I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life

Can you remember a time you were utterly and hopelessly lost?  When I was in junior high, I was part of a Boy Scout troop that went on a week-long backpacking trip to the mountains of Colorado.  Our Scoutmaster, who was an avid outdoorsman, had a trail map of the area he was working from.  But about two days into our excursion, he realized we’d made a wrong turn somewhere and didn’t know where we were.  He couldn’t locate any of the landmarks that were on the map … and, because he didn’t know where we were and how we’d gotten there, he had no idea how to get us back to the base camp from which we’d started.  And of course, this was well before cell phones and so much of the technology we enjoy today.  As I recall, he eventually figured out that if we did this … then did this … then did this, we’d come to a ranger station … and it would have a phone … and we could call the people at the base camp to come and get us.  And if I remember correctly, we ended up about thirty miles away from where we’d started.

I’m sure everyone has a story of a time when they were hopelessly lost.  Maybe you were on vacation and took the wrong exit or missed a turn and, after a while, you realized you had no idea where you were or how to get to where you were trying to go.  But I’m sure, for some of us, that feeling of “lostness” is not so much geographical as experiential.  We feel lost in life.  Where is my life headed?  What’s my purpose?  All the time I spend at my job, doing schoolwork, running errands, taking care of the kids, pursuing my hobbies, and traveling—where’s it taking me?  And is it a destination that, when everything’s said and done, I’m going to enjoy?  I imagine those kinds of thoughts are behind many people’s involvement in church.  They lean into spirituality and religion hoping it can do something about those gnawing feelings of lostness.

It seems to me there are two ways we can be lost.  Sometimes we can be lost because we don’t know the destination, and other times we can be lost because we don’t know the directions—we don’t know how to get there.  Sometimes we can be lost because we don’t know where it is we’re trying to go and, as someone once said, “If you don’t know where it is you want to go, any road will take you there.”  But sometimes we can be lost because, even though we know where we’re trying to go, we don’t know how to get there.  We have the destination in mind, but the course … the path … the way forward is uncertain to us.  But in either case, we’re lost.  And it’s a disorienting feeling.

In John 14:6, Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life” … words that, to any of us that have ever felt lost, speak directly to the ache of our heart.  But if you read on, his words are also very alienating and disaffecting for he follows them by saying, “No one comes to the Father but by me”—words that in our day of tolerance and sensitivity to allowing everyone to exercise the right to believe what they want are perceived by many as being off-putting.  To say anything that smacks of exclusivity—to insinuate that some beliefs are more right than others and that not all worldviews and perspectives are equally valid and true—is to set ourselves up to be viewed as narrow-minded and intolerant in some circles.

 Jesus shared these words in the midst of an extended conversation.  It was the eve of his crucifixion—although those that are with him don’t know it … they just knew there was tension in the air—and he was gathered in the Upper Room with his disciples.  They just experienced the Passover together where he went around the room and washed everyone’s feet saying, “I’ve set before you an example that you should do as I have done for you (John 13:15).”  He also predicted his betrayal, Peter’s denial, and his pending departure, but then moved into a time where he tried to reassure and comfort his disciples given the tension in the air and the uncertainty they were feeling.  They sensed the political temperature rising and it felt like things were coming to a head.  No doubt, they were dealing with feelings of uncertainty and potential loss.  So Jesus tried to speak into their worry and reassure them.

Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.”

Thomas said to him, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?”

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.

Thomas essentially said, “The train pulled out and you left me standing on the platform.  I don’t know where it is you’re going or how to get there.”  To which Jesus said, “I am the way”—not “I’ll show you the way” or “I’ll point you in the right direction” or “I’m one among any number of valid and acceptable ways.”  He said, “I am the way!”  Travel with me and I’ll get you to that place.

Imagine for a moment you’re in an unfamiliar town and you can’t access the GPS on your phone because the battery drained down.  You’re trying to find your way to this place you’ve never been before, so you pull into a gas station and ask for directions.  One of three things can happen. 

First, the attendant can give you verbal directions. “Turn right out of the station and go to the second stoplight, turn left and go down until you pass the water tower and the first … second … third street on the left, turn there.  Go a while until you see a mangled mailbox on your right and then turn right on that gravel road and go for a while—it’ll wind around—but then the road forks.  Take the left fork and it’ll be about a half a mile.  You can’t miss it.”

Second—the guy can draw you a map.  You can pull a napkin out of your glove box and he can take a pen out of his shirt pocket and he can map out for you how to get there.

Third—he can say, “You know, I’ve got to run an errand out that direction.  Let me get in my truck and you can follow me. I’ll lead you there.” 

All of those are valid approaches, but with which do you feel most certain you’ll successfully reach your desired destination?  My guess it’s the last one … the one where the guy IS the way.  That’s what Jesus is saying. If you attach yourself to me and let me lead and follow closely, I will get you to this incredible place I’ve been telling you about.”

But his claim to be “the way” strikes our modern ears as being pretty narrow … awfully dogmatic.  His claim to be “the way” to the exclusion of other potential ways comes off to many as narrow-minded and prideful and lacking humility.  But here’s the thing about truth—the truthfulness of something is not a matter of pride or humility; it’s a matter of fact.  Truth, by its very nature, is dogmatic.  There are some things in life you have to be dogmatic about because they’re true.  And if something is true, then that which is not consistent with it is, by definition, not true. 

For instance, a first-grade teacher who is teaching her students the basic concepts of math has to be pretty dogmatic about the fact 1 + 1 = 2.  Students are not free to decide what 1 + 1 should equal for themselves.  Either it equals 2, or they’re wrong.  You either align with that which is true, or you live with the uncertain impact and results of buying into that which is not true.

In college, I took a course in logic and one of the foundational principles was what’s called the law of non-contradiction … a premise that says it’s impossible for two things that are at odds and diametrically opposed to each other to both be true at the same time.  1 + 1 cannot simultaneously equal 2 in this location and 5 in another location.  By definition, one is true and the other is not true, or they’re both untrue.  Truth simply doesn’t allow two inherently contradictory things both be regarded as acceptable and correct.

Lets apply this the major world religions.  Christianity says that Jesus was the Messiah and Promised One of God—Judaism says he wasn’t.  Only one of those claims can be right.  Islam says that Jesus didn’t die by crucifixion—Christianity says he did.  Only one of those claims can be right.  Christianity says that God has been incarnate only in the person of Jesus—Hinduism says God has been incarnate a number of times over the years.  Only one of those claims can be right.  Buddhism says the world’s mysteries will end when we do what is right; Christianity says it is impossible for us to do what is right and we need, through our faith and belief in Jesus, to allow the grace of God to do a transforming work within us.  Only one of us those claims can be right.  The very nature of truth demands that which is opposed to and at odds with that which is regarded as true be classified as untrue.

As to the claim that Christianity is by its nature exclusive, I would posit that what’s exclusive is not Christianity but truth.  Christianity is inclusive!  It is open to anyone that will accept Jesus was who He said He was and bow their knee in submission to Him.  It doesn’t play favorites or give some people an inside track.  It doesn’t allow you believe anything you want to believe, but Christianity doesn’t restrict anyone on the basis of ethnicity, social standing, life experience, or what language they speak.  There is no life so void of value or beyond the scope of what God can do to where Christian says, “Don’t bother—you’re too far gone!”  The Christian faith is perhaps the most inclusive thing on the planet.  It is open to “whosoever will.”

That’s why Jesus followed up his statement about being “the way” by saying “I am the truth”.  What I teach and stand for aligns with ultimate reality.  What I proclaim and offer is consistent with the way things work.  The values that I’ve taught and exhibited are congruent with how the universe functions.  I am the truth.”

            And then he says, “I am the life.”  To get at the point he’s making here, let me ask you this:  When you think of heaven, what is it you’re most enamored with?  What do you expect it to be like?  What’s going to be so great about it that it’s worth pursuing?  I think, for many of us, it’s the extravagance and abundance—the streets of gold and such.  As someone once said, “The good things about streets of gold is they won’t develop potholes and need repair, so one thing we won’t have in heaven will be orange traffic cones.”  That alone will make it a wonderful thing, won’t it?  Perhaps for others of us, the intrigue of heaven is there will be no sin, sickness, disease, or death—nothing that interrupts or compromises our satisfaction or enjoyment of life.  There will be no need for law enforcement officers, soldiers, or personal injury attorneys, because there will be no people breaking the law that need to be held accountable … no territorial or military conflicts to fight … and no lawsuits to contest and bring before a judge.  All it will be is peace, joy, and security—the likes and level of which we’ve never encountered before.

When Jesus says, “I am the life”, the point he’s making is that heaven isn’t primarily about those things.  At the end of the day, it’s about him!  The streets of gold … the freedom from sickness and disease and death—are all outgrowths and benefits of being in an environment where His rule and reign is unopposed and without rival.  In verse 3 he said, “will take you to be with me that you may also be where I am”.  At the end of the day, heaven is about Jesus.  It’s about being with Jesus—enjoying His company and savoring His presence.

Sometimes I think we think of heaven wrongly.  Sometimes I think we focus more on the blessings than on the blesser.  We focus more on the provision and not the provider.  Heaven isn’t primarily about all those things that enamor and captivate us.  It’s primarily about being with Jesus—in an environment where He is universally recognized and acclaimed as Lord.  When people who don’t give Jesus the time of day talk about the hope of heaven, I always think in the back of my head, “I don’t think you want to go there, because you’ll be absolutely miserable!  To be placed for eternity in an environment where a God that you’ve been too busy for and not bothered to acknowledge is in charge and at the center of everything—I can’t imagine that’s going to be an enjoyable experience for you!”

Remember—we can sometimes be lost because we don’t know the directions, and we can be lost because we don’t know the destination.  Sometimes we can be lost because we don’t know how to get from Point A to Point B, and sometimes we can be lost because we don’t know where we’re trying to go—where Point B is.  What Jesus is saying in these words is, “I’m both.  I’m both the directions and the destination.  I’m not only how to get to where you want to go, but I’m the destination you’re longing for.  That place you’re seeking is all about me.”  I think a lot of people, when they hear “no one comes to the Father but by me” think there’s this really awesome thing out there Jesus is trying to keep us from.  But what Jesus is saying is, “I am that really awesome thing!  I’m not trying to keep you out of heaven; I’m trying to correct your vision of what it really is.  At the end of the day, it’s about me.  “I am the way, the truth, and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through me.”  I’m not only the essence of what heaven is about, but I’m also the path to get there.

Everybody's Welcome (Pt. 1 of 3)

I Am the Light of the World