“I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” — John 14:6
I used to think this verse from Jesus’ farewell speech was pretty straightforward. Jesus being “the way” means he is the one-way ticket to the Father. Evangelism is giving people this secret wisdom so they can be saved from a world that’s devil-filled.
I left this gnostic view decades ago. But maybe it’s helpful to take a deeper look at John 14:6.
Father Richard Rohr gave an intriguing understanding:
Jesus is a person and, at the same time, a process. Jesus is the Son of God, but at the same time he is ‘the Way.’ Jesus is the goal, but he’s also the means, and the means is always the way of the cross. (from Simplicity: The Freedom of Letting Go)
I think this means immersing yourself so much in what Jesus taught and how he lived that you have no choice but to be profoundly uncomfortable and countercultural. That means:
Protesting: the death penalty; gun mania; unequal access to healthcare and education; climate destruction…
Loving: the bigots; the racists; the homophobes…
Being patient with: the ignorant and fearful; the ones speaking for God while forgetting the gospel…
Standing with: the victims of violence; the targets of bigotry; the struggling poor; the closeted gay and trans…
Standing up to: those who use God to perpetuate their persecution and exclusion of God’s children…
This isn’t an exhaustive list, but it is exhausting. If I knew that this is what Jesus meant when I said I’d follow him when I was 15, I’m not sure I’d have signed up.
Yet, looking back over the half-century since, I realize that Jesus’ promise of being with us is fulfilled in the midst of unrelenting lent, not when it’s over and we smell the Easter lilies. Tending to wounds, wiping away tears, holding hands, and standing in solidarity lead to experiences that reveal a Holy Spirit still working in overdrive. Our eyes open to see good gaining a foothold. Our ears grow more sensitive to the direction of an inner voice. Bonds forged through sacrificial love deepen among the most unlikely partners.
Every crisis, including the painful one the United Methodist Church is embroiled in now, leads ultimately to a more profound realization of what Christ offers. Conflict helps us to grasp peace; evil, to celebrate good; hate, to experience love.
The reason for Christian joy isn’t the payoff in the end. It’s the Christ, and his friends, we discover before we get there.