The Way, The Truth, & The Life – Ben Hyrne

Jesus said to him, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through me."

John 14:6 (ESV)

This marks the sixth of seven 'I am' statements in John's account (cf. 6:35; 8:12; 10:9, 11; 11:25; 15:1).  And while all those sayings are vital to our understanding of Christ’s identity, it is hard to overemphasize the importance of this one.  Jesus' words here have so shaped Christianity that, although they may have been first referred to as "Christians" by outsiders (cf. Ac. 11:26), internally, they thought of themselves as followers of "the Way" (cf. Ac. 9:2; 19:9, 23; 22:4; 24:14, 22), a likely call back to this very passage. 

But, putting aside the historical significance of John 14:6, how are we to understand Jesus' words?  

Unlike Mr. Myiagi, Yoda, or the Mandalorian, Jesus did not spout off sayings that may have sounded important but were actually meaningless—i.e., “wax on, wax off,” “do or do not; there is no try,” “this is the way,” .etc.  The Lord wanted his words to be understood and applied.  And so, below I'd like to meditate on what Jesus meant when he said he was "the way, the truth, and the life." By studying what each term means, we'll avoid leaving this profound statement to the realm of cheesy movie quotes, abstract thought, and utter pointlessness, and we’ll move into the realm of real life.  

Jesus is the singular Way. 

When Jesus says he is “the way,” he is saying that he is the means, that the only access to God is through him.  He is the door where there was no door before (cf. Jn. 10:1, 7, 9).  Christianity is not tolerant nor inclusive in this regard (cf. Ac. 4:12).  Like a lone light on a dark horizon, Jesus stands in striking relief against the backdrop of our hopeless existence (cf. Jn. 1:5).  Though only a few may find it, he beckons all to come to him.  But, make no mistake, the called must come on his terms, by his direction, according to his way.  The path to Jesus does not meander; it is "straight" (cf. Mat. 7:13).  The way is not wide but "narrow" (Mat. 7:14).  There are no other roads that lead to God.  And, just in case that wasn't clear enough, Jesus even says, "No man comes to the Father except through me.”  There are not multiple ways to heaven.  There is only Jesus Christ, the Way incarnate (cf. 1 Tim. 2:5; Heb. 10:20). 

Jesus is the singular Truth. 

When Jesus says he is “the truth,” he is saying that he is reality, that the only real thing in all the universe is him.  John noted in 1:3, “All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made.” Flip a mountain on its side, and you will find “Made by Jesus” stamped with indelible ink by its roots (cf. Ps. 19:1-2). He is the one by whom the worlds were created and by whom we continue to exist (Heb. 1:3). Jesus is the first mover; he sets into motion movement; he puts the planets into orbit. The Lord is the first cause; he tips the first piece in a chain reaction; he lights the match that ignites stars. Gravitational forces persist because the Lord has not given them leave to stop.  Truth, be it from the spiritual or physical realm, cannot be found apart from the Son of God.  Christians insist that ‘all truth is God’s truth’ for good reason.  If we should happen upon some new discovery, we (perhaps) might take some credit for finding it, but we would never take credit for making it.  Old, new, and undiscovered truths all bear the marks of Jesus Christ, the Truth incarnate. 

Jesus is the singular Life. 

When Jesus says he is "the life," he is saying that he is purpose, that the only meaning that has any real meaning is to be found in him.  One cannot truly exist apart from him.  Whatever a person might be without Jesus, they are not their truest selves as they were meant to be (cf. Ps. 139:13-16).  Like a candle without a flame, life has no light if Jesus is absent from our lives.  The Lord alone animates and energizes our very essence.  Without him, we become lifeless husks, ghouls who experience a dull and listless existence.  But with him, we become children again, adolescents who experience a vibrant and driven life (cf. Jn. 3:3).  As John said in his prelude, "In him was life, and the life was the light of men.….[and] to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God…" (1:4, 12). "Life," "light," and "right" are found at the hand of the Son of God, and he gives them freely to all those who put their faith in him.  He gives us breath and keeps us breathing (cf. Gen. 2:7).  He gives us thought and keeps us thinking (cf. Psa. 139:13-14).  He gives us life and keeps us living (cf. Deut. 32:39). Listen to a baby's first cry, and you will also hear the Life-Giver singing.  Smell the first flowers of spring, and you will breathe in his sweet fragrance.  Savor a season's first fruit, and you will delight in Jesus Christ, the Life incarnate.

With all that said, do you follow "the Way" and His leading?  Does "the Truth" make His home in you?  Will "the Life" welcome you with a warm embrace when your life fades away?  I hope so.  How tragic it would be if the way you traveled led only to a ditch.  How awful it would be if the truth you believed led only to deception.  And, truly, truly, how horrible it would be if the life you lived led only to death's cruel embrace. 

"Without the Way, there is no going.  Without the Truth, there is no knowing.  Without the Life, there is no living.”

- Thomas à Kempis, The Imitation of Christ (2004), p. 124.

We Be All Dead Men - Ron

In our Lifegroup (that’s a fancy name for Sunday School that means the same thing), we are studying through Exodus and the deliverance of the Israelites from Egypt. A phrase caught my attention the other day that never did before. In Exodus 12:33, when the Egyptians are urging the Israelites to leave, they say, “We be all dead men.” That may not strike you like a lightning bolt, but it did me. I've felt that before. To my core.

Think about this, 600,000 Israelite men, and perhaps two million Israelites in all, were leaving Egypt. They had been slaves there for centuries. But the Egyptian people had been so ravaged by the judgments of God, that they were eager to see the slaves go. In fact, they enriched the Israelites as they went! Why?

In the mind of the Egyptians, the judgment of God was death. The tenth plague had touched every house in Egypt. The firstborn of each household had died, from the least to the greatest. The future was clear: We be all dead men. Or, in the words of Young’s Literal Translation, “We are all dead.” Essentially, they are saying, “No one can stand before this kind of power. If we do not appease this God, we are as good as dead.”

This is the beginning of a healthy fear of the Lord. Not the end of it, but at least a start. This is what the seafaring men experienced during the storm brought to them on behalf of Jonah. When they found out who Jonah was, where he came from, and which god (really: God) he served, the Bible says they were “exceedingly afraid, and said unto him, Why hast thou done this?” Their second question is logical, “What shall we do unto thee, that the sea may be calm unto us?” (Jonah 1:10-11)

What are they saying? The same thing that the Egyptians said, “We be all dead men. If there is no escape from the wrath of this God, we are dead.” It is likely that the fear of God these men experienced turned into a full and reverential fear of the Lord, which is the beginning of knowledge (Proverbs 1:7).

In Isaiah, we see a similar, but different use of the same sort of phrase. Isaiah 59:10 says, “We grope for the wall like the blind, and we grope as if we had no eyes: we stumble at noonday as in the night; we are in desolate places as dead men.” The ESV translates that last phrase as: “among those in full vigor we are like dead men,” and the American Standard Version says, “among them that are lusty we are as dead men.” The New American Standard version agrees mores closely with the ESV and ASV in saying, “Among those who are vigorous we are like dead men.”

What is the point of this discourse? Why are we here, and where are we going?

We don’t like to talk much about sin and failure. Check that. We don’t like to talk much about our own sin and failure. We are loud and proud to point out the sin and wickedness of the world. And rightly so, I think. Many of the things our society applauds ought to make us sick. But if you read my last post, you know that I reached a point where, like the people of God in Isaiah, I thought, “I’m a dead man. Whether it is light or dark, I’m falling over. I’m standing in a field of plenty but getting nothing. I’m dead.”

Some of us live there. I lived there for far too long. We go to church and get nothing. We read our Bible and we are as the dead. Life and blessings surround us, but none of it gets through. We grow worse. More withdrawn. Angrier. Confusion reigns. Bitterness grows. Why? Not always, but many times it is the same thing that caused the Egyptians to rush their enslaved workforce out of the country. This is the same thing that caused the sailors to toss Jonah overboard to his death and the same thing that caused the Israelites to “roar all like bears and mourn sore like doves” (Isaiah 59:11).

It is the judgment of God. We long to escape it, but like the Egyptians, our fear is infantile and not reverential. Therefore, we actually push God and things that remind us of Him further and further away, while the inner man screams out to us that these are the very things we need the most. We languish in this turmoil and are as dead men.

But to paraphrase the first two verses of Isaiah 59, “It isn’t as if God’s hand is suddenly too short to reach you in your distress and pain, and it isn’t as if His ear has stopped working so that He cannot hear your cries. Rather, your iniquity has separated you from Him, and your sins have hid Him from you. He will not hear.”

Verse nine of the same chapter (paraphrased again) says, “This is why judgment seems so far from you and all things seem unjust. This is why you are waiting for light that doesn’t come and are longing for brightness but experiencing only dark.”

I have had sin in my life before that I feel like I honestly confessed about 1,876 times. I legitimately thought that every time would be the last time. Before God, I can honestly say that I would bow my head in the quiet shame of my heart and admit to Him my hatred of my sin and failure. I could seek His face and forgiveness and in some small measure feel forgiven.

But I never felt out of the woods. Life was full of panic; always worried that somehow my sin would be exposed. I was always ready with my excuses. “Oh, that was a long time ago,” I would say. Or, “I’ve been experiencing victory over that for some time now!” But neither of those statements ever felt deeply true.

I remember reaching out to a relative once and asking him for advice and for guidance. It was the only time that I honestly poured my heart out to someone else about my struggle.

His response was cold and short. There was no offer of continued support. He offered the Sunday School answers that I could have given myself; answers that had never helped. These were the answers handed out by the church in bulk, like some sort of ‘Get Well’ grab bag at a surprise party for the sick. Basically, a way of feeling like you have helped someone without actually getting down into the mud with them and…you know…helping them.

The reason that he could offer me neither help nor hope was because his struggle with sin was still raging. It consumed his private life. Eventually, it consumed his public life as well. He could not give me answers that he did not have; yet he could not be honest with me, either.

Look, I get it. It is a huge and scary thing to try and be transparent when you have a reputation and testimony and a family and maybe even a ministry. For pity’s sake, if King David felt fear and trepidation in the face of his sin, going so far as murder to cover it up, why are we surprised when Christians choose to struggle alone for years and years rather than seek help?

But this leaves us as dead men. Our churches become full of dead men. Our homes become run by dead men. So we have to have the conversation. For the sake of our brothers and sisters, we need to have the conversation. For the sake of our marriages and families, we need to have the conversation. For the sake of our churches, we need to have the conversation. And for the sake of the Lord Jesus Christ and His fame, we have to have the conversation!

The broken cannot be fixed by the crippled. We who are shackled cannot untether those who are bound. We who are slaves cannot lead captives to freedom. And furthermore, I do not think that God ever intended for us to live secret lives isolated from the help of our brothers because we fear isolation from their fellowship.

Maybe the church at-large hasn’t been great about living out Galatians 6:1-2. Or maybe, just maybe, we are so internally judgmental of others that we assume everyone else will be the same toward us. Just an honest thought. Here are those verses, in King Jimmy’s English: “Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual, restore such an one in the spirit of meekness; considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted. Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.”

John Gill says this about verse two, and I find it extremely helpful: “saints bear one another's [burdens], not by making satisfaction for them, which they are not able to do, nor by conniving at them, and suffering them upon them, which they should not do, but by gently reproving them, by comforting them when overpressed with guilt, by sympathizing with them in their sorrow, by praying to God for to manifest his pardoning grace to them, and by forgiving them themselves, so far as they are faults committed against them.”

What if this was the kind of response we found in our churches? What kind of freedom could you experience if you knew this would be the response from your brothers and sisters in Christ? It is eventually what I found. I found a group of Christian men that did everything John Gill wrote about. Gentle reproving when needed. Comfort when guilt threatened to capsize rather than a piling on of more. Sympathy from them as fellows running the same race and subject to the same failures. Genuine concern and prayers for grace.

1 John 1:9 says, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” Without this, we become as dead men. What a sad testimony for those whom the Lord has quickened. To become as dead beneath the weight of our guilt and shame. We who are under no condemnation live beneath it out of our own pride and at our own peril.

Confess your sins to God and your faults one to another. Bear each other’s burdens. I bet you’ll find there are many others like you and me. Withering on the vine. Plugged in to life, but as dead men. It must not be this way. The world is searching for life abundantly and we Christians are connected to the source. We dare not be as dead men.

PSA: Identity Theft Allowed? - Stephen

When someone chooses to identify themself primarily by a secondary descriptive of their life (sexual orientation, political persuasion, gender identity, etc.), society will begin to no longer see them as an individual person but by the tribe to which they have attached themself. 

For many this might not sound like a problem but a desirable goal. I disagree.

 

Tell me if this is not where we are today—Pride month is filled with seemingly every article of clothing imaginable advertising the type of people that they love, political parties are now the lens through which one must see all things, and one’s gender identity is something all must know and accept at every turn. 

 

The problem is that these descriptives were never meant to be the things that we are known for most and, yet, that is exactly what we have made them to be. Therefore, tribalism reigns; individuality and value apart from the tribe has been lost. 

 

When this happens, acceptance among one’s tribe becomes the most important thing to maintain no matter the cost. To lose such would be catastrophic and, unfortunately, a loss from which many people cannot recover. Why? Because it has become their sole identity and, tied to it, their purpose for living. 

 

So, what happens on the rare occasion that one’s sexual orientation changes? What happens to the rainbow t-shirts and the friend group that accepted them simply because of their shared affections? In the same manner, what happens when one’s chosen political party diverges from what it once stood for or one’s gender identity seems to no longer fit who they are? 

 

At these points, one finally realizes that their identity as an individual person has been stolen by these things. And the worst part is, they allowed it. 

 

So, if not these things, what is it that should be our primary identity? Some noble guesses might be one’s last name, family heritage, or the country in which they were born. But to be sure, we should ask the One who created us. And why would we do that? Because the one who created something would know best as to why that something was created. 

 

Take, for example, the paper clip. Let’s say my wife and I are arguing one day over the purpose and identity of it. With all sincerity, I look at my wife and tell her that this clip’s purpose is to unbend, attach to a rubber band, and shoot at people that annoy me. In her own moment of seriousness (and slight trepidation), she argues that the purpose of such a clip is to hold her ponytail in place when a hair tie is nowhere to be found. We go back-and-forth arguing but to no avail because it is my word against hers. 

 

So, what do we do? The only thing our therapist says we can do at this point—ask someone with more authority on the clip than either of us have. And who has such authority? Its creator!

 

The first patent for a bent wire paper clip was awarded in the United States to Samuel B. Fay.[1] So, we knock on his casket and call Mr. Fay to settle the debate. He looks at both of us and declares us both wrong. He tells us the purpose of the paper clip is neither as weapon nor hair holder, but to our amazement, a clip for paper! Dumbfounded, my wife and I go silent, for who are we to argue with the creator as to the identity and purpose of his creation?

 

In the same way, if God is our Creator, where does He say our identity lies? If He says sexual orientation, I have some t-shirts to buy. If He says political party, I better stay home and watch every presidential debate that ever airs. If He says gender identity, I better carry my birth certificate around everywhere I go so no one dares get it wrong. 

 

So, let’s ask Him and see what He says. “God, where does our identity as your creation truly lie?” And in response He simply points to a verse that states, “So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him (Genesis 1:27).” Gender identity follows right after this, but it is not primary. Neither is anything else but this: we were created as individuals bearing the image of Almighty God.

 

That’s where our Creator says our identity primarily resides. Debates over.  Tribes dismissed. T-shirts returned. Birth certificates back in the drawer. 

 

We are God’s image-bearers. The other things may still be important, but if we get the primary wrong, the secondary identities are in danger of following. The examples of our current world prove this. 

 

As Christians, let’s be sure we get this right so that others at least have a chance to do the same. And our Creator makes another thing clear as well: our purpose is actually tied to this identity. 

 

For by Him all things were created that are in heaven and that are on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or principalities or powers. All things were created through Him and for Him.

[Colossians 1:16]

 

We were not only created by our Creator God, but for Him as well. The good news is that if we get one right, we will get the other right also. 

 

Therefore, identity theft by these other things should no longer be allowed. Why? Because our Creator has other plans.  

---

[1] http://www.officemuseum.com/paper_clips.htm

Storms – Ben Hyrne

However much the weatherman wants you to believe he can see into the future with all his data and instruments, storms cannot be predicted with precision.  They can spring up without warning.  They can vary from moderate to severe to dangerous.  And they can humble even the most stalwart heart.  Storms are one of the many phenomena in the world that we actively try to avoid.  And, I don’t know about you, but I’ve often prayed, “God, please, I never want to experience a storm that threatens my life.” 

But storms aren’t always of the weather variety, are they?  We can experience hardships in our personal lives that would rival any flood.  Or, like a tornado leveling an entire neighborhood, our world can feel like it’s been obliterated by some trial.  What are we supposed to do in those moments?  How do we pick up the pieces when the storm has done its damage?  Is there any hope for those who feel like a boat in the center of a hurricane?  

To answer those questions, we must understand who Jesus is. 

Luke takes a significant portion of his gospel account to specifically explore the question, “Who is Jesus?” (cf. 4:34; 5:21; 7:19, 49) And he shows us that even the people closest to Jesus—i.e., the apostles—had to grapple with Jesus' identity.  And one of the best passages that illustrates this comes in chapter 8. 

One day, he got into a boat with his disciples, and he said to them, "Let us go across to the other side of the lake." So they set out, and as they sailed, he fell asleep.  And a windstorm came down on the lake, and they were filling with water and were in danger.  And they went and woke him, saying, "Master, Master, we are perishing!" And he awoke and rebuked the wind and the raging waves, and they ceased, and there was a calm.  He said to them, "Where is your faith?" And they were afraid, and they marveled, saying to one another, "Who then is this, that he commands even winds and water, and they obey him?"

Luke 8:22-25 (ESV)

There are three ways that Luke shows us that Jesus’ identity is divine:

First, Jesus confirmed the destination.

Do not overlook that before there was a storm, Jesus told the disciples where they’d end up.  He said, “Let us go across to the other side of the lake.”  Now, if a mere mortal (such as ourselves) said something that, we wouldn't be declaring a fact. We'd be explaining our intentions.  But, with Jesus, this statement meant something more.  If he said something would happen, it would happen.  His word is as good as reality.  So, even though the disciples will shortly run into a storm, the Lord already knew where they’d end up. 

Jesus may not reveal all that's ahead of us; however, never forget that no matter what you face, should you be a believer, your destination is already set.  By God's grace, you will make it to wherever Jesus is sending you. 

Secondly, Jesus commanded the storm.

It's funny.  While Luke said the disciples were "in danger,” when they woke Jesus, the apostles said, "We are perishing!"  Admittedly, some of the disciples were seasoned fishermen, so I do not want to discount their read on the storm.  But it seems like a fair bit of exaggeration is happening here.  Regardless, had they truly understood who was in the boat with them, they would’ve known they’d make it through the storm, even if it had been a category five hurricane.  Yet, despite the disciples' exasperation, Jesus calmed the seas and hushed the skies.  Though the Lord knew they would've survived the storm, he stopped it anyway. 

What a sight that must’ve been!  Being rocked by the seas and then, suddenly, everything going still.  Like a child who had just been chastened, the wind, which had been throwing a massive temper tantrum, abruptly went quiet.  More than the chaos that proceeded it, the silence that followed had to have been deafening.  And who was at the center?  Jesus.  There he stood, the seas as smooth as glass and the skies as clear as crystal. 

Do you know what monsters fear?  Do you know what makes titans tremble?  Do you know what keeps the devils up at night?  Jesus.  With nothing but a word, the Lord could banish a demon horde to the pit (cf. Lu. 8:31).  Jesus Christ is what all bogeymen dread.  Thus, even the storm of the century ought not shake our resolve.  Thunderclouds beckon their allegiance to the Son of God.  Lightning bolts bow their knees before the King of the universe.  The wind stands at attention when the Captain of angel armies ambles by. 

Lastly, Jesus—i.e., the Setter of Destinations and Calmer of Storms—used this moment to challenge the disciples.  

The Lord asked them, “Where is your faith?” It seems the storm had apparently blown their faith away.  Jesus, looking at these followers, could not find even a little bit of it left.  They were supposed to weather this test, but these men had failed.  

Storms have a way of making us question our faith.  They have a way of making us forget Jesus’ words.  But the same God who tells us, "Let us go across to the other side…” is the same God in the boat with us.  He has not left us.  It is we who have forgotten his word.  It is our faith that has waned.  Though God has guaranteed our destination, we are the ones who think we're not going to make it.  

Oh, how often has our faith been broken and bent during challenging times?  How many of us have cried, "GOD HELP ME!  I'M NOT GONNA MAKE IT!" Why is it so?  It is like we have spiritual amnesia, and we've forgotten all of God's promises.  When we are hit by a storm, it is not that we must be rescued from that storm. No.  Instead, we must believe all the more.  Storms may be scary, but if we trust in the One in the boat with us, we will not sink. 

In response to Jesus’ question, the disciples said, “Who then is this, that he commands even winds and water, and they obey him?” If only they knew the answer to that question like we do.  Jesus is God, and knowing Jesus’ identity makes every hardship navigable. 

Take heart, dear Christian. You do not ride the open seas alone.  Captain Jesus has already confirmed your destination, has command of all creation, and is ever-challenging us to believe in His name. 

The Lord rides the waves with us, and as such, we have nothing to fear.