When I was growing up I went to a Christian sleep-away camp that I still hold very fond memories of. Every summer was not complete without my week long stay of bunk beds, camp fires, and endless singing. One of the more popular songs was “Blind Man”. The chorus would repeat “I am the way, I am the truth, I am the life; the way to go home”. Home. That is how I always thought of heaven. After all, that’s what this passage is about, right? A road map to heaven? A way home? That’s what I was raised to believe.
But I have always struggled with John 14:6, the passage this lyric was based off of. The exclusive nature of Christians being the only ones with access to God never made sense with everything else I was taught about God; the grace, forgiveness, and unending love. The fervor for social justice, equity, and peace. Agape. How could a God like that endure an eternity of being separated from a beloved child? How could a God like that ever watch a child suffer for no reason other than pride? I cannot imagine a God who would look at their child; made in their image and filled with their love, and say that because that child did not use God’s name they do not deserve to feel God’s presence. A God of love does not put recognition over relationship.
A God of love will greet their child and, with the warmth of a relative who has known this child their whole life but met when the child was too young to remember, will embrace them and say “my, how you’ve grown. It’s so good to see you”. A God of love shows us that the way, the truth, and the life was that love all along. Not a Christian identity or a certainty of being the only ones who got it right. Loving God, and loving one another. That is the way to being fully present with God. That is the way home.
Prayer: Loving and comforting God, Be with us in the heartbreak, hope, and healing of Holy Week. Hold us in your compassionate care as we let our love guide us closer to you and your creation. Show us the way to love people, in all their truth, and bring more grace into this life. Amen.
Christina D’Onofrio was raised in both the Catholic church and the Reformed Church of America. She worked in youth ministry for six years and has always enjoyed incorporating writing into the ways she talks about and listens to faith journeys.