The True and Living Way: The Inclusivity of an Exclusive Claim

Readings for the Fifth Sunday of Easter

Perhaps because of the magnitude of the issue -- the clash of competing systems -- that I find myself more aware of the divisions that persist in our society today. They even exist among Christians. The divisions in the Body of Christ are not simply differences in doctrine and worship. Nor are the divisions within the greater human family merely a matter of differing perspectives. Rather we have allowed our systems -- whether they are religious, political, social or ideological -- to define our loyalties and to shape our relationships to exclude those with whom we may otherwise legitimately differ from full participation in society.

Today's Gospel (John 14:1-14) contains a phrase that, at first blush, seems to reinforce rather than to dispel this clash of competing systems. It also happens to be one of the most memorable sayings attributed to Jesus in the New Testament: "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." (14:6). Even before many of us were old enough to read we may have heard this verse hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of times in church or Sunday school.

It matters little whether we take these as the actual words of Jesus or the interpretive gloss of a pious author. Either way, their glaring exclusivity simply cannot be dismissed, explained away, or set aside. Yet, otherwise well-meaning people shouldn't read them out of context either, which, I believe, is the reason why they are so prone to misunderstanding and misuse.

"I am the way, the truth, and the life" is the sixth of seven "I am" sayings used by the author to frame his portrait of Jesus: "I am the bread of life" (6:35); "I am the light of the world" (8:12); "I am the gate" (10:9); "I am the Good Shepherd" (10:11); "I am the resurrection and the life" (11:25); and, "I am the true vine" (15:1).  It is the central claim of Jesus' farewell address to his closest friends on the night of his betrayal and arrest. It immediately follows Jesus' foretelling of Judas' betrayal and Peter's denial, and after he reveals to his disciples that he would soon be leaving them (John 13). 

Jesus' disciples had every reason to be troubled. He was leaving, and where he was going they could not come. News that some of them would fail him, and perhaps even fall away, meant that everything they had taken for granted up to that point was about to change in fundamental ways.

In Chapter 14, Jesus responds to their anxiety with words meant to comfort them, "Do not let your hearts be trouble. Believe in God, believe also in me" (14:1). He then tells them plainly that he is about to return to his Father, but that this is actually good news. It is good news because he goes to prepare a place for them in his "Father's house"- a place of "many dwellings." There they will be with him and dwell with him and with his Father (14:2-3).

This news elicits a sudden response from Thomas (portrayed later by John as the disciple of doubt or disbelief). Thomas asks, "Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?" Jesus then says to him, "I am the way, the truth, and the life" (5-6).  

In context, it doesn't really look like a clobber verse employed to bring home a message of conversion to the irreligious, or even a trump card used in argument against a competing religion. Instead it looks like a specific answer to a specific question. The disciples had followed Jesus for his entire ministry. Now Jesus was leaving them, to prepare a place for them, after which they were to follow. Thomas merely blurts out what was on everyone else's mind: how were they to find him? They needed directions, a road map.  

"I am the way..." Jesus answers. Any attempt to blunt or soften the exclusivity of these words makes no sense of the context and actually does damage to it. Jesus is not a way, among many ways, but rather the way for his disciples. Jesus is the road map, if you will; make no mistake about it. Following the example set by Jesus constitutes the way to his Father's house. The call to discipleship is the call to follow. Following is what disciples do. Now their Master encourages them to continue in his footsteps towards the goal, even after he has departed.   

"The way...the truth...and the life." Truth, in John's conception, is not to be found in clever arguments. Rather, truth is relational knowledge. It comes from recognizing Jesus' words and acts as the embodiment of God's sacrificial love. Life is the author's favorite metaphor for what the other gospels call the "kingdom of God." The life that Jesus speaks about here is transformative. Thus, like the kingdom, it is a present reality with future realization. It is of eternal value ("eternal life," John 3:16). It is lived for God, and in the end welcomed into the Father's house. We might then restate this "I am" saying as: "I am the true and living way." 

Yet no less exclusive is the phrase that follows: "No one comes to the Father except through me." It is understandable that our modern pre-occupation with political-correctness conditions us to be alarmed by these words as well. But dismissing them out of fear for the scandal they might cause would be a knee-jerk reaction. These words are consistent with what the author describes elsewhere, concerning Jesus' unique relationship to his Father: "No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father's heart, who has made him known" (John 1:18). They are also consistent with the conversation with Philip that follows in our Gospel:

Philip said to him, 'Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.' Jesus said to him, 'Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, "Show us the Father"? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works. (John 14:8-10)

The belief in the uniqueness of Jesus as showing the way to the Father lies at the heart of the Christian message. There is no escaping this. It is the meaning of Incarnation -- "The Word became flesh and lived among us" (John 1:14). But herein lies a paradox. The Christian belief in the uniqueness of Jesus must be understood in light of the all-inclusive message of the Christian gospel: "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life" (John 3:16).  The following verse (17) is an even more powerful statement of the gospel's inclusivity: "Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved."

C. S. Lewis' series, The Chronicles of Narnia, presents, I believe, one of the most powerful and persuasive illustrations of just how inclusive in scope an exclusive claim (like the one in our gospel) can be. Those familiar with Lewis' Chronicles will recall the figure of Aslan, the Lion. Aslan is the Son of the Great Emperor Beyond the Sea who created Lewis' fantasy world of Narnia. In the first book, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Aslan dies a humiliating death at the hands of the White Witch, who has subjected the land of Narnia to the Hundred Years Winter. However, Aslan's death is not accidental. He willingly allows the witch and her minions to kill him in order to redeem the life of one of the main characters in the story, a child from our world named Edmund. Yet, like Christ, Aslan overcomes death, thereby breaking the spell of the White Witch and ushering in a new age.

In the seventh and last book of the series, The Last Battle, we find Narnia in conflict both internally and externally. Narnia's hostile neighbor to the south, a mysterious land called "Calormen," is out to conquer Narnia in the name of their god, Tash -- a terrible winged demon representing the sum of all maleficent forces. As the story develops, the Calormenes ally themselves with a few treacherous Narnians. One such character is "Swift," an ape who successfully fools many Narnians into believing that Aslan has returned in form of Tash. The claim is made that "Aslan and Tash are one."

The story ends with the de-creation and dissolution of Lewis' fantasy world, and the dividing of all of its inhabitants, both past and present, into two groups: one which goes off to disappear into Aslan's shadow (darkness and separation) and the other which is invited into Aslan's country (Lewis' metaphor for heaven). The main characters, all children from our world, are startled to discover a Calormene warrior among those invited to enter Aslan's country. His name is Emeth, and they ask him to tell his story:

...I fell at Aslan's feet and thought, "Surely this is the hour of death, for the Lion (who is worthy of all honour) will know that I have served Tash all my days and not him." Nevertheless, it is better to see the Lion and die than to be Tisroc of the world and live and not to have seen him.

But the Glorious One bent down his golden head and touched my forehead with his tongue and said, "Son, thou art welcome."

But I said, "Alas, Lord, I am no son of thine but the servant of Tash."

He answered, "Child, all the service thou hast done to Tash, I account as service done to me."

Then by reasons of my great desire for wisdom and understanding, I overcame my fear and questioned the Glorious One and said, "Lord, it is then true, as the Ape said, that thou and Tash are one?"

The Lion growled so that the earth shook (but his wrath was not against me) and said, "It is false. Not because he and I are one, but because we are opposites, I take to me the services which thou hast done to him. For I and he are of such different kinds that no service which is vile can be done to me, and none which is not vile can be done to him. 

Therefore if any man swear by Tash and keep his oath for the oath's sake, it is by me that he has truly sworn, though he knew me not, and it is I who reward him. And if any man do a cruelty in my name, then, though he says the name Aslan, it is Tash whom he serves and by Tash his deed is accepted. Dost thou understand, Child?"

I said, "Lord, thou knowest how much I understand." But I said also (for the truth constrained me), "Yet I have been seeking Tash all my days."

"Beloved," said the Glorious One, "unless thy desire had been for me thou wouldst not have sought so long and so truly. For all find what they truly seek."

Then he breathed upon me and took away the trembling from my limbs and caused me to stand upon my feet. And after that, he said not much, but that we should meet again, and I must go further up and further in.

The underlying message that Lewis leaves with his readers is clear. All roads simply do not lead to heaven. In Lewis' fantasy world there could be but one way to Aslan's country, just as there is only one way to the Father presented in the Christian gospel - the "true and living way" embodied in his Son. 

Yet such a claim in no way excludes all that is good, all that is right, all that is just, and all that is holy, wherever these may be found in human experience, in human culture, and human interaction -- within our communities, in the varied approaches towards knowing our Creator, and especially in our relationships with others, in our stewardship of nature, and in our care for all living things. These too belong to the way of finding God -- not different ways, but rather signposts along the one true and living way that leads inevitably to the Father's house. And no one who has ever lived is automatically disqualified simply on the basis of the accidents of birth, culture, or creed.

Where ideologies fail us, where sectarianism divides, where creed, confession, and both religion and non-religion prove more smokescreen than revelation, there remains the true and living way -- a way exemplified in the words and deeds of Jesus Christ -- who shared our nature, experienced our trials, felt our sufferings, and bore our sins in death. This holds true even in places where his example is hidden from view, or at those times and places where, professing to be faithful, some have trampled his name underfoot for their own selfish ends. For, in the words of Aslan, "All find what they truly seek."