_THE WAY, THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE._
"Thomas saith unto Him, Lord, we know not whither Thou goest; how
know we the way? Jesus saith unto him, I am the Way, and the Truth,
and the Life: no one cometh unto the Father, but by Me. If ye had
known Me, ye would have known My Father also: from henceforth ye
know Him, and have seen Him."--JOHN xiv. 5-7.
It surprises us to find that words which have become familiar and most
intelligible to us should have been to the Apostles obscure and
puzzling. Apparently they were not yet persuaded that their Master was
shortly to die; and, accordingly, when He spoke of going to His Father's
house, it did not occur to them that He meant passing into the spiritual
world. His assuring words, "Where I am, there ye shall be also,"
therefore fell short. And when He sees their bewilderment written on
their faces, He tentatively, half interrogatively, adds, "And whither I
go ye know, and the way ye know."[15] Unless they knew where He was
going, there was less consolation even in the promise that He would come
for them after He had gone and prepared a place for them. And when He
thus challenges them candidly to say whether they understood where He
was going, and where He would one day take them also, Thomas, always the
mouthpiece for the despondency of the Twelve, at once replies, "Lord, we
know not whither Thou goest; and how can we know the way?"
This interruption by Thomas gives occasion to the great declaration, "I
am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life: no man cometh unto the Father,
but by Me." It is, then, to the Father that Christ is the Way. And He is
the Way by being the Truth and the Life. We must first, then, consider
in what sense He is the Truth and the Life.
I. I am the Truth. Were these words merely equivalent to "I speak the
truth," it would be much to know this of One who tells us things of so
measureless a consequence to ourselves. The faith of the disciples was
being strained by what He had just been saying to them. Here was a man
in most respects like themselves: a man who got hungry and sleepy, a man
who was to be arrested and executed by the rulers, assuring them that He
was going to prepare for them everlasting habitations, and that He would
return to take them to these habitations. He saw that they found it hard
to believe this. Who does not find it hard to believe all our Lord tells
us of our future? Think how much we trust simply to His word. If He is
not true, then the whole of Christendom has framed its life on a false
issue, and is met at death by blank disappointment. Christ has aroused
in our minds by His promises and statements a group of ideas and
expectations which nothing but His word could have persuaded us to
entertain. Nothing is more remarkable about our Lord than the calmness
and assurance with which He utters the most astounding statements. The
ablest and most enlightened men have their hesitations, their periods of
agonising doubt, their suspense of judgment, their laboured inquiries,
their mental conflicts. With Jesus there is nothing of this. From first
to last He sees with perfect clearness to the utmost bound of human
thought, knows with absolute certainty whatever is essential for us to
know. His is not the assurance of ignorance, nor is it the dogmatism of
traditional teaching, nor the evasive assurance of a superficial and
reckless mind. It is plainly the assurance of One who stands in the full
noon of truth and speaks what He knows.
But in His endeavours to gain the confidence of men there is discernible
no anger at their incredulity. Again and again He brings forward reasons
why His word should be believed. He appeals to their knowledge of His
candour: "If it were not so, I would have told you." It was the _truth_
He came into the world to bear witness to. Lies enough were current
already. He came to be the Light of the world, to dispel the darkness
and bring men into the very truth of things. But with all His
impressiveness of asseveration there is no anger, scarcely even wonder
that men did not believe, because He saw as plainly as we see that to
venture our eternal hope on His word is not easy. And yet He answered
promptly and with authority the questions which have employed the
lifetime of many and baffled them in the end. He answered them as if
they were the very alphabet of knowledge. These alarmed and perturbed
disciples ask Him: "Is there a life beyond? is there another side of
death?" "Yes," He says, "through death I go to the Father." "Is there,"
they ask, "for us also a life beyond? shall such creatures as we find
sufficient and suitable habitation and welcome when we pass from this
warm, well-known world?" "In My Father's house," He says, "are many
mansions." Confronted with the problems that most deeply exercise the
human spirit, He without faltering pronounces upon them. For every
question which our most anxious and trying experiences dictate He has
the ready and sufficient answer. "He is the Truth."
But more than this is contained in His words. He says not merely "I
speak the truth," but "I am the Truth." In His person and work we find
all truth that it is essential to know. He is the true Man, the
revelation of perfect manhood, in whom we see what human life truly is.
In His own history He shows us our own capacities and our own destiny.
An angel or an inanimate law might _tell_ us the truth about human life,
but Christ is the Truth. He is man like ourselves. If we are
extinguished at death, so is He. If for us there is no future life,
neither is there for Him. He is Himself human.
Further and especially, He is the truth about God: "If ye had known Me,
ye had known My Father also." Strenuous efforts are being made in our
day to convince us that all our search after God is vain, because by the
very nature of the case it is impossible to know God. We are assured
that all our imaginations of God are but a reflection of ourselves
magnified infinitely; and that what results from all our thinking is not
God, but only a magnified man. We form in our thoughts an ideal of human
excellence--perfect holiness and perfect love; and we add to this
highest moral character we can conceive a supernatural power and wisdom,
and this we call God. But this, we are assured, is but to mislead
ourselves; for what we thus set before our minds as Divine is not God,
but only a higher kind of man. But God is not a higher kind of man: He
is a different kind of being--a Being to whom it is absurd to ascribe
intelligence, or will, or personality, or anything human.
We have felt the force of what is thus urged; and feeling most deeply
that for us the greatest of all questions is, What is God? we have been
afraid lest, after all, we have been deluding ourselves with an image of
our own creating very different from the reality. We have felt that
there is a great truth lying at the heart of what is thus urged, a truth
which the Bible makes as much of as philosophy does--the truth that we
cannot find out God, cannot comprehend Him. We say certain things about
Him, as that He is a Spirit; but which of us knows what a pure spirit
is, which of us can conceive in our minds a distinct idea of what we so
freely speak of as a spirit? Indeed, it is because it is impossible for
us to have any sufficient idea of God as He is in Himself that He has
become man and manifested Himself in flesh.
This revelation of God in man implies that there is an affinity and
likeness between God and man--that man is made in God's image. Were it
not so, we should see in Christ, not God at all, but only man. If God is
manifest in Christ, it is because there is that in God which can find
suitable expression in a human life and person. In fact, this revelation
takes for granted that in a sense it is quite true that God is a
magnified Man--that He is a Being in whom there is much that resembles
what is in man. And it stands to reason that this must be so. It is
quite true that man can only conceive what is like himself; but that is
only half the truth. It is also true that God can only create what is
consistent with His own mind. In His creatures we see a reflection of
Himself. And as we ascend from the lowest of them to the highest, we see
what He considers the highest qualities. Finding in ourselves these
highest qualities--qualities which enable us to understand all lower
creatures and to use them--we gather that in God Himself there must be
something akin to our mind and to our inner man.
Christ, then, is "the Truth," because He is the Revealer of God. In Him
we learn what God is and how to approach Him. But knowledge is not
enough. It is conceivable that we should have learned much about God and
yet have despaired of ever becoming like Him. It might gradually have
become our conviction that we were for ever shut out from all good,
although that is incompatible with a true knowledge of God; for if God
is known at all, He must be known as Love, as self-communicating. But
the possibility of having knowledge which we cannot use is precluded by
the fact that He who is the Truth is also the Life. In Him who is the
Revealer we at the same time find power to avail ourselves of the
revelation. For:
II. "I am the Life." The declaration need not be restricted to the
immediate occasion, Christ imparts to men power to use the knowledge of
the Father He gives them. He gives men desire, will, and power to live
with God and in God. But is not all life implied in this? This is life
as men are destined to know it.
In every man there is a thirst for life. Everything that clogs, impedes,
or retards life we hate; sickness, imprisonment, death, whatever
diminishes, enfeebles, limits, or destroys life, we abhor. Happiness
means abundant life, great vitality finding vent for itself in healthy
ways. Great scope or opportunity of living to good purpose is useless to
the invalid who has little life in himself; and, on the other hand,
abundant vitality is only a pain to the man who is shut up and can spend
his energy only in pacing a cell eight feet by four. Our happiness
depends upon these two conditions--perfect energy and infinite scope.
But can we assure ourselves of either? Is not the one certainty of life,
as we know it, that it must end? Is it not certain that, no matter what
energy the most vigorous of us enjoy, we shall all one day "lie in cold
obstruction"? Naturally we fear that time, as if all life were then to
end for us. We shrink from that apparent termination, as if beyond it
there could be but a shadowy, spectral life in which nothing is
substantial, nothing lively, nothing delightsome, nothing strong. That
state which we shrink from our Lord chooses as a condition of perfect
life, abundant and untrammelled. And what He has chosen for Himself He
means to bestow upon us.
Why should we find it so hard to believe in that abundant life? There is
a sufficient source of physical life which upholds the universe and is
not burdened, which in continuance and exuberantly brings forth life in
inconceivably various forms. The world around us indicates a source of
life which seems always to grow and expand rather than to be exhausted.
So there is a source of spiritual life, a force sufficient to uphold all
men in righteousness and in eternal vitality of spirit, and which can
give birth to ever new and varied forms of heroic, holy, godly living--a
force which is ever pressing forward to find expression through all
moral beings, and capable of making all human action as perfect, as
beautiful, and infinitely more significant than the products of physical
life which we see around us. If the flowers profusely scattered by the
wayside are marvels of beauty, if the bodily frame of man and of the
other animals is continually surprising us with some new revelation of
exquisite arrangement of parts, if nature is so lavish and so perfect in
physical life, may we not believe that there is as rich a fountain of
moral and spiritual life? Nay, "the youths may faint and be weary, and
the young men utterly fall," physical life may fail and in the nature of
things must fail, "but they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their
strength, they shall run and not be weary."
It is Jesus Christ who brings us into connection with this source of
life eternal--He bears it in His own person. In Him we receive a new
spirit; in Him our motive to live for righteousness is continually
renewed; we are conscious that in Him we touch what is undying and never
fails to renew spiritual life in us. Whatever we need to give us true
and everlasting life we have in Christ. Whatever we need to enable us to
come to the Father, whatever we shall need between this present stage of
experience and our final stage, we have in Him.
The more, then, we use Christ, the more life we have. The more we are
with Him and the more we partake of His Spirit, the fuller does our own
life become. It is not by imitating successful men we become influential
for good, but by living with Christ. It is not by adopting the habits
and methods of saints we become strong and useful, but by accepting
Christ and His Spirit. Nothing can take the place of Christ. Nothing can
take His words and say to us, "I am the Life." If we wish life, if we
see that we are doing little good and desire energy to overtake the good
that needs to be done, it is to Him we must go. If we feel as if all our
efforts were vain, and as if we could not bear up any longer against our
circumstances or against our wicked nature we can receive fresh vigour
and hopefulness only from Christ. We need not be surprised at our
failures if we are not receiving from Christ the life that is in Him.
And nothing can give us the life that is in Him but our own personal
application to Him, our direct dealing with Himself. Ordinances and
sacraments help to bring Him clearly before us, but they are not living
and cannot give us life. It is only in so far as through and in them we
reach Christ and receive Him that we partake of that highest of all
forms of life--the life that is in Him, the living One, by whom all
things were made, and who in the very face of death can say, "Because I
live ye shall live also."
III. Being the Revealer of the Father, and giving men power to approach
God and live in Him, Jesus legitimately designates Himself "the Way."
Jesus never says "I am the Father"; He does not even say "I am God," for
that might have produced misunderstanding. He uniformly speaks as if
there were One on whom He Himself leant, and to whom He prayed, and with
whom, as with another person, He had fellowship. "I am the Way," He
says; and a way implies a goal beyond itself, some further object to
which it leads and brings us. He is not the Being revealed, but the
Revealer; not the terminal object of our worship, but the image of the
invisible God, the Priest, the Sacrifice.
Christ announces Himself to Thomas as the Way, in order to remove from
the mind of the disciple the uncertainty he felt about the future. He
knew there were heights of glory and blessedness to which the Messiah
would certainly attain, but which seemed dim and remote and even quite
unattainable to sinful men. Jesus defines at once the goal and the way.
All our vague yearnings after what will satisfy us He reduces to this
simple expression: "the Father." This, He implies, is the goal and
destiny of man; to come to the Father, who embraces in His loving care
all our wants, our incapacities, our sorrows; to reach and abide in a
love that is strong, wise, educative, imperishable; to reach this love
and be so transformed by it as to feel more at home with this perfectly
holy God than with any besides. And to bring us to this goal is the
function of Christ, the Way. It is His to bring together what is highest
and what is lowest. It is His to unite those who are separated by the
most real obstacles: to bring us, weak and unstable and full of evil
imaginings, into abiding union with the Supreme, glad to be conformed to
Him and to accomplish His purposes. In proclaiming Himself "the Way,"
Christ pronounces Himself able to effect the most real union between
parties and conditions as separate as heaven and earth, sin and
holiness, the poor creature I know myself to be and the infinite and
eternal God who is so high I cannot know Him.
Further, the way to which we commit ourselves when we seek to come to
the Father through Christ is a _Person_. "I am the Way." It is not a
cold, dead road we have to make the most of for ourselves, pursuing it
often in darkness, in weakness, in fear. It is a living way--a way that
renews our strength as we walk in it, that enlivens instead of
exhausting us, that gives direction and light as we go forward. Often we
seem to find our way barred; we do not know how to get farther forward;
we wonder if there is no book in which we can find direction; we long
for some wise guide who could show us how to proceed. At such times
Christ would have us hear Him saying, "I am the Way. If you abide in Me,
if you continue in My love, you are in the way and must be carried
forward to all good." Often we seem to lose ourselves and cannot tell
whether our faces and our steps are directed aright or not; we become
doubtful whether we have been making any progress or have not rather
been going back. Often we lose heart and begin to doubt whether it is
possible for us men ever to reach any purer, higher life; we are going,
we say, we know not whither; this life is full of blunders and failures.
Many of the best and most earnest and gifted men have owned their
ignorance of the purpose of life and of its end. No voice comes to us
out of the unseen world to give us assurance that there is life there.
How can lonely, ignorant, irresolute, weak, and helpless creatures such
as we are ever attain to anything we can call blessedness? To all such
gloom and doubting Christ, with the utmost confidence, says, "I am the
Way. Wherever you are, at whatever point of experience, at whatever
stage of sin, this way begins where you are, and you have but to take it
and it leads to God, to that unknown Highest you yearn for even while
you shrink from Him. From your person, as you are at this moment, there
leads a way to the Father."