John 14:1-14

“I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.” (14:6-7)

The passage, unique to John’ Gospel, in which Jesus claims to be the ‘way’, ‘truth’ and the ’life’ is familiar to us all I’m sure. It’s the sort of text that fits nicely on to a poster or one of those hot press tee shirts that were sold at evangelical Christian events in the 1990s.

It is the sort of verse that you might expect to hear an under pressure celebrity quoting as he extols the vitues about his new found faith through which he now views his past misdemeanours. Ultimately it has been reduced to something so metaphysical and simplistic (if that’s not a contradiction in terms) that it has lost any sense of being subversive or anti imperial.

But this passage is not simplistic – and shouldn’t be treated as such. It’s a passage that reflects the anxiety of the early Christian community – it conveys the brutal realities of imperial violence as Jesus anticipates his execution and the disciples express their anxiety about what comes next. This is a passage suggestive of fear and desperation.

My sermon this week will almost certainly centre upon the opening sentence: “Don’t let your hearts be troubled.” This line, spoken to a group of people about to be made even more vulnerable and marginalised than ever is one that so many people need to reflect on that I can’t really justify moving beyond it, but the passage obviously has a great deal more to it than that.

It does set the scene though – it sets up the passage as immediately, and obviously, political. A threatened, damaged, community is being forced to reckon with their own position as their situation grows incrementally more serious.

Jesus’ consolation is to offer them the encouragement that: “in my Father’s house are many rooms…” I know how this is usually interpreted – that there are lots of ‘mansions’ in heaven, but this is not the description of some future paradise, it’s a counter imperial proclamation – God’s kingdom is one of hospitality, not exclusion.

The “house” and “rooms” here are firstly relational, rather than physical. The ‘father’s house’ is a relational space or household, not a metaphysical location.

In practical terms this has an obvious follow on – there are literally many rooms. Wherever the community extends there are rooms – this relational household extends far and wide.

Remember that Jesus’ mission is one of creating a community that loves and shares – a community of resistance in the heart of the occupation. This community offers a philosophical and practical rebuff to the scarcity logic of the empire, a logic we still live with today – there are no shortages when people are willing to share, to open their doors to one another.

God’s household is a better synonym for God’s kingdom. It is where God dwells, or reigns. That, as we know, is a relational idea – God lives in people’s lives.

Let me get to the big line in 14:5–7: “The way, the truth, and the life”

So this is kind of set up as a funny, a bit of misunderstanding, which is John’s favourite comic device. First Thomas asks: “We don’t know where you are going; how can we know the way?”

And Jesus patiently replies: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life…”

Perhaps not the most laugh out loud comedy moment in the book, but still, the straight man Thomas hears “way” as a literal route while Jesus answers in metaphor. So the whole thing hangs on a bit of irony – the disciples already ‘know’ the way, because they know Jesus. Duh.

The way (hodos) is a word that operates on a different level too – philosophical schools were “ways” and by the time the book is written the early Christian community is already known as ‘The Way’.

Jesus’ second claim here is that he is the “truth” (alētheia), along with the third claim to be the “life” (zōē) these are ideas that speak to a multiple of audiences – John’s Greek speaking readers recognise both of them immediately. Zoe is such an important term that it has become personified in the myth of Zeus, the father of the gods. Alethia is not personified in the same way, but remains a crucial philosophical category.

So the triple threat claim to be “the way, the truth, and the life” is a sweeping, subversive, assertion of authority in a world governed by imperial logic. In the first century it was Caesar who claimed to provide the way to peace, to define truth through imperial decree, and to secure life under the Pax Romana. John’s Jesus contradicts this directly, calling people to walk a different way, trust a different truth, and seek a different life.

That makes the following line: “No one comes to the Father except through me” something other than the statement of religious exclusivity to which it is often reduced, now it is a political and relational claim. It asserts that access to God’s life‑giving reality does not run through gatekeepers in charge of temple systems or imperial power structures but through the liberating way Jesus embodies.

This is not a proof‑text for Christian superiority but a declaration that in a world where empire claims total control, God’s life is found in a different order altogether.

There’s another ironic interlude when Philip asks: “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.”

It feels like an echo of Israel’s desire for visible guarantees (e.g. Moses asking to see God’s glory) and gets a somewhat exasperated response from Jesus: “Have I been with you all this time… and you still do not know me?”

The thing is that this also relates to the world they exist in – a world where power is demonstrated through audacious shows of military strength, now Philip, as the comic foil, wants a comparable display.

This is a handy opportunity for Jesus to remind all concerned that the true “show” of God is found in justice, healing, and the breaking down of boundaries. All the things, in other words, that Jesus has been doing.

God is not separable from these relational realities, God is found in them. (“I am in the Father and the Father is in me.”) Unity here is not just about some sort of divine dream – it’s about the concrete actions of love, mercy, and justice.

Want to see God? Look for love, mercy, and justice.

Jesus says that this divine presence can be found everywhere “the one who believes in me (is committed to my ways) will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these.”

In other words, everyone has agency – even while under empire. Marginal communities, like these under threat disciples, are supposed to be passive and grateful of their overlords. John’s Jesus calls his followers to be active and says that if they do, then they will be agents of “greater works.”

Finally, I’m going to end with a brief word about that last line: “If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.” This is something I hear a lot – people thinking that effectively the use of ‘Jesus’ name’ is the equivalent to a magic spell. Use the right words and you get the result you want.

I don’t believe in magic and I don’t think it has any place in Christian thinking – prayer “in my name” is nothing like a magic formula – it is simply about alignment with Jesus’ character. In other words, to ask in Jesus name is to do something in harmony with his way of life and truth. If you do this – then “I will do it” – I will remain active in the world through you.

So this is the central idea of the whole thing. John’s Jesus is saying: “When I’m dead, I will still be alive – through you and all who believe (follow God’s ways).”

So often this passage is read as a kind of ‘escape from this world’ passage – it’s not. That’s crucial to understand.

It’s a passage about how a vulnerable community can hope to continue the work after the execution of its leader. It has nothing to do with heaven or magic, it’s about the practical reality of continuing the mission of Jesus – in and despite our cultural reality. So let us follow the Way – be subversive and counter-cultural, and in the words of Micah – love mercy do justly and walk humbly with our God. Amen