The Rev. Dr. Brandon Perrine
Easter 5A
John 14:1-14
May 3, 2026
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In God’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going.” Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to God except through me. If you know me, you will know God also. From now on you do know God and have seen God.” Philip said to him, “Lord, show us God, and we will be satisfied.” Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen God. How can you say, ‘Show us God’? Do you not believe that I am in God and God is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own, but God who dwells in me does these works. Believe me that I am in God and God is in me, but if you do not, then believe because of the works themselves. Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to God. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that God may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.
~o~
A lot of folks find a lot of comfort in these words of Jesus from John’s gospel. In fact, they’re among the most commonly chosen verses at funerals for a reason. We reach for them when hearts are troubled. When death has come too close. When the future feels uncertain. When we need to believe that love is stronger than loss.
“Do not let your hearts be troubled.”
“In God’s house there are many dwelling places.”
“I go to prepare a place for you.”
These are tender words. Necessary words. Words that have carried many people through grief. But if we only hear this passage as comfort for someday, we may miss what Jesus was trying to say for today. Because on the night before his death, Jesus wasn’t only talking about heaven. He was trying to teach his friends how to live on earth.
Thomas, unsurprisingly, felt the need to press the issue though, “We don’t actually know where you’re going, so how can we follow you there?” he asked Jesus. In his characteristically cryptic way, Jesus told them: “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to God except through me.” What I think he meant, but didn’t say quite so bluntly is this: “Live like me, live my way, and you’re going to get to where I’m going faster than you might want to—that’s the truth!”
The Jesus of John’s gospel seemed to know that the end was coming and he was using this last protracted conversation with his friends to prepare them for it. By the time John was written, the author would have known that the disciples all chose to live Jesus’ truth and to ultimately follow Jesus’ way of self-sacrifice, even unto death. This text isn’t about Christian exclusivism— about Jesus being the only way to heaven—it’s about the truth that following Jesus’ way may get you a one-way ticket to the great hereafter a lot faster than you’d have imagined!
Then Philip spoke: “Show us God, and we will be satisfied.” Jesus was prepared with a response: “How can you have been with me all this time and still ask that, Philip? If you’ve seen me, you have seen God because I am in God and God is in me!” I suppose it was nice for Thomas that he got to share the hot seat with someone else, for once. After all, this was the last time Jesus would talk with his friends at length before his death. There was still so much for them to learn.
“I am in God and God is in me,” Jesus said. “If you’ve seen me, you’ve seen God.” Those are pretty big claims, aren’t they? Is it any surprise that Philip was struggling to get his head around them? We know that John’s author believed Jesus to be the eternal Word of God incarnate in flesh and bone and blood. We see the progression from Mark, the earliest gospel, where Jesus is adopted by God at his Baptism. To Matthew and Luke, the middle gospels, where Jesus is born special—a child of God from the time of his conception. To John, the latest gospel, where Jesus has always been special—since before the beginning of time, existing with God—a part of God.
And yet, I believe there’s more going on in this exchange between Jesus and Philip than another affirmation of Jesus’ divinity. I think Jesus is trying to bring the disciples along with him again, this time by inviting them to look past his flesh and bone and blood and see the commitment that lay at his core. In a mystical sense, Jesus was telling them that he was so committed to the way of heaven, that to see him is to see God—that the divine and the human had mystically become one in him. But this isn’t an exclusivist statement either. The same could be true of them.
Mystics throughout the millennia have shared this belief with Jesus—that divine union can happen to anyone. When heaven’s priorities take over—when God’s priorities take over—the individual ceases to be and the divine shines forth. The two become one. Seeing one is truly seeing the other.
The 8th century Hindu scholar Adi Shankara taught that the individual soul is identical to the universal reality. The 13th century Islamic mystic Rumi taught that the lover (the soul) and the beloved (God) become one. And the 16th century Christian mystic Teresa of Avila believed that the soul becomes one with God in the mystical union of spiritual marriage.
Each of these, in their own ways, reiterated what Jesus taught: “I am in God and God is in me. If you’ve seen me, you’ve seen God.” A reality that the disciples themselves could experience. When Jesus concluded that whoever believes can do even greater works than he did, I think he meant it. And he told his disciples exactly how.
This is where Jesus’ teaching gets tough. I don’t think he meant it just for the folks gathered in the upper room on the night in which he was betrayed. I think he meant it for all those who would come after them. Even us. Want to see God? Become one with the divine purpose and then look in the mirror. Want to become one with the divine purpose? Follow Jesus’ way of costly love and self-sacrifice. Simple, right? Not so much. There’s a reason Jesus preached that his way is narrow and encouraged his followers to “count the cost” of being his disciples. Because it isn’t easy. It wasn’t easy then and it isn’t easy now.
But Jesus never said we had to do it flawlessly. He only said to follow. Step by step. Choice by choice. Day by day.
Every time we choose compassion over cruelty, generosity over fear, courage over silence, forgiveness over revenge, the life of the Holy becomes visible again. Every time we make room for another person, another of those many dwelling places opens among us. Every time ordinary people love in extraordinary ways, there’s a chance we’ll glimpse the very face of God.
So don’t just look upward. Look outward. Look inward. Look wherever costly love is taking flesh. And perhaps, by grace, others may glimpse the divine in us as well.
May it be so. Amen.
