John 14:1-14

[Jesus said,] “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go there to prepare a place for you. And if I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and I will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you will be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going.”

Thomas said to him, “Lord, we don’t 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 the Father, except through me. If you know me, you know the Father. And from now on, you do know him and you have seen him.”

Philip said, “Lord, show us the Father and we will be satisfied.” Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and still you do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father?’ Do you not believe that the Father is in me and that I am in the Father? These words that I say I do not speak on my own, but the Father who dwells in me does his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and that the Father is in me, but if you do not, 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, indeed, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask for, in my name, so that the Father might be glorified in the Son, If, in my name you ask for anything, I will do it.”

Have you ever felt misunderstood? Like you thought you knew how people perceived and received you, but found out their expectations were surprisingly not what you expected? Or worse, that their expectations aren’t anything like what you’d want them to think or believe about you?

I saw Bruce Springsteen in Chicago on Wednesday. He hasn’t released a new album or anything. He’s just doing this three-month mini tour of sold-out arenas, mostly around the Midwest, from Minneapolis to Washington, D.C., instigated, I think, by the song he wrote called “Streets of Minneapolis” after the uprisings there, and the killings of Renee Good and Alex Pretti, by ICE agents, this past winter. The tour is inspired, too, by the weight of everything that feels so heavy in the world and in our country these days.

It’s called “The Land of Hope and Dreams Tour” and the shows are equal parts political protest, prayers for peace, calls for justice, religious rally, if one is so inclined, and cries for unity in our divided nation that Springsteen loves. There were NGO’s and volunteers in the concourse advocating for workers’ rights and immigrants’ rights. There were petitions to sign and non-profits taking donations. The merch wasn’t your typical Springsteen concert fare, either – but more social justice-oriented shirts and posters, banners and flags, and whatnot.

The setlist included a few standards like “Born to Run” – because you can’t have a Springsteen show without “Born to Run” – but the show was mostly a collection of the Boss’ best anthems (and some covers) in protest of misguided government, in support of the poor, blue-collar, and middle-class, and in solidarity for the sake of peace in the world. Even “Dancing in the Dark” hits different after all of that and in the context of “The Land of Hope and Dreams Tour.”

Anyway, it was perfection. It was exactly what I signed up for, why I was there, and everything that the 25,000 other fans in the sold-out United Center expected – accept perhaps, for some guy in the row behind me. We’ll call him Philip. About 2.5 hours into this nearly 3 hour extravaganza, I heard Philip say to his friend something about how he really likes Springsteen’s music, but that he could do without all of this political crap. And he sat down while the rest of us danced and sang and cheered – and lost our voices and our minds, with joy – all around him.

If Bruce Springsteen could have seen him, he might have said, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and still you do not know me?!”

I mean, how do you call yourself a fan … how do you spend that kind of money … how do you walk past all of those vendors … see all of that merch … listen, even passively, to “Born in the USA” once or twice over the course of the past 40 years, and still be surprised – and then disappointed – that Bruce Springsteen got political during his “Land of Hope and Dreams” tour?!

All of this is to say, I think Bruce Springsteen and Jesus have more in common than just their concern for immigrants, their desire for justice, and their cries for peace and unity in the world. Jesus knew, too – and knows, still – what it means to be misunderstood by too many of his followers.

See, my initial hesitation about today’s text is always that bit where Jesus says, “No one comes to the Father except through me.” That always gives me pause, because it can be used – and because it has been used – by too many Christians who like to find reason to exclude people from the love of God’s grace. The insinuation is that, unless you know Jesus; unless you’ve been baptized in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; unless you’ve confessed Christ as your Lord and Savior; you’ll never make it into God’s eternity on the other side of life as we know it.

And I suppose that’s one way to read it. And if it’s right there in black and white – or, even more, if it’s written in RED – depending upon the Bible you’re reading, than it must be true. But, to me, that seems short-sighted and self-serving and too simplistic in light of everything we know about Jesus – as the way, and the truth, and the life. As the good shepherd. As the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. As the Prince of Peace. As the king of all creation. As the Messiah, the light of the world, as the one who came not to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.

So, I can’t help but wonder if – and hope that – Jesus is saying something exactly the opposite from the restrictive, limited way so many people try to receive this text. What if Jesus is inviting us to read and to wonder about all of this from a different perspective entirely?

What if we’re supposed to hear, wonder about, and celebrate the “many dwelling places” that are being prepared for us, instead of focusing so much on the one way we get through the door of the house? And what if Jesus’ point is that there’s room for more than some of us are inclined to think, or expect, or want, if we were the ones in charge? And what if Jesus had a little snark in his voice – and what if we listened with a little more humility – when he says, “…if I go there to prepare a place for you – yeah, you – I will come again and I will take you to myself, so that where I am, there [even] you will be also.”

Because if you follow Jesus around long enough – and pay attention to his words and his actions; to his prayers and his teachings; to his living, his dying, and his rising – none of this should surprise you, Philip, or Francia; Thomas or Theresa.

“Have I been with you all this time and still you do not know me?”

Jesus promised the Kingdom often to all sorts of people, not because they got baptized first; not because they passed some test; not because they got confirmed at the first service this morning; not because they came to worship every Sunday, in a certain kind of church in any particular country. Jesus promised the Kingdom – and people experienced God’s heaven – not because they were Lutheran or Catholic or Christian, even, by our standards, anyway.

There was that hemorrhaging woman who experienced the power of heaven in her healed body. There was that sinful woman who anointed Jesus’ feet who then, because of her faith and forgiveness on this side of the grave, shared the love of God in return. There was that condemned thief who was promised the kingdom from the cross of his own crucifixion.

There was the Prodigal Son who’s father welcomed him home even though he didn’t deserve it. There was the surprisingly good Samaritan who no one thought would do the right thing. There was the proverbial Lost Sheep who the shepherd goes after to save, even at the risk of the rest of the flock.

There was Nicodemus, the Pharisee, who came with questions by night. There was Thomas who doubted him. And there was Peter who denied Jesus in his darkest, most desperate hour.

Contrary to the misguided expectations of too many Philips in the world, Jesus has shown us exactly who he is and more about the nature of God, the Father, than we are always ready to believe. I think Jesus is saying today that his love has no limits as he showed over and over and over, and time and time and time again. (“If you know me, you will know my Father also,” he promises. “You do know him and you have seen him,” he reminds his disciples.” “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father,” he assures his followers.) And if God, in Jesus, has no limit to the grace he’s willing to offer, how dare we expect, pretend, preach, or practice otherwise?

Which is to say, I think we’re supposed to see Jesus’ words about “no one coming to the Father, except through him” not as a threat … or as a means of exclusion … or as a demand for requisite baptism or Christian conversion of some kind. As you’ve heard me say before, let’s stop scaring people away from Hell and start loving them into Heaven, instead.

Because I think what Jesus says today is a promise, not...

Many Rooms and the E. Street Band