It’s a very different scene today in John’s gospel than it was last week, when we heard Jesus talking to the Pharisees and shepherds and sheep and gates.
Today we fast forward a few chapters in John and find ourselves in an intimate setting, on the last night that Jesus spends with his disciples, the last night before his crucifixion and death. In John there isn’t really a “last supper” scene like the other gospels. In John, Jesus washes the feet of the disciples and then spends the evening in deep conversation, preparing them for what lies ahead—his death and their life in his absence.
Today’s passage most memorably contains the statement about the Father’s house with many rooms or dwelling places and Jesus’ latest “I am” statement, I am the way, the truth and the life—whatever that means. But in this time and season that we find ourselves in—each of us dealing with the coronavirus pandemic—I was drawn first to the sentence that begins this passage, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” And I’m drawn to those words of good news because right now I’m feeling a lot like Thomas in verse 5, “Lord, how can we know the way?” I don’t know about you, but this statement sums up my experience right now. How can we know the way? How can we know the way through this pandemic? How can we know the way to meaningful connection through phones and computers? How can we know the way to care for loved ones and friends when physical presence isn’t possible? How can we know the way to re-entry when guidance is inconsistent at best and things are changing every day? How can we know the way when opening up places the vulnerable and marginalized in our communities—the elderly, people of color, immigrants—at disproportionate risk? How can we know the way?
I am the way, Jesus says. I am the truth. I am the life. And as vague and abstract as that sounds, maybe it is that simple. That we might not know the way forward today, we might not know tomorrow, but the resurrected Christ meets us on the way and reminds us of the truth of who we are—resurrection people—and whose we are, named and claimed as God’s beloved. We might wake up feeling lost, anxious, stumbling through the dark, but that abundant life that Jesus kept offering and talking about continues to find us.
Perhaps especially when we’re stumbling around, trying to find our way, we have a tough time figuring out where God is in all of this. “Just show us the Father, and we will be satisfied,” Philip says. Just show us God, show us where God is. Whoever has seen me, Jesus says, has seen the Father. So don’t let your hearts be troubled. Because as each of us struggles with figuring out which way to go from here, as each of us struggles to be fathers, mothers, grandmothers, grandfathers, sons, daughters, friends, employees; as each of us struggles with living our daily lives in totally new and different ways, as each of us walks that tightrope, discerning the right balance of providing what our loved ones need with very real public health threats and risks—we aren’t alone—we have each other—and through the resurrected Christ, God is with us, too, and we know and trust this, because in all the places the resurrected Christ shows up—on the road, around the table, in our homes and workplaces, in hospitals, in meat-packing plants, in flesh and blood, in water and word, God’s right there, too.
How can we know the way? The resurrected Christ is our way, our truth and our life. When we are lost, confused, burdened, burned out, and overwhelmed, Christ meets us and calms our troubled hearts. Christ shows us the way and reminds us of the truth that we are enough and that we are doing enough. When all we are able to see is death and despair, the resurrected Christ shows us new and abundant life.
As we try our best to find that way, a way forward for our families, our work and our church, the way into a future that will almost certainly look different than what we had come to know as normal, the words of the resurrected Jesus give us courage to step faithfully into the coming days, weeks and months. And the one in whose house there many rooms, the one who is in Christ and is indeed in each one of us, frees our minds from tombs of impossibility, opening them to re-imagine a way forward full of possibility and to perceive the new things that will continue to spring up all around us.
Alleluia, Christ is risen. Christ is risen, indeed, alleluia.