Skip to main content

The Way, the Truth and The Life

I am the way, the truth and life John 14.1-14 (https://www.biblegateway.com NRSVA)
‘I am the way, the truth and life’ is one of the most memorable things that Jesus ever said. It echoes similar sayings in the other Gospels, where Jesus repeatedly talks about ‘the way’. It’s always ‘the way of the cross’, which we’re expected to take ourselves if we wish to do the same works that Jesus did. It’s also essentially the same idea as ‘Jesus the gate’, which was central to last Sunday’s Gospel reading.
‘The truth’ is that Jesus has been sent by God, and ‘the way of the cross’ reveals what God is like. ‘The life’ is in part the reward for following the way. But it’s also what we get when we encounter Jesus, a relationship with God which even death can’t bring to an end.
‘I will do whatever you ask in my name’ isn’t a magical promise to get us out of a tight fix whenever we need it. It’s just a natural consequence of believing in Jesus and what he presents. 
Jesus also says, ‘The one who believes in me will also do the works that I do.’ In other words, his disciples become Jesus’ representatives, doing what he would have done and acting in his name. Whatever they ask for in that spirit of faithful obedience will be granted, in order to bring glory to God. And because there will be so many followers of Jesus, their collective achievements will exceed his own, but only because they are following his trail-blazing example.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I don't believe in an interventionist God

Matthew 28.1-10, 1 Corinthians 15.1-11 I like Nick Cave’s song because of its audacious first line: ‘I don’t believe in an interventionist God’. What an unlikely way to begin a love song! He once explained that he wrote the song while sitting at the back of an Anglican church where he had gone with his wife Susie, who presumably does believe in an interventionist God - at least that’s what the song says. Actually Cave has always been very interested in religion. Sometimes he calls himself a Christian, sometimes he doesn’t, depending on how the mood takes him. He once said, ‘I believe in God in spite of religion, not because of it.’ But his lyrics often include religious themes and he has also said that any true love song is a song for God. So maybe it’s no coincidence that he began this song in such an unlikely way, although he says the inspiration came to him during the sermon. The vicar was droning on about something when the first line of the song just popped into his

Giotto’s Nativity and Adoration of the Shepherds

John 1.10-18 In the week before Christmas the BBC broadcast a modern version of The Nativity which attempted to retell the story with as much psychological realism as possible. So, for instance, viewers saw how Mary, and Joseph especially, struggled with their feelings. But telling the story of Jesus with psychological realism is not a new idea. It has a long tradition going back seven hundred years to the time of the Italian artist Giotto di Bondone. This nativity scene was painted in a church in Padua in about 1305. Much imitated it is one of the first attempts at psychological realism in Christian art. And what a wonderful first attempt it is - a work of genius, in fact! Whereas previously Mary and the Baby Jesus had been depicted facing outwards, or looking at their visitors, with beatific expressions fixed on their faces, Giotto dares to show them staring intently into one another’s eyes, bonding like any mother and newborn baby. Joseph, in contrast, is not looking on with quiet a

Meeting Jesus on Zoom

‘Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.’ (John 20.19-31 ( https://www.biblegateway.com NRSVA) This is my second reflection about today’s Gospel reading but I wanted to write something about meeting Jesus on Zoom. Zoom’s been very useful during the lockdown, but it’s also got a bad press. Various mischief makers have gatecrashed meetings on Zoom, either to eavesdrop or make inappropriate comments. That’s why worshippers needed permission to join our on-line service this week. If they managed to press all the right buttons, and entered all the right codes, they should've found themselves looking at a screen not unlike the cartoon picture below of the eleven apostles trying to meet on Zoom with the risen Jesus. Anyone who couldn't see the service on the screen would've been in good company. In the cartoon Jesus has done something wrong. Either he hasn’t enabled Zoom to t