You Know the Way

I love exploring new cities. Although Minneapolis isn't a new city for me (I have been there for the Festival of Homiletics many times, and I recommend this event highly, https://festivalofhomiletics.com/why-foh/), I love walking for miles through the "skyway system," building to building without ever going outside and at least two stories up. The views are interesting, and I got lost only once. But not for long.

Minneapolis has impressive art and architecture, and a fascinating cultural mix in this former Norwegian Lutheran bastion. Minneapolis has sports enthusiasm that rivals any city. Plus, I have spent hours sitting in churches in the center of Minneapolis and could give a review on the comfort levels of the pew padding.

While wandering around looking for the next church I was to attend, I ran across a street sign that made me stop in my tracks. That, of course meant that people behind me had to adjust their pace as well. What was the surprising sign, the one that led to the title of this piece? There on a post alongside the downtown street was a sign that read, "Bus Doesn't Stop Here."

Think about that for a moment. All over the place are signs saying, “Bus Stop.” That makes some sense, doesn't it? That's what we expect. Isn't it? But then there it was, in black and white, posted on a pole beside a busy road in the center of Minneapolis: “Bus Doesn't Stop Here.”

I tried to imagine what the need was for such a sign. Was there a regular occurrence of people standing at that spot waiting in vain for a bus that wasn't going to come? Was there a time when the bus did stop there and now they were letting us all know that it wasn't stopping there anymore? Or was it just an arbitrary action by a bored bureaucrat who wanted to make a statement? Someone's idea of a joke, perhaps. Trying to bring a smile to the busy downtowners who were hurrying to jobs and errands and back again. 

Or maybe they were deadly serious. Maybe this was only the first of the signs to come. Anywhere there was a bus-sized space on the road, they were going to put up a sign—just in case there was some doubt. They were trying to draw the lines clearly: This is a bus stopping place. This is not a bus stopping place. They wanted certainty and clarity on where the lines were drawn. 

My mind began to reel at the sheer number of signs that would be necessary for such an endeavor. To mark every place where the bus didn't stop seemed a monumental task. It would keep the sign makers in business for years, if not forever. It seemed an exercise in futility. Why not concentrate on telling us where the bus did stop and not worry about where it didn't.

Then it occurred to me that this is some people's view of the church. We need to put up signs so that people know where we won't go, what we won't do, or what we won't allow. For many people, often people on the outside, our faith is a "no" faith. We want to make very clear what the boundaries are and what is outside the lines. So, we put up the "bus doesn't stop here" signs to make sure everyone is clear on what we consider wrong, or bad, or evil.

Now, you might argue that if we aren't clear about what is wrong, or bad, or evil, then pretty soon people will begin to assume that nothing is. And then we'll be the church of anything goes, which is pretty much what the culture has become. So, no wonder we are becoming irrelevant. It might explain why some of the more conservative churches seem to be growing, because people want to be clear where the boundaries are. If we are too vague on that, then no one wants to bother. So, draw those lines; put up the signs; make sure people know where the bus doesn't stop. That's what people want.

Or is it? Do people really want to know what is bad, what is evil, where the bus won't stop? Or do they want to know where it does stop? Maybe what draws people to those churches is not negativity, but certainty. And since the only certainty in town is negative, they'll go with that. But what if we offered an alternative? What if we were certain too? But certain of where the bus stopped, not where it doesn’t. Or better yet, what if we were certain about where it was going? Not just in an otherworldly way, but in a “this is what life is about” way. What if instead of telling folks what is wrong with their lives, we spend our time talking about what a good life consists of?

That's what I think Jesus came to do. That's what I hear in our passage for this week. Most of the time, we think the passage is about heaven. And it is. But what if it is more than that? What if it is about now and not just someday? 

Thomas said to him, "Lord, we do not 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 will know my Father also (John 14:5-6 NRSV).

I know. This is a funeral text. This is the reminder that there is a place to go when we are done with this world. But still. Take another look. Might the many dwelling places be also right now and right here instead of just when we all get to heaven? "The one who believes in me will also do the works that I do" (14:12).Believing and doing are tasks for this life, aren't they? 

If we are doing the works that he did, then we are dwelling in his house, right? Now, today, not someday. The invitation is to get on the bus and ride with Christ. To do this, we need to know where the bus does stop. We don't really need to occupy ourselves with where it doesn't stop. Or it ought not be what defines us. Instead, let’s find how to be obedient to Christ's will. Let’s find how to do greater works based on our belief of what is possible, rather than simply being concerned about what is not. “You know the way,” says Jesus. You know the way to live. You know the way to the kin-dom, a place of relationship and belonging. You know the way to the kingdom, a place of reimagining how human community might work, what values we might live by, what priorities we might embrace. You know the way.

It seems to me that one of the saddest moments of our lives would be to hear Jesus say, "Have I been with you all this time, and you still don't know me?" Let's get to know him by knowing what he is for and what he is about. Let's find out where the bus does stop. And then get on board.

Rev. Dr. Derek Weber, Director of Preaching Ministries, served churches in Indiana, Arkansas, and the British Methodist Church. His PhD in preaching and media is from the University of Edinburgh. He has taught preaching in seminary and conference settings for more than twenty years.