant to do. That must have been an uncomfortable moment: it should surely have been one of them who did it, not their teacher; but Jesus has set an example of service for them to follow.
He goes on to tell them that one of their own number will betray him; and at the end of the meal Judas leaves the room. It was night, John tells us bluntly; not just the darkness of evening, but the darkness of sin and chaos. Love one another, Jesus tells the remaining eleven. “I will follow you anywhere,” says Peter, “I will lay down my life for you.” But Jesus tells him, “Before the cock crows, you will have denied me three times.”
And so this chapter begins, with the disciples feeling uneasy, embarrassed, disorientated. So Jesus starts by saying: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me.” These are words of comfort, and the disciples will need words like that. If they are disorientated now, how will they feel tomorrow, Good Friday? They can’t know as yet just how badly they’re going to fail their Lord. But Jesus, of course, does.
So there’s a message to take from this passage about our own failure; the ways in which we let Jesus down. Like the disciples, we let Jesus down. But he promises us as he promised them that despite our failure there is a place for us in his Father’s love. Jesus doesn’t measure us by our performance: in Ephesians chapter two Paul writes, “It is by grace that you are saved, through faith - and this is not your own doing, but the gift of God.” Jesus says here: “You know the way to the place where I am going.” Not “You will know the way” but “You do know the way.”
You already know the way, Jesus tells the disciples. They’ve been with him a while now, they’ve heard his teaching, they’ve seen him at work. They should have learned something. But Thomas says, “Lord, we don’t know where you’re going. How can we know the way?” I think Thomas was the sort of guy who asks the question everyone else is thinking, but no-one else dares ask. And in the lecture or class room you heave a sigh of relief and think, “Thank goodness someone asked!” Good job we’ve got Thomas with us! that’s probably what the others were thinking. And Jesus tells him (and us), “I am the way, the truth and the life. No-one comes to the Father except through me.”
Words of comfort, but words also of truth and challenge. The way isn’t something we search for, it’s nothing to do with maps and satnavs, nor is there anything mystic about it. It’s not a matter of arcane knowledge, it’s about relationship. To know Jesus is to know the Father. In this person, in this human life, we can see the glory of divine love. And we have a place in that love. Jesus says he is the way; not a way, but the way, not a truth, but the truth. “No-one comes to the Father, except by me,” he says.
I sometimes feel uncomfortable about exclusive language: the way, as if there is no other way to goodness and God. While I am a Christian by conviction and choice, and not simply by chance, that doesn’t mean that I reject all other religious paths, all other ways of searching for God, as simply “wrong”. But for me the challenge of “I am the way, the truth, and the life” is a personal challenge, a challenge to me. I’ve no right to sit in judgement on anyone else, as to what relationship they have, or don’t have, with God. The challenge to me - and to you - is that we take to heart the example Jesus has set us, and the mark of his cross as the only place where our salvation is secured, where the burden of our failure, our sin, is lifted from us. So all that we do and say, the way we live, the decisions we make, should be a living witness to what God has done; to what he’s done in Jesus and in the story of the cross, and to what he has done and is doing in our own lives.
For me the challenge and call of these words is simple and direct: live in a way that shares the story of God’s love; live in a way that proclaims the good news that through faith in Jesus we can have a personal and loving relationship with the God we can call our Father. It is that simple; it is that straightforward; and it’s also that demanding.
But now Philip speaks up: “Show us the Father, and we shall be satisfied.” And Jesus replies, “You’ve been with me all this time, surely you get it by now. If you know me you know my Father. You’ve heard what I say, you’ve seen what I do. At the very least, believe in me on the basis of what your own eyes have seen, your own ears have heard."
I wonder how much of this the disciples took on board? Not very much, I should think, at the time. But later they will have realised that what Jesus was doing, what he was really saying to them was this: what’s about to happen is what needs to happen, what is supposed to happen. It may feel as though everything has gone wrong; it may feel as though all God’s plans have been wrecked. But no, that’s not how it is: in the events of these days God’s holy one is doing what he was sent to do. And in so doing he is blazing the way for his people, meeting the opposing forces head on. “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” One of many great “I am” statements in which Jesus explicitly claims for himself the power and authority of his Father.
Finally, as we continue through the reading, we find Jesus saying, “You will do even greater things, because I am going to the Father,” and, “If you ask for anything in my name I will do it.” What huge promises these are! Anyone with faith that’s grounded in Jesus, and witnessed to in a relationship of prayer and praise will do even greater things than he did. Anything we ask for in his name we will receive. How can all of this be true? Here’s one way of interpreting and understanding these words that works for me.
We are in the service of the Kingdom. Jesus spoke a lot about the Kingdom. In fact, all he said and did proclaimed the Kingdom. The kingdom happens wherever God’s work is done, wherever his Lordship is proclaimed, wherever we truly commit ourselves to Jesus as our way, our truth and our life. In his earthly body Jesus was limited by space and time; his ministry was confined to Galilee and Judaea, pretty much. But his death and resurrection has freed him into all the world; and the work of his Church, which is the body of Christ in the world, will be to proclaim the Kingdom everywhere, to do and say Kingdom things across the whole world, in every land, in every language.
In this way Jesus is able to stretch around the world, changing hearts, helping people discover grace and freedom, healing ills, healing relationships, forgiving sin, restoring peace, feeding those who go hungry; as we share the story of what Christ has done in us, and show what he can do in others. And we are not alone in what we do, we are not unaided. What we pray for in his name we will receive.
Where we seek his mind, where we share his vision, where we are committed to his work of love, we shall receive what we need to be good witnesses, to be Kingdom people, to be his Easter people. And as we minister in his name our ministry is founded in this confident faith: that in the wonderful love he has for the world each one of us is known and treasured. There is a place prepared for us, for each and every one of the children of God. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment