A sermon on John 14:1-14 & 1 Peter 2:2-10 by Nathan Nettleton

The election of Pope Benedict XVI this week has caused no small amount of anxiety among many Christians. The writings and public statements of the former Cardinal Josef Ratzinger have been sifted through for evidence of his allegedly strident conservative views on a range of topics dear to the hearts of the commentators. While I am among those who doesn’t find obvious cause for optimism in his election, I will say this. If Pope Benedict turns out to be a lot more visionary and daring than any of us imagined, it will not be the first time we have been so surprised. One of the quirks of a system which puts such an emphasis on unquestioning loyalty to the appointed leader is that sometimes someone can be a faithful servant of Rome, unswervingly supporting and representing the views of the leader, until one day they are appointed leader and no longer have to subordinate their own views to someone else’s. Then we find out what they really think and what they really stand for. So while I am not wildly enthusiastic about the new pope, I continue to hope and pray that he may surprise us all.

The reason I bring this up, is that one of the things for which he has been criticised is potentially an issue when we approach tonight’s gospel reading. One of the things that is being alleged about Pope Benedict, is that he has arrogantly asserted the supremacy of Christianity over all other religions, and the supremacy of the Roman Catholic church over all other Christian communions. Now it ought to be noted that when you actually read what he has said, it is a lot more subtle and carefully nuanced than is ever likely to be noted in the secular media, but I for one still could not give any sort of unqualified Amen to what he says on these matters.

But when I approach tonight’s reading from the gospel according to St John, I find one of the sayings of Jesus that is most frequently trotted out when Christians want to make arrogant claims about having exclusive access to God and about everyone who doesn’t agree with them going to hell. Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” And while I don’t mind disagreeing with Pope Benedict, I live by a vow made in baptism to continue in the teaching of Jesus and the apostles.

The trouble with this verse for most of us, though, is that it is not Jesus’ version of it we are used to hearing. We are used to hearing it from the lips of bigots and zealots who are using it to address questions that had nothing to do with what Jesus was talking about. And as we know, a change of context can make the same words mean completely different things. If I tell you that the saints had a glorious triumph over the demons, you will need to decide whether I am talking about last week’s football results or the practice of exorcism before you draw any conclusions about what I mean. This is no different. If Jesus was addressing a question like “can Hindus and Muslims be saved?”, then the line “I am the way. No one comes to the Father except through me,” would have a particular meaning. But change the context and what happens. What if Jesus is speaking to a small and frightened group of his followers who are saying things like, “They are expelling us from the temple and the synagogues. They are turning our families against us. They are locking some of us up, and we are afraid some of us could even get killed. They reckon that the only way we are going to be safe is to stick to the old ways, stop rocking the boat, and do as they say. They say that no one comes to God without doing things their way. We want to know God, and we want to live. Which way are we supposed to go now? What is the right way for us?” If that is what Jesus is responding to, then “I am the way, the truth, and the life,” sounds quite different.

Similarly with the second half of his statement. If the question is “what sort of theology does a person have to believe in to be saved?”, then “No one comes to the Father except through me”, has one particular meaning, and unfortunately, we often hear it used as though that was the question. If on the other hand, the question was something like, “they are telling us to live this way, and you are calling us to live this way, but who has the authority to decide our fate before God?”, then “No one comes to the Father except through me”, means something else. And while the grammar is less clear in English, both the context and the grammar make it clearer in the original that this line does not say “no one comes to the Father without believing in me,” but “no one comes to the Father unless I make it happen.” It does make a quite astonishing claim about the centrality of Jesus Christ to the quest to find life in God the Father, but it says absolutely nothing about what happens to those who follow some other religious system. It says no one comes to God the Father unless Jesus gets them there, but it says nothing about who he will or won’t get there. Such a question was not even on the radar screen.

What Jesus says here is addressed to people who have already chosen to follow Jesus, but who are under pressure to give up. The road is proving difficult. This is no easy way. They are under lots of pressure – social, political, religious and legal pressure – to conform to the expectations of those around them stop pushing against the flow. They are not sure if they have got what it takes to follow Jesus on a road that can include complete rejection, hatred, hostility and even death. Or sometimes, just apathy, derision, and being written off as a weird, out of date, or just serious to the point of eccentricity. They are afraid of what lies ahead, and well they might be. The martyrdom of Stephen in our other reading graphically illustrates how vicious the opposition could be. And so Jesus is speaking to them and to us when we are afraid to go on and feel like looking for an easier way.

His opening words in the reading we heard are usually translated “Do not let your hearts be troubled”. They are often read at funerals, which make it sound as though he was saying “don’t be sad when I’m gone.” But it is actually more like “don’t panic. Don’t drop your bundle. Hold your nerve when the heat is on, when it looks like they’ve got the upper hand.”

“Hold your nerve. When it looks like the way of power-mongering and money and celebrity is going to rule forever, hold your nerve. I am the way, and those who follow my way, though it not be easy, will not be disappointed.”

“Hold your nerve. When it looks like the propaganda of the dominant ideology is winning the day, when everyone settles for illusion and feel-good platitudes rather than striving to find out what is really being done in their names; when people find lies more comfortable than cold hard reality, hold your nerve. I am the truth, and those who insist on looking at the world through my eyes will find the truth setting them free.”

“Hold your nerve. When it looks like the powers of death are always going to win, when massive firepower and economic muscle sends thousands and thousands of men, women and children to their graves, and no one can find a way to bring the killing and impoverishing to an end, hold your nerve. I am the life, and my life will never be held captive by the grip of death. No matter how complete death’s victory may appear, I will rise up again and with me all the victims of death will be raised to new life. And I will come again and take you to myself. The power of death will be broken forever, and all of God’s people will be free.”

“I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No matter what they do to you, they cannot tear you out of the Father’s hands. They cannot separate you from the love of God. They cannot demolish my Father’s house which is built from the living stones of those who hang in there on the way. They cannot destroy the royal priesthood and holy nation into which you have been called. They cannot banish you from the life of the Father, because it is me, not them, who decides who comes to the Father. You come to the Father on my say-so, not theirs. So hold your nerve. Hang in there. Tough it out. This is the way to which you have been called. This is the way to persevere in. This is the way of life for you. Hold your nerve.”

In a few moments, we will be celebrating a brief rite of handing on the faith to our catechumens. We are handing on to them the faith we know, and the way in which we have found life. We are not trying to make any global claims about whether or not there might be any truth or life in any other faith. We are not making any claim to know whether or not Christ will bring anyone else to the Father. We are saying that we have been learning to follow the way of Christ, and in this way we have found truth and life and a saving relationship with God the Father through Christ in the Holy Spirit. We are saying that this is the only way we know, they only way we follow, and the only way we can pass on to anyone else. And we are not saying that it is essential that all the world think what we think about Christ in order to be saved. We are trying to show these people what the way of Christ looks like when it is lived, so that they can learn to live it, for it is in the living of this way that we have found ourselves raised by Christ to life in God. The relative merits of other religions are not really any of our business. We simply give witness to the one way in which we have found life and truth, and urge these catechumens to follow this way and hold their nerve and hang in there. For to these too, Christ has said, “I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, in the love and life of God, there you may be also.”