John 14:1–12 (John 14:1–14)

The end of the Father’s invisibility. The Way of the ministerial Church

(John 14:1–6)

    ‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me’ (v. 1).

Jesus invites faith in Him because He has been condemned as a sinner, unbalanced and accursed, precisely by the teachers of the things of God.

His proposed path breaks away from the illusory plots of a religion devoid of Exodus.

Now the disciples must learn to live with physical separation from the Master.

And through a process of love, as on a road travelled on foot, to continue reaching out to their brothers and sisters in Him. 

Here they come to know the descending Way of the Father: the Person of Christ is all that the whole of humanity needs for a life redeemed from subordination, from fears, from the lies of ancient religion.

The journey is not individualistic or isolated. Nor does Jesus return surrounded by ostentation and power, for he has never ‘left’: in the Spirit, he has never been separated.

He is the driving force and the reason, the strength of the concrete journey, the dynamic principle that accompanies, guides and transcends; as well as the [non-external] destination.

He manifests himself and lives within the inner Mystery in us, not at the end of time or in a specific location (v.5).

The Incarnation continues in unique, ever-new ways, which are discerned in personal journeys and especially in the relationship of active Faith.

Under the image of the House [almost divided into spaces], the Lord alludes to the new condition of Life and complete Communion with the Faithful Father of Love.

The popular image of the afterlife was linked to a specific number of ‘places’ in which the faithful people would be lodged.

In this archetypal configuration, the Faith of believers introduces a different kind of representation, which fulfils and transcends the ancient promises – no longer anchored to the customary distinction between vices and virtues.

Women and men have a ‘place’ (v.2) [task, mission] already prepared and assured: there we shall be with the Son who is Coming.

Recognising us in our dignity, the Lord himself will descend from heaven: he will even come to meet us (cf. 1 Thess 4:15–17) as if each of us had become an ‘alter Christus’.

That is, as if we had been reshaped by the Father in the very image of Jesus.

Recreated on the principle of original love – in the way we ought to have been and perhaps even could have been.

Excluding the spurious aspects, of unfaithfulness to the call to life.

Finally radiant with the Mystery revealed, living together in our differences and wholly given.

Like Him, enthusiastic lords-servants of freedom.

Exultant heralds of a universal centrality, yet in contrast to political or fundamentalist messianic expectations, which are ignorant and closed-minded, seeing neither nor encountering.

In the Father’s House there are many dwelling places (v.2), that is to say – according to sensibility, inclination and history – varied ways to serve our brothers and sisters; to fulfil oneself, to weave community bonds, to extend the presence of the Risen One.

The conscious and ministerial Church broadens the horizon of holiness and the apostolate.

We are all called to become fully involved members, collaborators in the work of salvation. Protagonists in the activities of the People of God, who values each one.

This is the Victory of the Son.

The hands of the Living One in his Assemblies bear wounds of love, not claws like those of the leaders of ancient religiosity.

His—our—works are of a different kind: they do not grab, they do not hold back, they do not slap, they do not punish; they do not serve merely to stage catwalks and theatrics.

They follow the alternative path of labour, of building and welcoming; truly special, because it is unknown, selfless; devoid of the limelight.

Hands marked by what is desired for the world: open, not clenched into fists – if anything, with that gentle squeeze that says: ‘I am with you’ – so that others too may feel caressed and be helped to chart the path that suits them.

The ‘Way’ that makes the weak strong.

‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God and believe in me’ (v.1). Precisely.

Let us reiterate: Jesus invites us to faith in Him because He was condemned as a sinner, unbalanced and accursed, precisely by the teachers of the things of God.

His proposed path breaks away from the illusory plots of a religion devoid of Exodus.

Instead of doctrine and discipline, the ‘Way’ broadens our horizons – tearing us from the cages that imprison and hold us hostage, to conquer the land of Freedom.

He is ‘Truth’. We know what happens to a piece of news when it is passed from mouth to mouth: it becomes distorted.

And whether through ignorance or self-interest, the most varied agencies of manipulation of consciences still dominate the scene; capable of turning the meaning of the Gospel and the story of Christ on its head – not without personal gain.

But united with the True Person – intertwined with his story – we encounter ourselves.

We come to know divine Faithfulness; we choose substance over the superficiality that enslaves us with conventional, conformist or fleeting ideas (we would become entirely external).

‘I Am Life’. The Father expands and empowers our inclinations, our existential makeup; to the point of reconciling opposites.

He does not drain us as if He were the one in need of something.

He is the totality of Being and the Source in action, the wellspring of particular essences.

In religions, women and men are depersonalised, because they live in service to God.

His Call, however, is a Seed, a Root that defines our deepest identity and expands the pulse of life.

In this way, making it singular, more distinctive; unique, unrepeatable, meaningful, relational.

The Father does not make the usual moralistic appeal to elevate us, detaching us from others – perhaps by adopting devotional models shaped by the mysticism of suffering [or, conversely, by glossy abstractions] – at the risk of undermining the fundamental pillars of our personality.

He does not impose obedience on his children (as if we were servants or sheep) but calls us to ‘resemble him’. Trusting in our inner resources – as if, in seed form, we were already perfect and capable of any development.

Thus is He who Comes – but not with a controlling or paternalistic attitude. And respectfully knocks to merge with us; for He already considers us Better, not inadequate or lacking.

He allows us to say: ‘I’ and to encounter ourselves – and on this solid foundation to build a living community, through the exchange of resources and dreams; through listening to eccentricities [which are also our own].

When we are able to transform ourselves once more, accepting his proposal, starting from our innate resources to reach out towards others, we broaden our outlook.

We become more open to providential Novelty in real life – ready for any direction.

By allowing ourselves to be saved, by letting ourselves be guided by the intuitions of his Spirit, we shall be People capable of thought; convinced, in every respect. Neither stunted, nor contraband.

In short: we are children called to express ourselves personally, and to make our own contribution, original and equally dignified. To build an alternative society capable of creating well-being: smiles and wonder that flow forth, bringing joy to all.

The end of God’s invisibility.

Mysticism of the Power of Conviction

(Jn 14:6–14)

‘Show us the Father’ is the plea – often anonymous – that has accompanied the People of Believers from the very beginning, revealing their Lord as the Way, the Truth and the Life (v.6).

Love is learned only over time, by walking many paths and taking risks personally: it follows the path of humanity and of the Exodus. The Church that reflects Christ is one that reaches out, which does not rest on its laurels but sets out [Way].

The assembly of the children does not fear becoming ‘impure’ by frequenting the cultural and existential peripheries, for it has understood the true face of God: Faithful [Truth, in the theological sense].

The Eternal One is not afraid to mingle with earthly affairs: He does not shy away from critical scrutiny; nor does He abandon those who stray, or cannot bear obligations, or find themselves in need.

The authentic Community is that of Life: it manifests the Father and the Son in action. 

In the Spirit, it restores each person’s journey and restores boundless completeness and fullness of being even to those who have lost hope or self-esteem (often despised by those who possess nothing superior).

How does this differ from ancient religion? The Eternal One no longer reveals Himself in the astonishing power of sensational external manifestations: fire, earthquakes, lightning, thunder.

In the communities of Faith where the Person [‘Name’: vv.13-14] of Christ is made present in his troubled and real life, God dreams of an immediate reflection of ideas, words, deeds, and mutual immanence.

The Father’s effective action is wholly in the flesh of the Son. Their Dream, in the human dimension of believers.

John frequently emphasises Jesus’ relationship with the Father: a sort of direct ‘vision’, which carries within it union and mission.

The Way-through, the Truth-Faithfulness-in-spite-of-all of the Most High, his Life of indestructible quality… are not merely future realities: the experience of personal and fraternal Faith brings them to life.

We too wish to ‘see God’, and it is possible. But not face to face, in the way we perceive things and people (v.8).

The contemplation of his Face and his Presence—to be known and believed—comes to humanity through his Word-event: Jesus himself, through whom we have perfect knowledge.

His mission in the world has made the plan of uncreated love its own, a plan that seeks to spread life.

He still intends to explain it not to the hard-hearted and self-righteous who are even familiar with how to evade the scrutiny of the Gospels, but to the poor who do not know where or to whom to cling.

Consequently, the divine vision grows to the extent that knowledge of the Son and his foundational relationship deepens.

The fourth Gospel expresses a formula of mutual immanence (vv. 9–11) which speaks of a shared way of feeling, speaking and acting, for our benefit.

Faith is, in the final analysis, an Action.

A real act whereby the Father believes in the Son, and the Son in the Father.

The salvation of the little flock in constant renewal and crisis. Not a process of election and predestination.

Thus our faith-love in Christ draws us closer to God.

And when the Father dwells within the believer, He does not detach Himself, adjusting to perfections, but works directly through him; just as He worked through Jesus.

Here are Signs and events – including upheavals – that become intimately personal and ecclesial.

Works unfolded in history, even greater (v.12). ‘Greater’ than their Seed planted in our mud.

The story of a poor, landless carpenter’s son, a village preacher, pressured and humiliated by the authorities – in whom we recognise ourselves and who offers access.

Yet, not by long-standing privilege.

Even in our irreverent flesh, in the paradox and in the communion of the small remnant of the saved, here is the strange Fulfilment of the interrupted paths – through the Word of the Father, in the Spirit.

Manifestation of the relational Mystery of his Being, which in the faithful Gift of his reaffirmed Covenant restores the opposing faces and redeems the shadowed sides.

A covenant now spontaneous. By the power of conviction.

To internalise and live the message:

How do you perceive God’s plan for you through the Face of the Son? 

How do you sense that you have accepted his communion in the ‘Name’, and reached the Father?

How do you respond to the Call?

How do you enter into divine intimacy?

What is your close connection with the Son, who reveals the Father?