Jesus said to his disciples: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God and believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be. Where I am going you know the way.” Thomas said to him, “Master, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, then you will also know my Father. From now on you do know him and have seen him.” Philip said to him, “Master, show us the Father and that will be enough for us.” Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you for so long a time and you still do not know me, Philip? 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 speak to you I do not speak on my own. The Father who dwells in me is doing his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me, or else believe because of the works themselves.” (John 14.1-12)
As we have come to expect during this Easter Season, we have for our consideration today another passage from the Gospel of John, this one marking the start of the so-called “Farewell Discourse” of Jesus in the Fourth Gospel. The discourse extends from Chapter 14 through Chapter 17 and covers multiple topics.
Overall, as the name points to, the Farewell Discourse is Jesus’ last words to his disciples as they sit together in the Upper Room. While his words convey Jesus’ final teaching to his followers, including his great command of love, they also are meant to offer comfort and encouragement to those who have been with him “for so long a time,” as he says to Philip.
Obviously, the mood in the room is dark and depressed. Otherwise, Jesus would not have begun his farewell discourse with the words, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” He understands better than his disciples that his time is short, only a matter of hours at this point, before his life on earth will end. He knows the machinations that are underway and he has already sent Judas on his way, telling him, “What you are going to do, do quickly.”
The scene is not unlike that at the departure gate of an airport where we have to say goodbye to a loved one who is leaving our side for foreign soil or like that of our goodbye to a family member who is being deployed for service in a war zone, our hearts heavy and our fears great because the future is unknown and the dangers are incalculable.
This, then, is the mood in the Upper Room, with the departure of Jesus front and center in the minds of the eleven who struggle to understand the harsh reality that the presence of Jesus among them will soon be replaced by his absence from their side. They are confused and conflicted, unsure of why Jesus must leave and uncertain of where he is going.
As we heard, Jesus attempts to explain to them both the why and the where, telling them that he is going to his Father’s house so that he can prepare a place for them, offering them solace in the hope that “where he is they also may be.” Of course, they do not understand, as Thomas makes clear when he says, “We don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?”
The question, a sensible one considering the situation, is answered with Jesus telling them that he is the way. In other words, if they are to join him down the road, then they must walk the way that he has walked, offering their lives in service to others in the same manner that he has given of himself to others, even, yes even to the point of death on a cross.
Odd as it may seem and lost at first glance, Jesus is calling their attention to their shared togetherness, not to their imminent separation. This is the focal point of his words that “I am in the Father and the Father is in me,” words that he will extend in a bit to include them, telling the eleven, “I am in my Father and you are in me and I in you.”
So, while his departure is sure, his continued presence with them also is sure so long as they walk on the path that he has shown them, a path that will lead them also to the Father’s house. Often, the Father’s house is interpreted as heaven, but the better understanding moves us from a place to a state of communion with God, the same closeness and communion that Jesus says he shares with the Father. Put another way, Jesus proposes here a spiritual intimacy more so than a physical locale.
Of course, this promise of a spiritual closeness to the Father requires a belief and a trust in Jesus. As we hear him say to the disciples at the start, “Believe in God. Believe also in me.” Or, again, near the close of this particular passage, he says, “Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me.” While he offers the possibility of his disciples’ sharing in the same life that he has with the Father, he also needs them to understand that the first step to that end comes from believing in him.
That belief requires the disciples to come to see that Jesus is the living presence of the Father, or, as he states forthrightly, “If you know me, then you will also know my Father.” Again, the words tell of a oneness that Jesus shares with the Father both in mind and in heart. It is a oneness that he extends to his followers, requiring their trust and their belief that his way leads to the Father, unlike the ways of the world that lead away from communion with the Father.
At the heart of this discourse, then, is a call to closeness with Jesus that will put us on the way to closeness with the Father. While his departure in itself implies distance, he is saying the opposite. Staying on the path that he has shown us will bring us close to him, a closeness that promises an eventual communion with the Father.
Read in this way, the Farewell Discourse does not forecast a separation so much as it promises a unity. Those who stay true to the way, loving and serving others in this world, will find themselves close to Jesus who then brings them to unity with the Father, finding themselves in the Father’s house, or, better stated, within the realm of God.
Living as we do long after the passage of Jesus from this world to the next, having returned to his Father while we wait for him to return to us, what might we take from this Farewell Discourse? Again, I think the answer is found in asking ourselves about our closeness to the Father or, put another way, our distance from the Father.
This seems to me to be the central thrust of Jesus’ words that we hear today, urging his followers to remain close to him, in this way ensuring that they are close to the Father whose heart is open to all of us, or, as Jesus says, who has many abiding places. His words, “No one comes to the Father except through me” reminds us that we will abide with or live in closeness to the Father when we walk the path that Jesus walked.
Sadly, we know how the story subsequently unfolds, the disciples within hours abandoning Jesus, leaving him to suffer alone in his final hours. They took the first ramp off that they could find, scurrying in the dark of night to escape the persecution of the Jewish religious leaders, forgetting Jesus’ last words to them that they must also walk the way that he has walked. Yes, in time, they would return to the path, but it was not a quick return.
Their separation from Jesus as he faced persecution is a somber reminder of the stain of sin that stays within our souls, a proclivity on our parts to do the same, to take the easy way out or to travel roads that do not bring us close to Jesus, but take us further from him. As with the disciples, so with us. It takes time for us to retrace our steps, returning to the way that leads to Jesus who shows us the path to the Father.
In those times when we feel we have lost our way, separating ourselves by steady steps away from Jesus, uncertain of where the path ahead will lead us, perhaps we can be honest enough to voice our sense of lostness, joining the Trappist monk Thomas Merton who wrote just the right prayer for all of us in those times. This so-called Merton Prayer will not only allow us to express the ache in our heart, but also will bring us comfort, reminding us that although we may step away from Jesus, he never steps away from us.
So let us make Merton’s words our own, praying, as he did, “My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.”
“And I hope that I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. There will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.”
Hearing Merton’s prayer, we surely find reminders in his words of those times when we also could not find the way, wondering how we had gotten so far off the path of Jesus, unsure also of how to turn around, fearful that we have gone too far to retrace our steps. But, as I said, there is comfort in Merton’s words because he also reminds us that Jesus never abandons us, but stays with us, awaiting that prayer from our heart.
While the passage that we hear today has several layers, perhaps the heart of Jesus’ message is found when he says, “I am the way.” That is his core teaching in this Farewell Discourse as well as throughout the gospel text. His promise is that if we follow his way, then we will know him and will know the Father who sent him.
It is all that simple. We are the ones who make it difficult.
–Jeremy Myers
Sunday Brunch 