“I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” That is a bold statement. I must confess, my first reaction to reading this passage in the Gospel was very much like my father’s reaction to me during my frequent adolescent fits of rage. He would just sit there, wait for me to finish, and then proceed to calmly say, “Now, tell me how you really feel, Steve.” So, when I read this passage, my reaction to Jesus was very similar, “Tell me what you really think, Jesus.”
Even if you rightly sensed a facetious tone to this question, I think I really would ask that question to Jesus if I was hanging out with Thomas and Philip. I sympathize with these two guys. Although Jesus declares here that he is the pathway to divine truth, he does not sufficiently clarify what that means. To be honest, I’m still struggling with it. I still don’t know what he meant.
This is not an easy thing for me to admit. Here at Kenyon College, we take pride in our rigorous pursuit of truth and knowledge. We take it seriously when Socrates says that the life of the mind is the best life. But, as I continue to read the Gospels, I’ve come to realize that Jesus makes a habit of ruffling peoples’ feathers—and the predicament we find ourselves in today seems to be no different.
Two weekends ago, along with my fellow members of Canterbury Kenyon, I attended the annual Province V Spring Gathering at Turkey Run State Park in Marshall, Indiana. If you’ve never been to Turkey Run, I wholeheartedly encourage you to go sometime. I have been to few places where the beauty and splendor on the surrounding landscape brought as much comfort and ease to my soul. I met many wonderful people at the conference, including Ellis Clifton, the rector at a church in Detroit, Michigan. I really admire Ellis. He leads a predominantly black church in what he told me was a pretty rough end of town. Needless to say, Ellis and his parishioners do not enjoy the relatively stable day-to-day experience that students like myself enjoy. It’s not uncommon for him to counsel victims of sexual violence and other kinds of violence that are just part of the daily existence of his church.
Knowing things like this made it all the more powerful when he gave the teaching Eucharist at the end of the conference. The theme of the weekend came from the eighth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. Here, we meet again our friend Philip, who at this point is walking down a wilderness road. He sees a chariot off in the distance, and the Spirit tells him to go there, and so he does. Philip finds an Ethiopian eunuch seated in the chariot, reading from the prophet Isaiah. Philip asks the eunuch, “Do you understand what you are reading?” to which the eunuch replies, “How can I, unless someone guides me?” Philip then proceeds to help the eunuch read the passage, and proclaims the good news of Jesus to him. Philip and the eunuch find themselves walking close to water. Philip baptizes the eunuch, and afterward is snatched up by the Spirit of the Lord.
After reading this story, Ellis told us to ask ourselves what he believed was the necessary follow-up: “How am I empowered to implement what I’ve learned unless I know who empowers me?” Ellis was very frank in answering that question. “All of you are children of God,” he said, “and are justified through the body and blood of Jesus Christ.” Given what Ellis has to deal with on a daily basis, it was powerful for me to hear him say that. He doesn’t pretend to know the full extent of what Jesus means when he declares that he is “the way, the truth, and the life,” but Ellis doesn’t need to know. What is important to Ellis, and what should be to the rest of us, is that he trusts Jesus when he says this.
Let us rejoice in this!
Let us rejoice in this man we call Christ—who invites us to trust him as much as he trusts us.
I don’t know where I am going with my life, but here’s what I do know. I know that I have a wonderful family. I know I have supportive friends. I know I have adults in my life, like our chaplain, Karl, who are willing to go the extra mile to see to it that I am doing well. I may not know Jesus, or the full extent of his presence in my life, but I trust—I have faith that he had something to do with those wonderful blessings. And I trust that he will lead me to where I am meant to be.
I have faith that he will lead you to where you are meant to be as well. All you have to do is allow yourselves to trust him.
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