Believing in Jesus

Sermon for Easter 5

John 14:1–14

Jesus said, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me.”

Now, that’s a tall order…
Because, I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention to the world lately, but it’s kind of a mess out there!

I mean… My gosh!

I doom-scroll through the news, and it starts to look like the things that win, in this world, are power and money. The people who get ahead are the ones who can dominate and accumulate, at all costs.

And, when I see that, part of me is tempted to wonder: What if they’re right? What if that really is how the world works? What if love is just a nice feeling, but not the truth about reality?

And that’s when Jesus says to us: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me.”

But what does that even mean?

Because “believing in Jesus” can mean different things to different people.

For some people, “believing in Jesus” means accepting the historical fact that, once upon a time, there was a guy named Jesus who lived in a land far away, and inspired a lot of people.

Most historians agree that much is probably true.
So whatever Jesus means by ‘belief,’ it has to be something more than that.

We church folks, on the other hand, often think that “believing in Jesus” means believing certain things about Jesus—agreeing with the traditional ideas that the Church talks about in the Nicene Creed: That Jesus is the Son of God, was born of a virgin, rose from the dead, and will come again in glory.

There’s nothing wrong with any of these. They are theological statements, which can be neither proved nor disproved by science. Traditional Christians call them “revealed truths,” which can only be accepted on the basis of faith.

But, here again, we encounter a problem:
There are plenty of Christians who say they believe all of that—and live in ways that look nothing like Jesus.
We have a word for that:
It’s hypocrisy.

So, here again, we see that “believing in Jesus” must mean something more than simply believing that Jesus existed and accepting certain theological beliefs about Jesus.

So, what then does it mean to “believe in Jesus?“

And if that question—what does it really mean to believe?—feels a little unclear, we’re actually in good company.

Because the disciples are just as confused as we are.

Jesus said, “You know the way to the place where I am going.”

And Thomas says, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”

But Jesus doesn’t give him a map. He gives Thomas himself.

He says, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also.”

That is a staggering claim.

Because Jesus is not just pointing to God—he’s revealing God.

If you want to know what God is like—look at Jesus.

If you want to know what really matters in this world—look at Jesus.

And what do we see, when we look at Jesus?

We see someone who chooses compassion over control. Someone who serves instead of dominating, who forgives instead of retaliating, who gives himself away rather than grasping for more.

We see a life defined by love.

And that brings us back to belief.

Belief, in the sense that Jesus means it, is more about alignment than agreement.

The Greek word for “believe” is pistis—it means trust or allegiance.

To believe in Jesus is not just to say, “I agree with these ideas about him.”

It’s to say, “I trust that the way he lived reveals what is actually real—and I’m going to live like that’s true.”

When we look at Jesus, we see what ultimately matters.

And that’s where this becomes both beautiful and difficult.

Because if love is ultimate, then a lot of what the world tells us starts to fall apart.

The world says: power is what matters.
Jesus says: love is what matters.

The world says: get all you can for yourself.
Jesus says: give yourself away.

The world says: win.
Jesus says: serve.

And the reason this is hard is because it doesn’t always look like Jesus is right.

It doesn’t always look like love wins.

So we live in this tension.

We feel the pull of one reality—the one we see on the news.

And we hear Jesus pointing to another—the one revealed in his life.

Believing in Jesus means choosing which of those realities we are going to trust.

It means saying, “Even though it might cost me, I trust that love is more valuable than money.”

That’s not just an idea. It’s a way of life.

Toward the end of the passage, Jesus says, “The one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these.”

What does that mean: “Greater works?”

I don’t think he means more spectacular miracles.

I think he means more and more people living in alignment with the reality that he preached and lived—choosing love over power, compassion over control.

The works are “greater” because they spread out wider.

And I’ve seen glimpses of that.

St. Maximilian Kolbe was a Catholic priest who lived in Poland during World War 2.

When the Germans invaded, he had an opportunity to escape, but chose instead to remain behind. He hid Jews and other refugees fleeing persecution inside the friary.

When the Nazis arrested him, they offered him an opportunity to sign his name on a list that would have given him the same rights as a German citizen, but he refused and was sent to the Auschwitz concentration camp.

Finally, when the Nazis decided to execute ten prisoners in retaliation for one prisoner who had escaped, St. Maximilian Kolbe volunteered to take the place of another prisoner who had a wife and children. He died at Auschwitz in 1941 and was canonized as a saint in 1982.

St. Maximilian Kolbe was a man who believed in Jesus.

We know this, not because he was a priest who recited the Nicene Creed, but because of the way he lived his life.

That’s what Jesus is inviting us to do when he says, “Believe in me.”

Don’t just believe things about Jesus, but trust in Jesus himself.

Trust that the way Jesus lived reveals what actually matters.
And live like that’s true.

What would it look like, this week, for us to “believe in Jesus” in that sense?

Maybe it looks like a moment when we choose compassion over control.

When we choose the way of Jesus over the way that seems easiest.

When we choose to listen. To forgive. To act with kindness.

Not because it guarantees a certain outcome—

But because we trust that what Jesus showed us is what matters most.

Jesus says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me.”

In other words:

Don’t let your hearts be shaped by a false vision of reality.

Trust what you see in Jesus.

And live like that’s the world you actually inhabit.

Because it is.

The Language of the Heart

Sermon on John 14:1-14.

Imagine with me, if you will, that you are a kid on a playground. You’re having a fine time running around on a lovely day. Then you decide that you’d like to feel the sun on your face and the wind in your hair, so you start to make your way over to the swings. Just then, the biggest kid in the neighborhood steps in front of you, blocking your path.

The big kid says, “Just where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m headed to the swings,” you reply.

“Is that so?” he says, “Well, here’s the thing: Those are my swings. If you want to play on them, you’ve got to get through me first. Let’s find out just how tough you are!” And he puts up his fists.

Now, most of us can understand exactly what’s going on in this situation: The big kid is being a bully. As parents, that’s the moment when we would probably step in and say, “Hey now, that’s not nice! These swings belong to everyone, so anyone can play on them. Why don’t you take a step back and let the smaller kids go play on the swings?”

As grownups, we wouldn’t just stand by and let that kind of bullying happen to our kids on a playground. So then, why do we just accept it when certain kinds of Christians do it to other people? In my job, I spend a lot of time on the highway. I regularly see religious billboards with messages trying to convert people to Christianity. A common Bible verse that appears on these billboards is John 14:6, which we just heard in our gospel reading this morning. In this verse, Jesus says, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

Now, I’m not going to speak against this verse itself; it’s part of our sacred scriptures and I love it. What I am going to speak against is the fact that some of our fellow Christians use this Bible verse as a threat. When Christians post these words of Jesus, out of context, on their billboards and church marquees, they are sending the implied message that no one can have a genuine spirituality unless it looks like theirs. That’s a problem. In a country where Christians already make up a majority of the population, that’s bullying.

More than that, it’s a misrepresentation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The word “Gospel” means “good news”, and those who post these billboards think they’re just “preaching the good news”, but frankly, I can see nothing “good” about it. The real Jesus didn’t threaten people with hellfire and damnation. The real Jesus fed the hungry and healed the sick. The real Jesus welcomed outcasts and forgave sinners. The real Jesus got himself in trouble for hanging out with the wrong kind of people. The real Jesus is more likely to be found at the Stonewall Inn than the National Cathedral.

[SIDE NOTE: If you don’t know what the Stonewall Inn is, then please watch the award-winning documentary The Stonewall That Didn’t Fall by Cadence Phillips, a parishioner at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in St. Joseph, Michigan. This documentary recently won first place in the state and has been nominated to represent Michigan in the National History Day film competition in Washington, DC. Cadence is currently trying to raise $1,000 for the trip to Washington.
Please consider donating here:
https://gl.me/u/6zDcfFX7MQmv
You can watch the film here:
https://bit.ly/stonewallstate
Thanks in advance for your support!]

Now that we’ve talked about what Jesus didn’t mean in that verse, let’s talk about what he did mean when he said, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

First of all, it’s important for you to know that biblical scholars generally agree that these words were never spoken by the historical person, Jesus of Nazareth. There was a literary convention in the ancient world that feels foreign to our own. It was a common cultural practice, in the ancient Mediterranean, for students of a great teacher to honor their mentor by writing in their mentor’s name. The idea was that they were continuing their teacher’s thought where the teacher left off, so any credit for brilliance would be given to the original mentor and not the student. Outside of the Bible, we can see this happening in the writing of the great philosopher Plato, who wrote most of his Dialogues in the name of his mentor Socrates. There is little debate among modern scholars that most of Plato’s ideas come, not from Socrates, but from Plato himself (even though he writes in the name of Socrates). It is the same with the author of John’s gospel and the historical Jesus of Nazareth.

When John puts these words into Jesus’ mouth, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me”, he is not committing forgery, but honoring the teacher who changed his life. The author, in this verse, is telling the readers of his gospel what Jesus meant to him.

This is a problem for us readers in the modern world, who value accuracy above all else, but it was not a problem for ancient readers, who understood that biography was more about “who this person was” than “what actually happened”. If we were to describe what the author of John’s gospel was trying to do, in modern terms, we might say that he was “speaking the language of the heart”.

Let me describe what I mean by “language of the heart” by way of analogy. Imagine a married couple, out to dinner on their wedding anniversary. One of them raises a glass to the other and says, “Sweetheart, you are the most wonderful person in the world and I am the luckiest person in the world. There’s no one else for me. I love you with all my heart. Happy anniversary!” Now, we would all agree that this person was speaking from the heart. So, imagine how inappropriate it would be if the waiter were to interrupt the speaker in that moment and say, “Now wait just a minute, Buster! You can’t possibly say that your partner is the most wonderful person in the world because you haven’t met all the people in the world! For all you know, there could be another person out there, more wonderful than your partner, so you shouldn’t say such inaccurate things on your anniversary!”

If you were sitting at a nearby table, you would be perfectly justified in standing up and saying to that waiter, “Hey now, that’s not nice! This person was talking to their partner on their anniversary. You had no right to interrupt them. In fact, you have no right to pass judgment on their relationship at all!”

When it comes to the language of the heart, most of us would agree with the philosopher Blaise Pascal, who said, “The heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing.”

This is also how it works, when it comes to Christian faith in our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. We owe no one an explanation when we say, “Jesus, you are the way, and the truth, and the life.” We are speaking the language of the heart, just like that couple out to dinner on their wedding anniversary. This is what the author of John’s gospel was trying to say when he put those words into Jesus’ mouth. Using the cultural conventions of his time, he was trying to express his love for the man who had changed his life for the better.

In our day, let us also be just as exuberant in our praise of Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior. Let us proclaim to the world the good things he has done for us, not only in our words, but in our deeds. If Jesus is our way, our truth, and our life, then let us strive to become the kind of people that Jesus was. When we see the hungry, let us feed them. When we see the sick or injured, let us heal them. When we meet the outcast and sinners, let us welcome and befriend them. May we, like Jesus, get ourselves in trouble for hanging out with queers and freaks. When the bullies of this world come hunting for us, may they find more of us in Stonewall than they find in cathedrals. That’s how they’ll know we are there because we are following Jesus, and they’ll know we are Christians by our love.

Image credit: Billboards Portrush by Willie Duffin, CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons