DO NOT LET your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. 2In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. 3And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. 4You know the way to the place where I am going.”
5Thomas said to him, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?”
6Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. 7If you really knew me, you would know my Father as well. From now on, you do know him and have seen him.”
8Philip said, “Lord, show us the Father and that will be enough for us.”
9Jesus answered: “Don’t you know me, Philip, even after I have been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? 10Don’t you believe that I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me? The words I say to you are not just my own. Rather, it is the Father, living in me, who is doing his work. 11Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; or at least believe on the evidence of the miracles themselves. 12I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father. 13And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father. 14You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it.
15“If you love me, you will obey what I command. 16And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Counselor to be with you forever—17the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you. 18I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. 19Before long, the world will not see me anymore, but you will see me. Because I live, you also will live. 20On that day you will realize that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you. 21Whoever has my commands and obeys them, he is the one who loves me. He who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I too will love him and show myself to him.”
22Then Judas (not Judas Iscariot) said, “But, Lord, why do you intend to show yourself to us and not to the world?”
23Jesus replied, “If anyone loves me, he will obey my teaching. My Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him. 24He who does not love me will not obey my teaching. These words you hear are not my own; they belong to the Father who sent me.
25“All this I have spoken while still with you. 26But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. 27Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.
28“You heard me say, ‘I am going away and I am coming back to you.’ If you loved me, you would be glad that I am going to the Father, for the Father is greater than I. 29I have told you now before it happens, so that when it does happen you will believe. 30I will not speak with you much longer, for the prince of this world is coming. He has no hold on me, 31but the world must learn that I love the Father and that I do exactly what my Father has commanded me.
“Come now; let us leave.”
Original Meaning
JOHN 14 IS a continuation of the Farewell Discourse that began in 13:31 after Judas’s departure from the Upper Room. In the previous chapter we saw how Jesus is adapting a “farewell formula” well known in Judaism. He comforts his disciples in light of his impending departure by explaining what will come, how the Spirit will arrive, and how they will flourish as his followers. Throughout these verses (beginning in ch. 13) we can feel how distraught the disciples must have been. They have entered Jerusalem for the last time and Jesus is speaking clearly about his death. They are facing profound shame, disillusionment, and fear. Peter was the first to express their worry (13:36). Jesus now begins to provide answers to their many spoken (and unspoken) questions.
A great deal of scholarly energy has been spent on deciphering the literary structure and theological purposes of John 14. Scholars prone to locate sources behind this Gospel and to reconstruct the compositional history of the chapter claim to find complex cycles of thought here that really tell us more about John’s thinking than about Jesus. But much of this work seems dubious at best.1 The primary theme of the chapter is the departure and return of Jesus. This discussion is advanced through the questions of various disciples: Peter (13:36), Thomas (14:5), Philip (14:8), and Judas (14:22). Jesus likely taught for a long time during this supper and what we have here are summaries of his words. These disciples’ questions are thus literary devices that push the subject along, raising important themes and advancing the chapter to its climax.
We can discern a shift in subject at 14:18. From 14:1–14 Jesus is addressing the disciples’ despair over his leaving. This is followed by his first promise of the Spirit (14:15–18). Jesus then turns to the subject of his return in 14:18, which is followed by yet another promise of the Spirit (14:25–31).
But the themes of “departure and return” are more complex than we might imagine. Jesus’ departure refers to his glorification (that mix of subjects that begins with the arrest and concludes with his ascension). His return is likewise complex: In 14:18–19 Jesus’ return seems to describe his “Easter return,” when his disciples will see him. But in 14:21 we learn that another “coming” of Jesus to his disciples will result in his indwelling them spiritually (14:23). In each case—Jesus leaving, Jesus returning—the Holy Spirit plays a vital role in comforting, empowering, and reassuring the followers of Christ. The entire chapter ends in a blessing of “peace” (14:27–31) that Jesus bestows on his followers.
Jesus’ Departure from this World (14:1–14)
ON THREE PREVIOUS occasions we learned of Jesus’ deeply troubled feelings (Gk. tarasso): when he faced Lazarus’ tomb (11:33), when he contemplated the cross (12:27), and when he reflected on the betrayal of Judas (13:21). Jesus’ confidence in the greater power and purposes of God made it possible for him to confront each of these crises. Now the disciples must face the same feelings (14:1). Jesus’ answer can be read either as an indicative (“You [already] believe in God and you believe in me”) or as an imperative (“Believe in God! Believe also in me!”), since the Greek forms for the indicative and imperative are identical in this case.2 The imperative for both verbs seems preferable (as it is in 12:36; 14:11) since Jesus is charging his disciples to hold fast in light of the upcoming crisis. This follows the majority readings of current translations, such as the NIV: “Trust in God; trust also in me.”
One of the reasons to trust is that Jesus’ departure will be purposeful. In his departure he will be working on their behalf, preparing a place for them (14:2). The KJV “mansions” (for Gk. monai, “rooms”) was a seventeenth-century expression for modest dwellings; thus, 14:2 should not build a picture for us of heavenly palatial residences. This is not Jesus’ point. God’s “house” refers not to the church but to the heavenly dwelling where he lives (cf. Heb. 12:22; Rev. 21:9–22:5), and a mone is a place of residence there with him. This word is related to the common Johannine verb meno, to remain or abide. To “remain” with Jesus is the highest virtue in John’s Gospel (15:4–10), and he is promising that death will not interrupt intimacy enjoyed with him.
To have a place in heaven reserved for us is one thing; confidence in getting there is quite another (13:36–37). But Jesus promises that he “will come back.”3 The image is straightforward: Jesus is leaving for heaven and there will prepare a place for his followers; then he will return to take them there. But when will this “coming” occur? At Easter? At the coming of the Spirit? At our death? At his second coming? Scholars have pointed to each of these. For some, it is each one together, so that the verses represent a sweeping all-inclusive promise of encouragement.
Even though it is Christ who comes in each event, the best view takes 14:2–3 as a plain promise of the Second Coming.4 As the chapter develops, Jesus points to other returns he will make (14:18, 23), but these are separate from what he affirms here. John has a genuine future eschatology that expects a dramatic climax to history (5:25ff.; 1 John 2:28). But here his interest is not like that found in the apocalyptic drama of Mark 13:24–26; rather, it is in comforting and reassuring his disciples that they have not been forgotten.
While Jesus affirms (14:4) that they know where he is going,5 Thomas speaks up and presses for more clarification. He claims that they know neither the destination of Jesus nor the way he will take to get there. This reflects the disciples’ inability to comprehend that the cross will be the way Jesus will return to the Father—a way, if they understood, they would have trouble accepting.6 Peter had already asked about Jesus’ destination (13:36) but this had been left unanswered. Thomas now picks it up again and adds another element.
Jesus’ answer in 14:6 is the premier expression of the theology of this entire Gospel: “Jesus answered, ‘I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.’ ” Of the three terms, emphasis surely falls on the first, “the way.” Access to the Father’s presence in heaven will only be through Jesus and no other. He is the only one who can lead his followers back to the places he will prepare.
This is the case because Jesus is the truth, the authoritative representative and revealer of God. He hears what God says and obeys what God tells him to do (5:19; 8:29). He discloses God exhaustively unlike anyone else can because he has seen God (1:18). Those who follow Jesus, who come to the Father through his “way,” will be the ones who gain eternal “life” (cf. 11:25, “I am the resurrection and the life”). Thus, this verse places Jesus in the role of mediator, creating the only avenue to God. Bruce has written, “All truth is God’s truth, as all life is God’s life; but God’s truth and God’s life are incarnate in Jesus.”7
Such an absolute statement leads, of course, to a different series of questions. Jesus has disclosed more than anyone expected. Instead of simply defining his destination (the Father, heaven), he says that he alone is the way to get there. But only God can lead us to himself. Jesus takes the next inevitable step, therefore, a step no doubt that the disciples can barely comprehend: Only the Father can lead us to himself—and the Father is genuinely present in Jesus.
This is an echo of the prologue (1:1–2), which explained the ultimate union (and differentiation) of the Son and the Father. Jesus Christ is God in complete human form (1:14) and so has the capacity to accomplish divine tasks. Hence if his followers know Jesus, they will know the Father as well (14:7). This is not a rebuke,8 but a promise pointing to a deeper revelation that will come if they continue with Jesus (14:23). Since they have known him, there is more to come, and they will discover the Father who is present in him. Moreover, they have seen the Father already (14:7b).
Philip’s question (14:8) now concentrates on Jesus’ last phrase. “Lord, show us the Father and that will be enough for us.” This is perhaps a typical “misunderstanding” that we have seen in numerous Johannine discourses. Philip does not understand that no one has seen God (1:18a). It is beyond the human capacity. Even Moses’ request on Mount Sinai was refused (Ex. 33:18–23). But in Christ Philip has before him the full embodiment of God as it can be seen by humanity. Nevertheless, Jesus now says with utter clarity what Philip could not comprehend before (14:9). In seeing Jesus Philip is seeing God. This is one of the high points of John’s Christology. Jesus is not simply a religious teacher or guide, nor is he simply the means to some other destination. He is also the end, the goal. He is the One in whom God can be found. The exhaustive and exclusive nature of this astonishing claim cannot be missed (cf. 10:30, 37–38).
Such a claim requires justification, and Jesus supplies it (14:10–11). At its most basic level, Jesus is God’s envoy. In the ancient world, a duly authorized representative (an agent) had the power to speak and act in the name of his sender. Thus the rabbinic saying “A man’s agent is like himself” (m. Berakoth 5:5) means that Jesus (as God’s agent) is authorized both to work for and to speak for his Sender.
But “agency” barely touches the surface of Jesus’ thought. Jesus and the Father enjoy a reciprocity of life: The Father is in him and he is in the Father. This is not merely a functional unity, as if Jesus’ life could be summed up by his obedience. This is an exhaustive, substantial unity—an ontological unity—that at last explains statements hinted in the public ministry: “I and the Father are one” (10:30; cf. 10:38).
The First Promise of the Spirit (14:12–17)
THE GOAL OF Jesus’ words from the beginning of this discourse has been to encourage and comfort his followers. John 14:12–14 begins a change of subject. If it is true that the power of God is resident in Jesus and that the disciple is invited to know Jesus and gain life from him, then in some manner the disciple will share in God’s power. (1) It is of utmost importance to note that the astonishing promise of 14:12 points to the future. Jesus must first go to the Father before the promise of remarkable works and realized prayer can come.
(2) In addition, there can be no diminishing of what these verses say: The works of Jesus refer to his miraculous signs, and in some respect every believer (14:12a, “anyone who has faith”) will be able to participate in such work.
(3) Whatever believers do must be done in the name of Jesus so that as God is glorified in Jesus’ work, they will do mighty works in Jesus’ name. Jesus’ works glorify the Father, and disciples (whose lives continue the work of Jesus) continue to glorify the Father.
Once Jesus departs, two promises will be realized in the community of faith: Great works will accompany those who believe (14:12) and prayer will be answered (14:13). Note that the promise of 14:12 does not simply point to miracles. What Jesus has been doing includes deeds of humility, service, and love as well as miraculous signs. Jesus’ followers will do works that are “greater” even than these.
This promise can hardly mean that the efforts of disciples will exceed those of Jesus, who, for instance, provided the stupendous miracle of raising Lazarus from the dead. What is “greater” is that these works will be done by regular people in whom the power of Christ has taken up residence following his glorification. This is why the departure of Jesus is crucial, for only through that can the Holy Spirit become a reality to all who follow him (7:37–39). Recall 10:41, where we learned that John the Baptist (surely one of the greatest men in the era before Jesus’ glorification) could do no signs. He (and the present disciples) lived in an era completely different from what is to follow. The coming of the Spirit after Christ’s glorification will inaugurate an eschatological reality not known in the world.
One hallmark of the intimacy shared between Jesus and his disciples will be their ability to hear one another’s voice. In 10:3 a mark of the good shepherd is that his sheep can hear his voice. Now we learn that the shepherd can hear their voices in the same manner (14:13–14; cf. 1 John 5:14–15). This theme that Jesus will do what his disciples ask (in prayer) is frequent both in the Farewell Discourse (John 14:13, 14; 15:7, 16; 16:23, 24, 26) and in the Johannine letters (1 John 3:21–22; 5:14–15).9 Such prayer is given in “Jesus’ name” and directed to Jesus.
However, John can just as easily refer to this prayer as directed to the Father (15:16; 16:23); no doubt we should not make too much of this difference since every prayer must come in “Jesus’ name.” This promise of answered prayer is really a continuation of what is given in 14:13. Such answered prayer is another “great work” that Jesus will accomplish among them. The disciples’ lives will be continuation of Jesus’ life in the world. Both great deeds and answered prayer glorify the Father because it is Jesus who is at work still accomplishing them. But because this is so, such prayer is predicated on the assumption that it fits with the will and purposes of Christ in the world (14:15). Later John will write essentially the same thing in his first letter: “This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us” (1 John 5:14).
Thus far we have learned nothing about the coming of the Spirit following Jesus’ glorification. At the Feast of Tabernacles John noted explicitly that the Spirit had not yet been given because Jesus had not yet been glorified (7:37–39). Now as Jesus anticipates his departure, he describes the Spirit that is coming (14:15–17). The Spirit’s gift in these verses is controlled by verse 15a, “if you love me.”10 The gift, then, is an outgrowth of the loving relationship between Jesus and his disciples, not an entitlement earned by the disciple.
Jesus uses an unusual term in 14:16 for the Spirit. The NIV “Counselor” translates the Greek parakletos, often transliterated “Paraclete.” This word is unique to John in the New Testament. Of the five Spirit promises in this discourse (14:16, 26; 15:26; 16:7; 16:12–14), four of them include this title (14:16, 26; 15:26; 16:7). A fifth (and final) use occurs in 1 John 2:1, where Jesus is called a parakletos.
Extensive scholarly debate as well as every commentary on John tries to probe the meaning of this word.11 It comes from a verbal root that describes someone “called alongside”12 and occurs in secular Greek literature for an advocate in a court of law, who comes “alongside” a person to speak in his or her defense and provide counsel. The Greek term became popular in the first century and was even a loan word in Hebrew and Aramaic for a similar judicial setting (P. Aboth, 4:11).13 The word does not mean “comfort” (as in the KJV “Comforter”) except in the old English understanding of someone who strengthens (from Latin, confortare, to strengthen; fortis, strong). “Counselor” (RSV, NIV) is a popular translation, but today its therapeutic connotations can be misleading. Rather, one must think of a “legal counselor.” Thus the best translation is “Advocate” (NRSV), so that Jesus is pointing to the Spirit’s judicial or legal service (see comments on 15:18–27; 16:7–11). Many scholars prefer to leave the word untranslated (though no modern translation has done so).
It is interesting that Jesus calls the Spirit another Paraclete. This should not be taken to mean that the Father will send “another person, namely, a Paraclete.” First John 2:1 makes clear that John views Jesus also as a Paraclete (“But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous,” NRSV, italics added)14 Jesus is thus a Paraclete, who is now sending a second Paraclete. This means that the ongoing work of the Spirit will be a continuation of the work of Jesus during the disciples’ lifetime.
In John’s mind, this serves his “judicial” framework for the Gospel (see comments on John 5): Jesus has been on trial and like an advocate he has produced evidence and witnesses for the truth about God. The Paraclete, then, will pick up where Jesus leaves off. It is no surprise that he is also called “the Spirit of truth” (14:17; also 15:26; 16:13). He communicates the truth about God, which is the essence of God’s work in Christ (1:17; 4:24; 5:33; 8:32, 40). Moreover, we know that Jesus is “the truth” (14:6), and inasmuch as the Spirit duplicates and sustains Jesus’ work, he will continue to defend the truth of Jesus.
In John’s Gospel, the world (14:17b, Gk. kosmos) refers to the human environment that is in rebellion against God (1:10; 3:16, 19; 7:7; 8:23; 12:31; 14:30) and in need of salvation (4:42; 6:14, 33, 51; 8:12). Like the Pharisees in chapter 9 who belong to this world, Jesus recognizes that such people cannot perceive or penetrate the deeper things of God, such as the mystery of the Holy Spirit (9:39). The disciples, however, can know the Spirit of truth because he (i.e., Jesus) has been with them all along—and will be in them in the future (i.e., in the Spirit).15
Jesus’ Return to His Disciples (14:18–24)
JESUS HAS ALREADY reassured his followers that he will return in the drama of the Second Coming to rescue his disciples from this world (14:1–4). In the meantime (following his glorification), they will be empowered by the Spirit to sustain his mighty work in the world (14:12–17). Moreover, the Spirit will not be merely an ambiguous force coming upon them, but in a genuine way will sustain what they have loved about Jesus thus far. The Spirit-Paraclete will be “another” Paraclete, another presence who will recreate the person of Jesus within them.
But the crisis of the present moment still hangs heavy in the disciples’ hearts. In the near term, what comfort will Jesus give in light of his imminent death? It is fine for Jesus to promise the Spirit, but it is Jesus whom they will miss. “I will come to you” (14:18b) means that Jesus will not leave them desolate (NIV “orphans”).16
But does this refer to the coming of the Spirit (14:16–17)? The Second Coming (14:3)? Easter? Scholars have defended all three as possible answers.17 Subtle clues, however, suggest that this is Jesus’ coming after his resurrection on Easter. The time frame is specific (“before long”), and the disciples are to look for “that day” (14:20). Now it is not just a matter of the world failing to see him, but of the disciples having a private visual experience (14:19). Moreover this promise needs to be compared with 16:16–24, which uses similar language and makes the Easter promise specific. In other words, while from the world’s perspective Jesus will disappear from view (in his death), in his resurrection he will return to them alone and validate that the power of the Father has been with him all along (14:20).
But the coming of Jesus on Easter will mean more than a mere return of Jesus to life. His aim is to establish the sort of intimacy and unity he has promised throughout the discourse. The oneness he enjoys with the Father (14:20a) parallels the oneness the disciples will enjoy with him (14:20b). Thus the Easter return will be the bridge that will inaugurate the spiritual union Jesus wants with them. The call to obedience (14:21) is similar to that given in 14:15 and is a clue that Jesus is speaking of a union that will include the coming of the Spirit. This is precisely what happens when on Easter Jesus appears to them and in that setting they receive his Spirit (20:22).
If the question of Jesus’ return (after death) has now been clarified, Jesus has just connected another thought to it. Out of love for his disciples Jesus will “reveal” (14:21; NIV, show) himself to them, which will result in a profound spiritual union beyond the world’s comprehension. The question of Judas (who is not Judas Iscariot)18 presses Jesus on the nature of his appearance to the disciples (14:22), which will exclude the world. Surely, the disciples are thinking, the revelation of Jesus must happen before the world so that Jesus’ testimony and indeed, their testimonies, will be validated publicly.
Again (for the third time) Jesus talks about obedience as a key to what is planned (14:23): Those who love Jesus show it by their fidelity to his word. Out of love, the Father and Jesus will come to them and make their home with them (14:23). But the reverse is also the case (14:24). Those who fail to invest faith in Jesus—who do not love him and refuse to obey him—are not connected either to Jesus or the Father (who is behind and within Jesus’ words and mission) and so cannot share in this divine union.
The delicate play on words in chapter 14 should not be missed. Jesus “will come” to the disciples. This reality must be seen at three distinct points: Jesus’ climactic second coming, his Easter return, and now his “coming” to them in the interior experience of the Holy Spirit. Moreover, in 14:2 we learned that Jesus will depart in order to make heavenly “rooms” (monai) for his followers. Later he will come and take them there (14:3). But when he returns at Easter (“before long,” 14:19), he and the Father will reside within them, making a “home” (Gk. mone) within them (14:23). That is, the places of dwelling promised in 14:2 will be realized as places of “indwelling” in 14:23.
The Second Promise of the Spirit (14:25–31)
THE SECOND PROMISE of the Paraclete (14:25–26) brings further clarity to the role of the Spirit, since now he19 is described specifically as the “Holy Spirit.”20 The Paraclete is without doubt the Spirit of God experienced in the lives of disciples. The rudimentary Trinitarian implications of 14:25–26 are inescapable: The Father will send the Spirit in the name of Jesus. Therefore this spiritual revelation promised by Jesus is in fact the effort of God himself (in every dimension) working for our benefit.
Jesus now emphasizes the conserving and teaching roles of the Spirit. The concept of “remembering” occurs multiple times in this Gospel (2:17, 22; 12:16; 14:26; 15:20; 16:4, 21) and is linked to the “misunderstanding” of the disciples. During the earthly ministry of Jesus, understanding was difficult. But now, Jesus promises, the Spirit-Paraclete will recall the things he has done and said and fix them in the minds of his followers.
We can see this at work in John’s own Gospel. After Jesus cleansed the temple (2:13–23) John adds the editorial comment, “After he was raised from the dead, his disciples recalled what he had said. Then they believed the Scripture and the words that Jesus had spoken” (2:22). It was the resurrection—and its gift of the Spirit—that provided the meaning of Jesus’ works. The inspiration of the Spirit, therefore, does not bring forward new revelations about Jesus, but simply gives correct applications and meanings for what he did in history.21 Just as Jesus’ primary work was revealing the Father (1:18), so now the work of the Spirit-Paraclete is revealing the “Jesus of history” to his followers.
The discourse of chapter 14 closes with words of reassurance similar to those offered at the beginning. “Peace” refers to the Hebrew greeting shalom and for Jesus refers to the aim of his work on earth: to restore the equilibrium and richness of humanity’s relationship with God (Rom. 5:1).22 Nothing in the world can offer such a gift. Jesus’ shalom not only brings an end to the brokenness caused by sin, but it will be the fruit of the Spirit given when he departs. Thus when Jesus meets the disciples following his resurrection and gives them the Spirit, shalom is what he brings (20:19, 21, 26).
As in 14:1, Jesus mentions again that his disciples are troubled (14:27). Thus far his encouragement has described the benefits that his departure will bring: a new intimacy with God (and himself) wrought through the eschatological gift of the Spirit. Within the promise “I am going away and I am coming back to you” (14:28), the latter phrase is all that concerned the disciples. Now Jesus points to himself. Their love for him should lead to celebration because he is returning to where he began, to the Father. It is the Father who sent him, who gave him his words, and whose love for the world initiated Jesus’ mission and the planned indwelling of the Spirit. To receive the Father’s gifts is blessed; to return to live with the Giver is beyond comprehension.
Few verses have caused more controversy than 14:28b, “I am going to the Father, for the Father is greater than I.” Controversy centers on the many places in this Gospel where the equality and oneness of Jesus and the Father (e.g., 1:1–18; 5:16–18; 10:30; 20:28) are juxtaposed to affirmations describing the dependence of the Son on the Father (4:34; 5:19–30; 8:29; 12:48–49). Theologians have often pointed to one set of verses at the expense of the other.23 The phrase “is greater than” suggests (in some views) that Jesus simply cannot be God in the fullest sense, so that this verse has been used to deny the divinity of Christ.
Taken in isolation, this may appear to be the meaning of 14:28b; but if so, this verse jars the overwhelmingly divine portrait we have of Jesus in this Gospel. Making Jesus a lesser divinity or a lesser God would offend the solid Jewish monotheism of the Gospel. Making Jesus merely a human being loses the plain sense of his origin and unity with the Father in places such as the prologue, where incarnational Christology seems clear.
Classic exegesis has taken one of two paths out of this interpretative forest. Some interpreters have sought to make this “lesser” status refer to Jesus’ humanity limited in the Incarnation (Augustine, Ambrose). Others have pointed to eternal distinctions between the Father and Son that do not compromise the Son’s divinity. To use the language of another century, the Son is subordinate in person but not in essence (Tertullian, Athanasius). But these views owe more to later theological Trinitarian debates than the Gospel itself. Arguments about ontology are likely far from John’s mind. There is no thought of the creation or subordination of the Son (despite Arian uses of the verse). The Father’s greatness springs from his role as the origin and sender of Jesus, just as a ray of light might refer to the sun from which it came.
The word picture Jesus often uses to describe his life is the agent sent on a mission (17:4–5) and completing the assignments of his Sender (4:34; 5:30; 6:38–39; 9:4; 10:32, 37; 17:4). Within this agent/sender relationship, the originator of the mission has greater authority. In 13:16, Jesus cites the proverbial saying: “I tell you the truth, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him.” Later he repeats it for his disciples, who will be his agents in the world (15:20).24 As courier of God’s message, as the agent devoted to divine service, Jesus is acknowledging the relationship, the source, of what has brought that message to life (14:24b, 31a).
Not only should the disciples take comfort and rejoice because Jesus is returning to his origin (and then sending gifts), but they should realize that the events unfolding in Jerusalem for him are not controlled by Satan (14:30). In fact, his specific description of these matters (14:29) should prove to encourage their faith because when they occur, the disciples will recall his words and see his predictions fulfilled (cf. Mark 14:41–42). Moreover, Jesus’ obedience to God’s plan (14:31a) within these events should be seen as an example of his love for the Father (a love, hopefully, every disciple will imitate, 14:21).
Following the discourse Jesus says, “Rise; let us leave” (14:31b). This verse presents a notorious problem since Jesus and his disciples do not leave. Jesus teaches for three more chapters. In fact, one can easily read 18:1 directly after 14:31 and build a coherent picture, “When he had finished praying, Jesus left with his disciples and crossed the Kidron Valley.” Without the intervening chapters (chs. 15–17) the scene makes perfect sense: The discourse is found in chapter 14 and the group leaves for the Kidron Valley.
Scholars have offered various attempts to make sense of the literary problem, and few will satisfy every reader.25 (1) Many critical scholars argue that at some point, chapters 13–17 were edited (by John? by his followers?); these scholars then rearrange John 13–17 so that 14:31 is followed by 18:1. Bultmann, for instance, rearranged the discourse thus: 13:1–30; 17; 13:31–35; 15; 16; 13:36–14:31. He noted that other literary “seams” were evident in the chapters (e.g., 16:5, where Jesus says that no one has asked him where he is going, but in 13:36 this was Peter’s very question). Bultmann’s rearrangement solves this problem too.
(2) Other scholars suggest that 14:1–31 was the original discourse and that John has expanded it with his own theological insights in chapters 15–16. This may explain why, perhaps, there is so much duplicate material in chapters 14 and 16. If John did this, it is apparent that he was not a skilled storyteller or else he would have removed the problem in 14:31. Haenchen likes the idea that 14:31 came to John from Mark 14:42 (a verse John wanted to use) but found that 18:1 blocked its way. Its placement at 14:31 was an “emergency” insertion.26
(3) The oldest solution is to take the text at face value. Even if editorial theories are correct, someone thought that the text in its present form made sense, and interpreting it in its present context is the exegetical task. (a) One view suggests that while Jesus tells his disciples to get up and go, they linger longer in the room. Therefore despite 14:31, chapters 15–17 take place in the Upper Room. But if this is so, why does John include 14:31 at all?
(b) Morris (following Lightfoot and Dodd) argues that the words “let us go” do not refer to a change of setting, but to a change of topic (e.g., “let’s go on . . .”), a signal that Jesus is switching themes.27 But this seems implausible.
(c) Others suggest that we should take the text as it is: Jesus does leave the room at 14:31, so that the words spoken in chapters 15–17 take place en route to the Kidron Valley. Perhaps Jesus even enters the temple and sees the golden vines on the temple gates, which then inspire his discourse in chapter 15 (“I am the vine . . .”). Westcott once made an eloquent case that the words of chapters 15–17 find their best setting in the temple (where in chapter 17 Jesus gives a priestly prayer).28 If Jesus is in the temple following 14:31, the departure of 18:1 refers to his departing the temple as he climbs east into the Kidron Valley.
Bridging Contexts
THE APPLICATION OF chapter 14 is significant since for the first time in this Gospel, Jesus speaks in detail to his followers concerning their experience in the church following his departure. Of course throughout the Gospel we have been able to bridge themes that arose during Jesus’ ministry and apply them to the current setting. But here we have something different. This chapter is filled with promises addressed directly to the community of faith, not to the leadership of Jerusalem or to audiences in Galilee. Jesus is now anticipating that the community he has built, a community centered on his twelve apostles, will continue his work when he is gone.
A number of theological themes spring from this chapter, each of which could become a starting point for long excurses on numerous subjects (such as Jesus, the Spirit, eschatological hope, and salvation).29 Our first challenge is to distill them into units that will make sense for a clear presentation of their key themes. Three general areas of inquiry seem evident:
The departure of Jesus. Jesus speaks openly and honestly about his departure. Throughout the Synoptic Gospels and indeed here in John, Jesus has continued to say that he will die on the cross; this event will be a dramatic return to the Father. Jesus affirms what he has said throughout this Gospel: His death will not be a tragedy orchestrated either by men who desire to stop him or by Satan, who thinks that by using Judas like a pawn he has foiled God’s plan; but it will be a glorious return to God the Father. As we have heard elsewhere in John, this death should be described as Jesus’ “glorification.”
But here in chapter 14 Jesus tells us something about his aims: He is going to prepare a place (a “room”) for us. Immediately this means that we need to have a different perspective on the “dwellings” we possess in this world. Jesus has gone ahead of us, and there is now something ready for us. The implications of such a teaching are profound and timely. Our perspective on this world as well as on the eternal life God has prepared for us both come into view.
But if Jesus is indeed someone who can return to the Father and make a place for us, then this leads naturally to reflections about his identity and the access he can provide to these heavenly dwelling places. The flow of the discourse, including the successive questions of Peter, Thomas, Philip, and Judas, all point in this same direction. If heaven is Jesus’ destination and if this heavenly work is Jesus’ mandate, then who is Jesus? What is the nature of his divine power and influence? To what degree is God himself present in him? Such questions lead immediately to the next field in reflection.
The identity of Jesus. This chapter invites us to think deeply about the identity of Jesus and his relation to the Father. This is the direction of Philip’s thinking in 14:8. Discerning that Jesus is offering more than simply knowledge about God and the way to heaven, Philip pursues the subsequent reflection. Is Jesus substantially different than the rest of us? Or is he simply a wise leader who can show the way to heaven? We discover (and it came no doubt as some surprise to Philip and his fellow disciples) that fellowship with Jesus was a prerequisite for fellowship with the Father. To see Jesus is to see the Father.
Jesus is therefore not making a claim simply to possess some functional equivalence with the Father, saying in effect that he is doing what the Father does, so that to participate with him is to participate in the Father’s work. No, Jesus is saying more. Resident within his person is some aspect of the Father’s life, some feature of divine reality that sets him apart. It is not simply that Jesus is sent on a divine mission on behalf of the Father, but that the Father himself is on a divine mission in the life of his Son. In 14:10 Jesus explicitly says that the Father is living in him. This exploration of the Father and Jesus is a direct working out of the implications of the prologue of the gospel.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. . . . The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. (1:1, 14)
Later in the chapter a final step is taken. Jesus tells us about his obedience to God’s will, his fidelity to God’s word, and a union of profound intimacy between them. But then another feature is included. The Spirit is likewise a part of this union, and the Spirit’s indwelling in the believer will create a unity between God and the Christian that reflects the intimacy between Father and Son. While many of us in the church find discussions of the Trinity opaque and confusing, here in John 14 we cannot miss the basic elements of Trinitarian thought implicit in this description of God. Jesus is promising not simply to fill his disciples with the Spirit, but to come to the disciples himself and there take residence.
To sum up, the Father is resident in the life of the Son, and the Son will return to his disciples in the form of the Spirit. Jesus can say in 14:23 that both Father and Son together will indwell the disciple. These are profound contributions to our understanding of God.
Jesus’ return. The third area of thought concerns Jesus’ return to his followers. Throughout John 14 Jesus brings comfort to his disciples by reassuring them of his imminent return. But in our exegesis we had to wrestle with the timing of this return (vv. 1–3, 18, and 23). When Jesus says, “I will come again,” is he referring to his Second Coming? To Easter? Or to his coming in the Holy Spirit? We noted that Jesus makes all three affirmations. Thus any application of this subject of “Jesus’ coming” must explore each of these themes carefully.
(1) The promise of the Second Coming. The promise of the Second Coming appears throughout the Johannine literature both explicitly (21:22; 1 John 4:17) and implicitly (when Jesus refers to the resurrection on the last day, John 6:54; 11:24–27). We can also find this theme in the Synoptic Gospels, which describe Jesus’ “appearing” (Gk. parousia) to his followers at the end of time (Matt. 24:3, 27, 37–44; Luke 17:26–35). Any treatment of John 14 must embrace some sense of Jesus’ eschatological vision for his disciples. Their comfort will not simply be found in a newfound strength to endure the things of the world (a strength found in the Spirit). Jesus also says that some day he will “come again” and take us to himself (14:3).
(2) Jesus’ death. The most pressing immediate concern for the disciples is the threat of death that Jesus describes so clearly. Here he says confidently that he will return “before long” so that they can see him. The appearance of Jesus in the Upper Room following the cross is one of the most important events in Christian history. Jesus’ return from an empty grave is the bedrock of early Christian testimony. It is found not only in the Synoptic Gospels (Matt. 28:1–10; Mark 16:1–8; Luke 24:1–9; cf. John 20:1–18) but also in Paul in virtually a creedal form (1 Cor. 15:1–6). The promise of Jesus’ coming at the end of time took faith. The promise of Jesus’ coming in the Spirit may have seemed ambiguous and open to interpretation. But here in this promise, Jesus provides objective, concrete proof that validates his identity and power. Any attempt to defend the divine power of Jesus Christ today does well if it begins here.
(3) The Holy Spirit. The climax of the chapter describes the “coming” of Jesus in the Holy Spirit. As we saw in the Original Meaning section, the “rooms” of heaven in 14:2 parallel the “home” built by the Son and Father in the disciple’s life (14:23). In other words, the Christian experience of the Holy Spirit cannot be viewed apart from an experience of Jesus. In theological jargon, our pneumatology (doctrine of the Spirit) must have a Christological basis. To experience the Spirit is to experience Jesus. While this may seem to be of peripheral value, its theological ramifications are profound, and they are in desperate need of clarity in the church today.
This experience of the Spirit promised by Jesus also points to benefits that are truly astounding. Believers will sustain the miraculous works of Jesus (14:12), they will have intimacy with God in prayer (14:13–14), and they will recall God’s word with conviction (14:25; 1 John 2:22–27)—all with the aid of the Spirit. A brief perusal of the book of Acts shows that this is exactly the profile of the earliest Christians, and it is safe to assume that this must have been the experience of the believers in John’s church. Christians were reproducing not merely the work of Jesus; they were continuing the presence of Jesus in the world. Perhaps we could put it this way: As the Son incarnated the Father’s presence in the world, so now the Spirit brings the Son’s presence into the world through the life of the believer.
These three themes have sweeping importance for the church today. We live in an age that is eager for spiritual experiences. John 14 provides us with guidance on how to interpret and understand them.
Contemporary Significance
IN THE CONTEMPORARY Significance section of John 1:18–51, I referred to the testing of biblical and theological literacy we at Wheaton College have done on the incoming freshmen. We as professors were delighted by our incoming students’ zeal for the Lord but were surprised at their illiteracy about the stories of the Bible and the classic doctrines of the Christian faith. I mention this here again because as I think about the contemporary significance of John 14, I sense the temptation to pursue the promises of this chapter without examining the theological structures that undergird them.
We live in an age that is eager for experience. Sermons are often measured by the “emotional work” that can be done in twenty minutes. The comment “that was a great service” can easily refer to the worship band. Preaching themes are often filtered through therapeutic categories, and for many Christians, the final validity of the Christian walk is not what I believe (a cognitive category) or how I live (a moral imperative) but what I have experienced. All three are an essential part of the Christian life. John 14 invites us to have profound experiences with Christ-in-Spirit, but it also instructs us in how to think rightly about Jesus and the Spirit.
The departure of Jesus. John 14:1 is often used at a funeral. “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me.” In one respect this is not a precise use of 14:1–2 since Jesus is actually saying that the solution to the disciples’ despair will be found in his dramatic second coming.30 But there is another sense in which it is appropriate. Jesus expects his followers to have a confidence in his power that is equal to their confidence in God. His departure is not simply an exodus from humanity, it is a continuation of his work on behalf of humanity. Jesus then has a postresurrection ministry and authority. He will be glorified above all creation and seated on God’s right hand (Rom. 8:34; Heb. 1:3; 10:12). From this position he serves on our behalf. “I am going there to prepare a place for you” is a promise that his work will continue until we are united with him for eternity in heaven.
It is valuable to look carefully at the words of 14:2. The passage does not mean that these rooms need to be built, for the Father’s house has these rooms already (14:2a). Rather, it is in Jesus’ returning to the Father (a departure through the cross) that the way to these rooms will be constructed. And it is in his arrival there that the place will be prepared completely for us. Our experience of coming to this place will be one of overwhelming gratefulness to God’s grace for bringing us there. We will not take pride in any private residence, but will discover that this residing is a life that is invited into the residence, the presence, the “rooms” of Jesus himself. Prepared rooms are rooms where Jesus lives, which are the places he desires us to enter.
As noted above, the word translated “rooms” does not refer to the quality of the place Jesus is preparing (as in the KJV, “mansions”). The concern on the hearts of the disciples is their loss of Jesus’ fellowship. The “room” in Greek refers to an abode, a place of residence, a place “with your name on it.” Jesus is saying to them (and to us) that heaven is awaiting our arrival. The experience of heaven will not be merely one of bliss, but it will be one of fellowship when Jesus renews his presence with us.
Possessing such an anticipation for heaven builds in us what I call an eternal vantage point. I live in a world that continually offers me temporal securities and comforts, a world that keeps my eye on the near horizon of the present, that denies the limitations of my own mortality. My “life of work” aims not simply to make a contribution to my career, but to provide a means of security in the world: a home, a stable income, an investment scheme, a retirement program. While Jesus is clear that these securities are foolish and unreliable (Matt. 6:19–20; Luke 12:13–21), here he offers a positive incentive. Our true home, our complete security has already been built for us by him in heaven. Once we embrace the significance of this notion, our attitudes toward this world completely change.
Perhaps this is why some of the most creative and thoughtful conversations I have ever had have been with the senior members of my church. These are men and women in their late seventies and eighties who are firm in their faith and aware—very aware—that their hope rests in the Lord and nowhere else. John 14:1–3 are key verses for them. They possess this “eternal vantage,” and when I ask them to think about the many years of their life, they always say that they wish they had this eternal perspective when they were younger. “I would have spent more time giving and less time acquiring,” one friend told me. This is an eternal perspective that has put a check on our investment in earthly rooms.
Jesus and the Father. I believe that John’s deepest desire is for us to see that Jesus is the revealer of God and in this revelation, to find life. This is not the same as saying that Jesus had wisdom that unveiled the inner workings of God (although this is true). Nor is it the same as saying that Jesus lived a life so attuned to God that simply by imitating him, we might know God (although this is true too). Jesus does not show us the way to the Father; rather, Jesus is the way to the Father. We have to pause to let the nuance of this idea settle in.
In a world of religious pluralism, anyone making an exclusive truth claim will find opponents who will object not necessarily to the religious system offered, but to the exclusivity of any such claim. In general our age views all religious systems as offering variations on the same theme. Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Christianity, Taoism—all religious systems possess historical, cultural accretions that must be removed as dispensable byproducts, but essentially they point the way to God through principles of belief (the oneness and goodness of God) and life (charity and love). But to stand in one of these traditions and affirm that there is something ultimate, something unrepeatable, something unparalleled is offensive to the reasoning of our day.
But this is precisely the truth claim we have in Christianity. Jesus does not merely point the way, he is the Way. Jesus does not just teach us truth, he is the Truth. He does not represent one avenue to life, he is the Life. This is an exclusive claim that cannot be compromised. In a word, the human quest for God ends in Jesus Christ. There are those who with Philip might say, “I wish God would just show himself! This would end the spiritually debilitating ambiguity of life.” To such people the answer is: God has shown himself; God has spoken—in Jesus.31 Even Bultmann in his critical study of John’s Gospel saw this same absolute claim in John 14:
The implication behind the reproachful question [of Philip] is that all fellowship with Jesus loses its significance unless he is recognized as the one whose sole intention is to reveal God, and not to be anything for himself; but it also implies that the possibility of seeing God is inherent in the fellowship with Jesus. What need is there for anything further?32
The theological idea that anchors this belief—and this is the important point—is that God himself was in Christ. The Word was not a creature (as we are). There was not a time “when he did not exist,” and so he shares in the same substance (or essence or being) as God himself. Of course, I am using the language of the first council of the church (Nicea, A.D. 325), but I argue that it is not an anachronism to press this language back into John. It was the image of Jesus given in John (and elsewhere in the New Testament) that presented the Christological dilemma that Nicea tried to articulate.33 “He who has seen me has seen the Father.” Throughout the chapter Jesus is pictured as enjoying an intimate unity with the Father (14:10, 20, 21, 23)—a unity not just of purpose, but of “essence.”
Therefore the exclusive claim of Christianity about Christ is not centered on our belief that Jesus was right about God. It is centered on our claim that God was fully present in Christ to reconcile the world to himself (2 Cor. 5:18). It is the theological claim about Jesus that makes the spiritual claims of Jesus potent. Jesus’ words are right because those words are God’s words (14:10b). Jesus “way” is not superior because it promotes a higher ethic or because it champions values that resonate with our spiritual sensitivities. Jesus’ way is true because in him we find God drawing us to himself.
A young woman told me recently that for her Christianity was true—Jesus was true—because she had experienced him as true in her heart. I asked what would happen if these feelings of certainty went away. She admitted quietly, “I guess I would not be very sure about God if that happened.” The validity of spiritual truth cannot be found entirely in spiritual experience. There is an objective reality here (“You have seen the Father!”). John knows this well, and as he writes his first letter, he affirms again and again that the basis of our faith is “that which was from the beginning,” “that which we have heard . . . seen . . . looked at . . . touched” (1 John 1:1; 2:7, 13, 14, 24; 3:8, 11; 2 John 1:5, 6). The objective historical reality of Christ supplies our confidence in our knowledge of the truth and the certainty of our spiritual pursuits.
Our survey of evangelical college students has a parallel in the similar surveys of David Wells at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary.34 Young seminarians reflect the same reluctance to embrace absolute theological truth claims. Many of us in the church need to pause and take notice of the results. The exclusive and absolute claim of Christ anchored in an incarnational theology may be slipping from evangelical thinking. Nothing could be further from the truth in John’s mind in John 14.
Jesus is coming. If John 14 has an organizing idea, it may be found in 14:18: “I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you.” Throughout the chapter Jesus is assuring his followers that whatever may occur in their experience in the world, they will never be on their own. They will not be left desolate. He will continue to shepherd them and protect them. Of course, the immediate occasion for their worry is the threat of Jesus’ arrest and death, which he is willing to accept as God’s will. But threaded throughout the discourse, Jesus says, in effect, “I will come again,” in three different contexts (14:1–3, 14:18, and 14:23).
(1) The Second Coming. Many interpreters agree that when Jesus refers to his return in 14:1–3, he is referring to the Second Coming.35 That is, these verses fit with the descriptions in the Synoptic Gospels describing the triumphant return of Jesus at the end of time. It is significant that in 14:3 Jesus does not simply promise his return, but adds, “I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am” (italics added). Jesus’ return will encompass a reunion with his disciples and a departure that escorts them to another place, where Jesus is.
Older conservative writers with an interest in dispensational eschatology have suggested that 14:1–3 may refer to the Rapture, the dramatic end-time removal of the church described by Paul (1 Thess. 4:12–18; 2 Thess. 2:1; cf. 1 Cor. 15:23).36 Curiously, few (if any) evangelical commentators note this.37 While 14:3 does not provide any detail, it does dovetail with Paul in one respect: When Jesus returns, the rescue of his followers will be one of his first aims. The description of eschatological “removal” in Luke 17:34–35 even uses the same verb (and tense) as in John 14:3 (“[I will] take you”).38
For many of us, the notion of the Second Coming has evolved from being a longed-for experience and has instead become a doctrine we defend and teach.39 In the 1960s and 1970s this hope flamed brightly. In 1978 American newspaper editors were asked by The People’s Almanac to consider what would be the most sensational headline they could write. “Jesus Returns to Earth” was their answer.40 One wonders if this answer would be the same today.
My experience among young people in their twenties is that they hold a sense of historical despair equal to any in the 1960s: War, population, environmental crises, infectious disease, and moral decline are some of the items they will check off quickly. Oddly, when asked to describe their hope in this apparent “mess,” the “blessed hope” of the Second Coming rarely comes to view. Jesus’ promise is that he will come, that he will return to save his church and rescue his followers. This teaching needs to be revitalized in the church today.
(2) The empty tomb. Jesus’ promise to return from the grave is another central belief for the church. Paul could not be more firm when he writes, “If there is no resurrection of the dead, then not even Christ has been raised. And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith” (1 Cor. 15:13–14). In John 14:18ff. Jesus’ resurrection is not merely a display of his divine power over death, but it is motivated by his interest in coming to his followers and aiding them. While the resurrection is a step in Jesus’ glorification and return to the Father, it also provides an opportunity for him to meet with his disciples, encourage them, and equip them. Disciples today need to have a confident grasp of the meaning of this return. In virtually every sermon in the book of Acts, Jesus’ return from the grave lies at the center (e.g., Acts 2:24, 32; 3:7, 15; 4:10; 5:30; 7:37; 10:40; 13:22, 30, 33–34, 37; 17:31; 26:8).
(3) The Holy Spirit. The chief thrust of Jesus’ teaching lies here. The “coming of Jesus” will also be experienced in the “coming” of the Spirit (14:23). Yet in a manner similar to the other themes we have explored, there are crucial theological issues that affect our experience. Jesus promises that we will receive the Holy Spirit (14:16) and then goes on to promise that he and the Father will indwell his followers (14:23). What are the implications of these thoughts?
(a) We have seen that God himself was in Christ restoring and loving the world. Christ was not a courier sent on a mission to change God’s mind; Christ came from the Father to express God’s mind. Therefore the divinity of Jesus (the ontological unity of Christ and the Father) cannot be compromised. Now in a parallel manner, we see that the Spirit is not an independent agent sent on a mission to equip and inspire us. The Holy Spirit is God’s Spirit; the Holy Spirit ushers to us the presence of Father and Son to indwell us and to share fellowship with us. Hence, as God was at work on the cross in Christ to save us, so now God is at work in the Spirit to transform us. I cannot underscore sufficiently how important this is. God is on our side. He is at work renewing us and loving us. This is the gospel.
(b) John 14 has been in one of the most difficult controversies in church history, one that in 1054 split the Eastern Orthodox Church from the Western Roman Church. Here we can only skim its surface. In a word, does the Spirit come from the Father, or does it come from the Father and the Son together? In John 14:16, 26 Jesus says that the Father will send the Spirit. In 15:26; 16:7–8 Jesus says that he will send the Spirit. Which is it? The East argued it was the Father alone; the West argued that it must be the Father and the Son (and so a pope in Rome changed the Nicene Creed and was promptly denounced by Orthodox bishops).41
Rather than an arcane theological squabble, much was (and is) at stake. The East preferred to see the Spirit as an independent person, coming directly from the Father. As Irenaeus put it, the Son and the Spirit are the two separate hands of God at work.42 But this distinction came at the expense of showing how the Father, Son, and Spirit were unified and how the Son plays an indispensable role in the Spirit’s work. Where has this led? According to some, it can inspire a “Christless mysticism,” in which the Spirit is an inspiration apart from Jesus.43 It can also lead to more radical theologies that seek a spirituality apart from Jesus, a spirituality that seeks to unite with other world religions. It is also evident today in some charismatic/Pentecostal theologies, in which the Spirit is distinguished from Jesus as a subsequent experience—theologies that promote inspiration and illumination quite apart from the Jesus of history.44
The West (going back to Augustine) objected to this view. The Father begets the Son and together the Son and the Father breathe out the Holy Spirit. In this, the Father wins the priority, but still, the Son cannot be separated from the Spirit. The Father and the Son are one—and so the Spirit cannot glorify the one without the other. This means that one cannot claim to have the Spirit without having the Son. One does not have a complete Christian experience if he or she embraces the Son and has not had a life-transforming experience in the Spirit. This theological squabble means everything for how we understand, experience, and interpret the Spirit. How deeply is the Spirit connected to the person of Jesus?
But there is perhaps an easy way to reconcile this tension on the origins of the Spirit. In Great Britain, there is a train called the Flying Scotsman, which runs between Edinburgh, Scotland, and King’s Cross Station, London. It also passes through a number of other English cities. In watching this famous train arrive at King’s Cross, you could say “The Flying Scotsman has just come from Edinburgh,” or you could say “This train has come from Edinburgh and York,” or “This train has come from Edinburgh through York.” All three statements are true. 45
John 14 urges us to see the Spirit as intimately tied to Jesus. The Spirit is another Paraclete, continuing the work of Jesus (14:16). The Spirit is dependent completely on Jesus’ glorification before he can come (7:37–39; 16:7). Even each of the numerous tasks of the Spirit as outlined in John 14–16 have direct parallels in the life of Jesus in the Gospel.46 As the disciples come to the Upper Room on Easter day, it is the breath of Jesus that conveys to them the Holy Spirit (20:22), indicating that this Spirit is his Spirit indwelling them.
The unity of Jesus and the Spirit means that we should not talk about receiving Jesus without incorporating some notion of receiving the Spirit. To receive Jesus, to “have Jesus in your heart,” is to experience the Spirit dwelling within. And charismatics likewise should not promote a “two-stage” doctrine that in some manner offers the Spirit as something subsequent to Jesus. The work of the Spirit-Paraclete is to usher to our hearts the ongoing life and presence of Jesus-in-Spirit.
To have this Spirit is to have the catalogue of gifts listed in this chapter. Powerful works (14:12), effective prayer (14:13), and the peace of God (14:27) all deserve careful application today. But this does not mean that the work of the modern minister will exceed the work of Jesus. As remarkable as this thought sounds, such a view is often heard among certain African Pentecostal leaders, who claim supernatural power superior to Christ. This is not Jesus’ point. It is the distribution of his powers to the wider world that facilitates a remarkable outpouring of mighty works (promised in 14:12).
A quick glance at the church in Acts shows that the earliest Christians took these promises to heart and experienced these gifts as they lived in the power of the Spirit. But among these John directly connects the coming of the Spirit with the preservation of Jesus’ word (14:25–26). Jesus says that the Spirit “will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.” Does this refer to the historical reminiscences of the apostles as they protected and recorded the words of Jesus? Did John experience this as he wrote his Gospel? Does this refer to the Spirit’s work in providing us with the inspired Scriptures we treasure today? Or does this refer to the inner illumination of the Spirit as we work within God’s Word, delving deeply into its meaning?
No doubt John would say “yes” to each of these. The Spirit in 14:25–26 is a conserving, recalling power in the church. As Jesus faithfully spoke the words given to him by the Father, the Spirit faithfully recalls Jesus’ words, never deviating from the things he taught. New ideas, therefore, new spiritual “insights” must always be tested against the historic revelation we have in the Gospels (cf. 1 John 2:22–27).