By Neil Earle
He did, you know.
John Stott raised this issue in Basic Christianity: “The most striking feature of the teaching of Jesus is that he was constantly talking about himself. It is true that he spoke much about the fatherhood of God and the kingdom of God. But then he added that he was the Father’s Son, and that he had come to inaugurate the kingdom. Entry into the kingdom depended on men’s response to him. He even did not hesitate to call the kingdom of God ‘my kingdom.’”
Stott expanded on this peculiarity of the Gospels in his next paragraph setting it amid the context of the world religions: “This self-centeredness of the teaching of Jesus immediately set him apart from the other great religious teachers of the world. They were self-effacing. He was self-advancing. They pointed men away from themselves saying, ‘That is the truth, so far as I perceive it; follow that.’ Jesus said, ‘I am the truth; follow me.’ The founder of none of the ethnic religions ever dared to say such a thing” (page 23).
These statements alone would make Jesus important in religious history. But it goes further. This Jesus of the Gospels, as opposed to the popular image of him, was quite inquisitive about how he was being received. “Who do men say that I am?” he quizzed his disciples once. “Who do you say that I am?” he followed up (Mark 8:27-30).
“Before Abraham was, I am;” “A greater than Solomon is here.” “A greater than Jonah is here.” “If you knew who I was…” he chided the Samaritan woman (John 4:10).
How do we explain this somewhat unusual theme in the Gospels?
The one whom people almost universally hail as the greatest moral teacher the world has ever seen, the man who preached and exemplified meekness, who set the example of demonstrating commitment through a most agonizing death – this Jesus of Nazareth put things in a way that could leave him wide open to the charge of egotism. His religious opponents had another word for it: Blasphemy!
Recall the outraged audience of John 8.
Under the spur of intense debate Jesus gave his quite typical assertions as to his self-identity. “I came from God,” “I tell the truth,” “Can any of you prove me guilty of sin?” “If anyone keeps my word he will never see death.”
The religious leaders were flabbergasted. “Are you greater than our Father Abraham?” they shot back. “Who do you think you are?”
Jesus retorted in words like, “You don’t even know God. I do.”
Then came his boldest testimony: “Your father Abraham rejoiced at the thought of seeing my day; he saw it and was glad…I tell you the truth, before Abraham was born, I am” (John 8:56-58).
That did it. They picked up stones to throw at him. His claims blew all their categories.
Jesus will do that. He does that today when religious people in the North Atlantic region feel in the mood for a religious discussion. Religious hobbyists, so-called enlightened people, our neighbors and work mates, they can sometimes talk about God until the cows come home. Ever notice that? After all, it’s fun to speculate on God – if he exists, and his role – if he has one, and his relevance – if there is any. But mention “Jesus” and things get a bit awkward. There are the alleged miracles, you see. There are these claims of a resurrection, you know. Then there are these embarrassing statements. No, this young rabbi from Nazareth didn’t leave too much wiggle room. “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6).
There’s not much left to say after that except maybe “Prove it!” The Buddha didn’t make this claim. Zoroaster didn’t say that. Confucius wasn’t even delving into “the God issue.” Mohammed never came close to teaching in such terms.
It is this bold, frank, assertive self-understanding of Jesus as God that leaves us a bit breathless.
“You can’t get to the Father except through me.” That powerful thought in John 14 reinforces one of the seven “I am” texts in the book of John. Just a brief overview of these texts can help answer the question on our cover: Why is Jesus so important?
Many commentators through the ages have noticed how, in John’s Gospel, Jesus describes himself in seven primary word-pictures or metaphors connected to the mini-sentence “I am.” Here they are:
I am the Bread of Life (John 6:35, 51)
I am the Light of the world (John 8:12)
I am the Gate (John 10:7, 9)
I am the Good Shepherd (John 10:11, 14)
I am the Resurrection and the Life (11:25)
I am the Way, the Truth, the Life (14:6)
I am the Vine (15:1, 5)
Gorge Beasley-Murray in his Word Commentary on John’s Gospel pointed out how often the theme of life shows up in this formula. Indeed “life,” zoe in Greek, is one of John’s characteristic words going back to John 1:4. Beasely-Murray explains: “As the Son lives through the Father i.e. has his life from and is sustained by the Father, so the believer has life from and is sustained by the Son…the Father has given to the Son to have life in himself, and through him alone can that divine life be known by man” (page 95). The Son came to bring us divine eternal life, not this mere chemical existence such as the Israelites had and exemplified by munching away on temporary life-giving manna. Jesus brings divine life, the very life of the Godhead, life on an altogether more exalted plane than we can imagine. That upward orientation to true life inside us begins now in this world. It is our inner motivation to change, to give us a new incentive for holy living, a sense of ever-new beginnings bubbling up inside. Jesus said so. This is what he offered (John 4:14).
No sane human ever spoke like Jesus spoke. After the feeding of the 5000, Jesus took this word picture about the Bread of Life to a new level. In John 6: 53-54 he says “unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life and I will raise him up at the last day.” Those are words never found in the Hindu Vedas or Shakespeare or the Koran. Jesus is claiming that He Himself is the only sustainable spiritual sustenance for the world. He is the one essential for true life. Yes, he is talking about himself again and this time his claims are so stupendous that many of his disciples leave him (John 6:66).
The next “I am” statement reinforces this. “I am the Light of the word” he says in John 8:12. This statement was given at the Jewish Feast of Tabernacles when the inner courts were lit with torches and candelabra so bright that the whole city glowed. The bright lights accentuated the festive nature of the eight-day rejoicing (John 7:10-11). In Genesis One, light is the first thing God created. A pillar of fire guided Israel in the wilderness. But right there in those Temple courts Jesus made the claim to be humankind’s one true source of illumination, our shining guide through the encircling gloom of this dying world. Jesus is this and more for he adds: “He who follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.” This strong affirmation provoked a bitter dispute with the Temple leaders. It ended in the passage cited above where this Galilean visitor claimed to pre-exist Abraham.
The claim to be the world’s light adds another dimension regarding the importance of Jesus. It elaborates what John already opened with in John 1:4, “that life was the light of men.” The difference between following Jesus and any other religious leader is the difference between light and darkness. That is a simple but profound point. Jesus as the true Light, says John Tasker, “opens the eyes of men’s spiritual understanding and guides them into the truth about themselves and about what God has done to satisfy their most urgent needs (Tyndale Commentary: John, page 113). To forsake Jesus for some other spiritual leader is to miss out on what is of first importance in religion – to know truth from error.
“I am the Gate” in John 10:7 reinforces the strong claims Jesus has been making so far. Ultimately, there is no other way to God than through Jesus Christ. Today this bold exclusivity bothers people. Jesus is still a rock of offence (1 Peter 2:8). Other teachers have come up with some good principles for living and have advanced some intriguing philosophies but Jesus is not a philosopher. Neither is he a philosophical or theological principle to be argued about. Nor is he a cultural residue, a fading imprint left over from the Victorian era. Gates provide access and Paul taught the Ephesians that “through him we have access to the Father” (Ephesians 2:18). Moses had a sense of God’s immensity. Isaiah and the prophets of Israel wrote movingly of the God they knew but Jesus brings access. He comes from the very heart of the Triune God – the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – to locate us back there, to be equipped and then to be sent back out again (2 Corinthians 5:20). In a very real sense, through him we sit, already, in the heavenly places (Ephesians 2:6).
Early church fathers saw that. One of them wrote that ”when Jesus brings us to the Father he calls himself a door, when he takes care of us, a Shepherd.” And indeed the Shepherd analogy – one of the most famous and endearing word pictures in Scripture – follows right after. There is one difference. Jesus calls himself “the Good Shepherd.”
In the Greek the word used for “good” here is not simply the word “agathos,” referring to moral virtue. It is “kalos” which is the sense conveyed in the phrase “the good doctor,” or “a good mother.” Kalos conveys the sympathy and graciousness which Jesus brings with him. Jesus was always doing things for other people. “Good Master” the afflicted called out to him. What a difference from too many world religions. Pagan worship, like much today, meant you were on the spot – you were obliged to do something for the god. But the Israelites knew a God who did things for them. Jesus incarnated that attitude to the highest degree. He promises to shepherd us to living springs of water and to feed us with everlasting nourishment (Revelation 7:16-17).
Once again we see the all-important design of God in sending Jesus among us in the very fullness of the deity while in the flesh (Colossians 2:9). It was to make our deepest and richest experience of life possible.
Just before the raising of Lazarus, Jesus had a fairly intense interview with the dead man’s sisters. They knew if Jesus had been there he could have healed their brother. When Jesus retorted that their brother would live again, Martha repeated the Jewish creed about the dead living again at the last day. Jesus answered with a very bold “I am” statement: “I am the resurrection and the life,” he said, “whoever lives and believes in me will never die” (John 11:25). Jesus proved the veracity of that claim by raising a dead man under the very noses of the Jerusalem hierarchy. This is one of the climactic moments in the book of John. According to the Gospel writer this action makes Jesus’ death inevitable – his enemies now had to stop him (John 11:45-50).
Jesus as the Resurrection and our Life means that even death is but a way-station on our walk with him toward real life. When a medieval saint was dying he told those around him: “Weep not, as I leave the land of the dying I trust to see the blessings of the Lord in the land of the living.” Revelation 14:13 says “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord.” What a marvelous hope. One of the very important reasons for Jesus’ coming was to deliver us from the fear of death (Hebrews 2:12). Other religious and moral teachers had and may have truths, perhaps, but Jesus is the Truth personified. As he himself intimated, “I am the Way to the Father, the Truth about existence and the Life of the world to come (John 14: 6).
The last “I am” statement makes Jesus of supreme importance to his followers then and now. Jesus is the vine, he said, we are the branches (John 15: 5). As we stay attached to him we are able to learn more and more about who he is and the tasks he has set us to perform in out time. William Barclay comments that, unlike other human teachers, the more we know Jesus the more we admire and adore him. He is the one and only. He truly is beyond our ken yet he weeps at a man’s funeral and is touched and moved by our cries for help. And he comes to us to tell us, “Relax, I have overcome the world and all it can do to you.”
Can anything or anyone be more important than that?