Let not your heart be troubled; ye believe on God, believe also on me.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
In my Father's house there are many abodes; were it not so, I had told you for I go to prepare you a place;
Jesus is about to leave, and His followers had hoped for thrones and crowns on earth. Instead He speaks of His Father's house, and of a place there for them.
The stress falls on whose house it is.
"In My Father's house are many mansions … I go to prepare a place for you." Notice this: it was in His Father's house — the place He had as Son, where He was at home. There He was going to prepare my place. That is unspeakable blessing! It was a comfort, a joy, to have Christ with them in the world, but that was passing. Think what the home of such a heart as His must be! There all His divine affections would flow out. He is the divine Son, and yet a Man. And this is the place where He is going to take us.
The verse here reads "many rooms." Older translations say "mansions," and that word has drifted.
In modern English, the word "mansions" suggests size and ornate display. But in the English of 1611 the word meant only what the original language conveys: "resting-places," "abodes" or "dwellings." The word appears only once more in the New Testament, in verse 23 of this same chapter, and there it is translated "abode." "Many" does not point to a variety of conditions. It points to plenty of room. There would be room not only for the Lord, but room for all of them too. That house will never be overcrowded, as the inn at Bethlehem was at His first coming.
The word "abodes" carries two things: a home no one ever leaves, and room enough.
Let us note that the word "mansions" is really "abodes" — a home which, once reached, will never again be left. There we shall stay. On earth we have "no lasting city." We are pilgrims and strangers here. Our lasting home is in the Father's house. What is more, in the Father's house there are "many" abodes. On earth there was no room for Christ, and little room for those who are Christ's. But in the Father's house there is room for all who are Christ's — the great and the small.
This is the plainest sentence in the verse, and it is a pledge of honesty. He had asked them to leave everything and follow Him; He will not let them build on an illusion.
These men had trusted that He would redeem Israel... The Father's house had never entered their earth-bound minds, but this is what He talks to them about, not thrones and crowns... To remove all question from their minds He says, "if it were not so I would have told you." Suppose I had nothing better for you than the earth can give, nothing better than your highest expectations. Then I would have told you. I would not have asked you to follow Me and then deceived and disappointed you.
The same honesty, one writer argues, runs in the other direction too:
"In My Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you," He said; and it is equally true that if there had been no hell to dread and avoid, He would have told us. He has told us in definite terms about both heaven and hell, and everyone who takes His words seriously is wise.
The preparing is not work done on the disciples. It is work done on the place.
A Man entered heaven, as a result of redemption, and so the place was prepared for them. It was not a question of preparing them for the place (that is the subject of chapter 13), but of preparing the place for them. The presence of their Forerunner, where He was going, accomplished it... The entrance of Christ left nothing to be done for them to enter; only those who will share the inheritance with Him still have to be gathered.
That entrance created something that had never existed:
Before He went there, the place had no existence. It was a new thing for man to be in heaven. Angels might have been there as servants, but men were to be there as sons... And that place is now prepared. It is not being prepared. The entrance of Christ, as man before the Father's face, has prepared it. He is there for us; not for Himself.
The place matters because of who is there.
"I go to prepare a place for you" — He Himself is the home-link, so close and precious, between our hearts and the place... So Scripture never speaks of our going to heaven, but of our going to Christ. The person makes the place, even in natural things; how much more in divine things!
- House — the promise names a home: the Father's house, where Christ is at home as Son.
- Rooms — "mansions" means resting-places. "Many" means room enough for all, not ranks or grades.
- Reassurance — He will never leave His followers hoping for something that does not exist. He would have told them.
- Preparation — Christ prepared the place by entering heaven as Man after redemption. Chapter 13 shows Him preparing us; here He prepares the place.
- Person — a Person makes the place. So Scripture speaks of going to Christ, not of going to heaven.
and if I go and shall prepare you a place, I am coming again and shall receive you to myself, that where I am ye also may be.
These words come the night before the cross, and the disciples are afraid: their Master is leaving. His answer is a promise, and it raises three questions: what place is He preparing, what return does He mean, and what does He promise us at the end?
What makes the place ready is that Christ Himself has gone in as a man, ahead of us.
He says, "I go to prepare a place for you." It was the eternal thought of the Father that man should be in that place. But Christ had to go in first as our Forerunner. His entrance prepared the place. He entered as Man into the presence of the Father, in the Father's house. He would have us know that that place is ours.
The house He speaks of is His own home.
Notice, it was in His Father's house, the place that He had as Son where He was at home — there He was going to prepare my place. That is unspeakable blessing! It was a comfort, a joy to have Christ with them in the world, but that was only along the way. He was going to prepare a place where He was at home. Think what the home of such a heart as His must be!
Some have read the promise as a poetic way of speaking about dying, or about a historical event. Commentators reject those readings.
It is clear that He did not mean death, nor the destruction of Jerusalem, nor the end of the world. He who was going away promised to come again. If the departure of Jesus was real and personal, the return would be just as real and personal. He does not come to reign over them in their place. He comes to take them to His place, so that He and they may be happy together in heaven.
Look closely at the wording. (Older translations read "receive you to Myself"; the ESV has "will take you to myself".)
"I will come again, and receive you to Myself." This is the language of affection. He does not say, I will send for you. No, that would not satisfy the heart — "I will come." He would not be content without having them where He is, and without coming to fetch them.
That choice shows what kind of Person is coming.
Had we known Him only as a great ruler, splendid in His glory, it would have been fitting for Him to send some noble servant to lead us into His throne room. But it is not glory, or dignity, or splendour of that sort that He shows us here. It is love — yearning, tender love that cannot wait for someone to bring us, and will not send another for us, but must come itself.
Look at what He does not name.
Notice, it is the Person here again. It is not "heaven," or "glory," but "to Myself." What joy there is in that! "That where I am you may be also."
The phrase "where I am" carries a settled meaning across this Gospel.
He went there to prepare a place where we can be and see the Father in Him. For this He had to enter the Father's house as a human being. That is what the Father's house is all about. The expression "where I am" occurs five times in this Gospel and each time it refers to the Father's house (7:34, 36; 12:26; 14:3; 17:24).
The last clause states a purpose — and the purpose is mutual.
The promise goes on, "that where I am you may be also." This tells us that the need of our hearts is His own need too. Not only for our joy but for His, we must be where He is. And that is the heaven of the Christian's hope. People have imagined a heaven of their own. It suits them, no doubt, but it does not suit at all what Christ desires for us.
Commentators distinguish two sides of the Lord's return. This verse belongs to the first.
One class of passages is found only in the New Testament. These refer to the coming of the Lord for His saints: John 14:3; Philippians 3:20; 1 Thessalonians 4:15-17; 1 Corinthians 15:23. Another set of texts is common to both Testaments. These teach just as plainly the coming with the saints: Jude 14; Zechariah 14:5; Colossians 3:4; Revelation 19:11-14.
- He goes — Christ prepared the place by entering the Father's house as a man, our Forerunner; His entrance makes that place ours.
- He comes — not a message, not a servant, not death: a real, personal return by the One who really left.
- He receives — the promise ends not in a location but in "Myself"; the destination is a Person.
- He wants us — being where He is meets His own heart's desire, not only ours.
- He gathers — this is His coming for His own, distinct from His later coming with them.
And ye know where I go, and ye know the way.
Jesus has just told His disciples that He is leaving to prepare a place for them in His Father's house. Now He tells them they already know both the destination and the road. That raises two questions: where was He going, and how could men who had never been there know the way?
(The writers below use an older translation: "Where I go you know, and the way you know.")
Where was He going? The answer is not a place on any map:
"Where I go you know," the Lord says, pointing it out even more definitely. He was not going into the universe, nor to any place that earth was part of. His hour had come to leave this world and go to the Father. But how did they know the place so well, and the way, despite Thomas? Because it was the Father's presence — a far more definite thing to me than the word "heaven." He was the way to the Father, just as the Father was revealed in Him. So they knew the Father's house.
How could they know a place they had never seen? Thomas said they could not:
Thomas contradicts this outright: "Lord, we do not know where You are going, and how can we know the way?" But Thomas was badly mistaken. They knew where He was going by knowing Himself. In Him they had learned everything that gave character to the place. If I wanted to know your house I might get to know it without knowing much about you, but in the things of God it is otherwise. We know divine things by knowing divine Persons. The way to get to know the place is to get to know the Person who is in the place.
So what makes that house worth going to?
I am going to the Father's house, and you shall be there too. And what makes the blessedness of the Father's house? The Father being there, and brothers and sisters there. We do not think about the place or the state in connection with the Father's house, though there are these as well. The great thing to our hearts is the Person there — the object in the house — the Father. No one can go to the Father "but by Me." If I know the Father, I know where I am going. It is He who makes it a home to me.
They had been with Jesus a long time, and Philip still wanted to know the Father:
Philip thought that if only he knew the Father, he could know the Father's house. Jesus says, "Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know Me, Philip? Whoever has seen Me has seen the Father." Every trait of the blessedness of the Father's house shone out in the Person and ways of the Son here below. The heart that knows the Son knows the Father too, even the feeblest baby. It is no matter of attainment; the Lord Jesus would start us with it.
The Lord credits them with knowledge they had not yet felt:
God always treats us according to what He has really given us, treating us as though we had realised it all. So in John the Lord says, "And where I go you know, and the way you know." They did know HIM who was truly the way to the Father. Yet Thomas objected, "We do not know the way," because they had never realised it.
One writer names the cause: "Then, as always, overlooking His glorious Person is what left them bewildered." (William Kelly)
Thomas's mistake carries a lesson about how to handle words of Christ we cannot yet follow:
What Thomas should have done was not to sit in judgment on the words of his Master. He was only trading words with the Lord. Instead of saying what he did, he should have asked, "Well, Lord, and what next?" and so taken the place of a learner. It makes a wonderful difference which place we take. Are we receivers from Him, or judges of what He says?
- Person, not place. We know divine things by knowing divine Persons. Know the One who is there, and you know the place.
- Person as destination. He was going to the Father's presence, not to any place that earth is part of. The Father makes that house a home.
- Person seen already. Every trait of that house shone out in the ways of the Son in front of them. To know the Son was to know the Father.
- Person overlooked. They lost sight of who He was. They had the knowledge, but had never realised it.
- Person to be trusted. Thomas judged his Master's words instead of asking, "Well, Lord, and what next?" — the difference between a receiver and a critic.
Thomas says to him, Lord, we know not where thou goest, and how can we know the way?
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Jesus says to him, I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father unless by me.
Thomas had just admitted he did not know where his Master was going, so he could not know the road either. The answer he received was not a set of directions but a Person — and with it a claim that shuts out every other route to God.
Thomas assumed that knowing a destination meant knowing facts about it. One writer points out that he already had what he said he lacked, because he had the Lord Himself:
But Thomas was mistaken, for they knew where He was going by knowing Him. In Him they had learned everything that gave character to the place. If I wanted to know your house, I could get to know it without knowing much about you. But in the things of God it is different. We know divine things by knowing divine Persons. The way to become acquainted with the place is to become acquainted with the Person who is in the place.
A road only matters where people are lost. One commentator traces the need back to the moment sin entered. Sin turned the world into ground with no path:
A way is a great gift, especially through a wilderness which by its nature has no way. Eden, or unfallen creation, had no way either; but then it needed none... But sin came in, and death with it, the forerunner of judgment. Everything was changed into a wilderness. Men wandered in every direction, all of them away from God and hopelessly wrong. It became a wilderness-world, an empty place with no road... Now there is a road, for Christ is the Way. He is the only sure Way for the worst of straying sinners. He is the open way for the lost, whom He came to seek and to save.
To be the truth is to be more than a truthful teacher. The same writer explains that Christ shows two things at once: God's own nature, and the true pattern of man:
Further, He is the Truth, the full expression of everyone and of everything as they are. He tells us in His own Person what God is; He shows us the Father, being Himself the Son. But He, not Adam, shows us man. Adam, no doubt, shows us falling or fallen man; Christ alone is man according to God... Moreover, as He shows us holiness and righteousness, so also He brings out sin in its true colours.
The three titles are not a list of equals thrown together. One commentator shows how each title answers a new problem. The last one gives man the power to receive the first two:
The Lord shows Thomas his mistake. He assures him that He Himself was the Way, and that only through Him could anyone come to God. And not only that; He was also the Truth — the revelation of God. But man was dead and could not receive the truth. So He was the Life as well, the life men needed in order to receive it. Everything man needed was found in Him.
The verse names a destination, and it is a Person, not simply heaven. This connects the answer back to the Father's house spoken of a few verses earlier:
We will notice first the beginning of it all, the way to the Father... No way but through Him — through His blood — the new and living way now opened for us into the holiest of all, the very presence of God. This links back to verses 1 to 3. Those who have access to the Father through Him also have entrance to the Father's house.
The little word "the" carries the weight of the whole verse. One writer presses each title in turn to show what the wording rules out:
"No one comes to the Father except through Me," said the Son of God. "I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life." This shuts out every effort of man apart from the Son. It shuts out man even at his very best. The Son is the Way, not simply a way! The Son is the Truth, not simply a portion of it! The Son is the Life, not simply a partial display of it.
That claim has always drawn fire. Another writer warns against softening it to escape the shame:
The Christian faith, and the gospel that proclaims it, still make this exclusive claim today. You can see it in scriptures such as John 6:68; John 14:6; Acts 4:12; Galatians 1:8-9. Some men today go to the Buddhist or the follower of Confucius and admit that their religions are ways to God. They claim only that "Christianity" offers a better way. In doing so they bring themselves close to the curse the apostle pronounces in Galatians 1:8, and perhaps under it. At the same time they escape the shame that the gospel brings. It is this exclusive claim, built into the gospel, which provokes the opposition.
- Way. Sin turned the world into a wilderness with no road; Christ is the road back, and the only sure one for the most straying of sinners.
- Truth. He shows everything as it truly is — what God is, what man was meant to be, and what sin is.
- Life. Man was dead and could not receive the truth, so Christ gives the Life that makes receiving possible.
- Father. The destination is a Person, not a place. Those who reach the Father through His blood also enter the Father's house.
- Only. He is not a way, a portion of truth, or a partial life — and that exclusive claim is exactly what the world resists.
If ye had known me, ye would have known also my Father, and henceforth ye know him and have seen him.
Jesus has been telling His disciples the way to the Father. Now He goes further: to know the Son is to know the Father, and from this moment the disciples do know Him.
The Son is not a first step towards the Father. He is where the Father is seen.
Next the Saviour lets them know that the knowledge of the Father is inseparable from that of the Son. He is the image of the invisible God. In the Son the Father is known, and this the disciples are now given to learn.
God had never made Himself known like this before. People knew His acts, but not Himself.
Before the death of Christ, God was not so revealed. Until Jesus the Son of God came, God stayed hidden behind a veil. People knew little of Him except by His acts. Then Christ revealed the Father, and made Himself known as the Son. On leaving, He promised to send the Holy Spirit to stay with us for ever. "No one has ever seen God; the only God, who is at the Father's side, He has made Him known." The Son, the radiance of His glory, has fully shown God in flesh.
Kelly names the God who now comes into view:
It is no longer a question of the Jehovah God of Israel, nor even of the Almighty, the name by which He made Himself known to the patriarchs. There is a richer display of God, and far more intimate. It was God as the Son knew Him, and was making Him known in the fulness of love and fellowship. This God would bring His own who were in the world into the conscious relationship of children, born of Him.
Darby dates the change. Judas has gone out, the cross is in view, and the Lord speaks of it as already done.
From verse 31 of chapter 13 this character of Jesus opens out. From that act He was as good as dead, and He was stating the result: "From now on you do know Him and have seen Him." He speaks as one who knows Him, and this fulness was now revealed in Him. He had been revealed in a certain sense before, as He was to Peter in Matthew 16. Yet He stayed hidden while He lived and was not yet glorified. Then the veil was torn, and the glory seen there was the glory seen in Him.
The verse gives more than access to God. What the disciples receive is the Father Himself.
We next learn the blessed truth, that by coming through Jesus we not only come to the Father, but we get the Father... The poor weak heart does not know its full blessedness in Jesus. It would pour itself into those words: "Show me the Father, and it is enough for me." Only let me know that the Father too is mine, and it is enough — it is all. And that satisfaction is close at hand: "Whoever has seen me has seen the Father." We cannot separate the two. We cannot get Jesus without getting the Father, because the Father was — and is — in Jesus.
"If you had known me" implies they had not. They had heard Him and watched Him, and still missed who stood in front of them.
The disciples, like Israel, had heard and witnessed His marvellous words and works, but never really grasped what they heard and saw.
The knowledge He asks for is not new information. It grows from time spent with Him.
"You who have followed Me, who know what kind of Person I am, who have seen My ways, who have heard My voice, who have watched My character — now everything I want to teach you about the Father is set before you in Me." It is like a child learning what its father is like in the small things of home and school.
- Missed — The disciples had heard His words and seen His works, and still had not known Him, though the Father's whole character stood before them in the Person they followed.
- Known — The Father is known nowhere but in the Son. In Him the invisible God becomes visible.
- New — Until the Son came, God stayed hidden behind a veil, and people knew Him mainly by His acts. Now Christ makes Him known as the Son knows Him.
- Given — Christ is not only the way to the Father. Through Him we receive the Father Himself, for the Father was and is in Jesus.
- Dated — "From now on" marks a real turning point. Judas has gone out, the cross is in view, and the glory hidden through His life now stands out.
Philip says to him, Lord, shew us the Father and it suffices us.
Philip's words come near the end of a long evening of teaching, after Jesus has spoken of His Father's house. It sounds like the highest thing anyone could ask for. Yet the Lord's answer carries real pain.
Philip has caught something true: that a place is only as good as the Person who fills it. One writer links his words to the Father's house the Lord had just spoken of.
Philip wanted to know more about the place. He seemed to grasp that the Person makes the place — that the Father is all the joy and blessedness of the Father's house. So he prays, "Show us the Father, and it is enough for us." What a blessing it is, by grace, to know that we need nothing else to fill and satisfy the whole being.
The problem lay in what kind of showing Philip had in mind. He wanted something his eyes could take in. The Lord was speaking about a different kind of seeing. One writer sets him beside Thomas, another disciple who also could not see past physical things.
Philip, like Thomas, cannot rise above physical things. Thomas thought of a physical place. Philip thinks of physical sight, and so says, "Lord, show us the Father, and it is enough for us." The Lord's reply shows that He is speaking of the seeing that belongs to faith.
Read on its own, the request sounds admirable — and this from a man who had once brought others to Jesus. But it was not a step forward.
Philip says, "Lord, show us the Father, and it is enough for us." To many readers this might seem an excellent wish. It comes from a man who had seen Jesus himself and had helped others who wanted to see Him. But it was sad unbelief. The Lord had just spoken patient, gracious words to lead them on.
But Philip did not doubt everything. It is worth naming what he did not believe.
The Lord's rebuke of Philip was aimed less at his unbelief about the Person of the Son, and more at his unbelief about the revelation of the Father which the Son had made. The first is bound up in the second.
Philip was asking for a separate display of the Father. He wanted Him to appear in some form other than the Son. One writer answers by pointing to the ordinary substance of Christ's life — what He said and what He did.
The Lord patiently explains to Philip that He Himself, as a Man here, gave a full and blessed display of everything the Father is. His words were the Father's words; His works were the Father's works... When they looked at Jesus the Son as Man here, they were looking at what the Father is. There is no difference between the Father and the Son.
That also settles where anyone should look who shares Philip's longing today.
It is pointless, then, to look anywhere else, or to look for something beyond what He has already made known. The Son alone gives us the knowledge of the Father, and He reveals the Father fully.
Philip spoke as though he still had ground to cover. In fact, whoever comes to Christ has already arrived — and Philip was right that the Father would be enough.
His very presence here was to declare the Father. That His own disciples still did not know the Father, after all this, wounds Him in the deepest way... If we have truly come to Christ, we have no further journey to make to reach the Father. We already have the very depth of the Father's heart laid open. And oh, what a wonderful joy it is to take this in by simple faith! Philip was at least right in saying, "It is enough for us"; and nothing less than this can satisfy us.
- Right longing. Philip was right that the Father would be enough. Nothing less than knowing the Father can satisfy anyone.
- Wrong request. He asked for physical sight, while the Lord was speaking of the seeing that belongs to faith.
- Real grief. His words were unbelief. He had missed the Father whom the Son had already revealed.
- One place to look. The Son's words and works show the Father. There is no other display of Him, and nothing beyond Him to find.
- Already enough. Whoever has come to Christ has no further journey to make. In Him the Father's heart lies open — and that is enough.
Jesus says to him, Am I so long a time with you, and thou hast not known me, Philip? He that has seen me has seen the Father; and how sayest thou, Shew us the Father?
Philip has just asked Jesus to show the disciples the Father, saying that would be enough for them. The Lord's answer points them nowhere new. It points them back to Himself, and to the years they had already spent watching Him.
Philip's question was not idle. He had grasped what makes the Father's house worth going to.
Philip wanted to know more about the place. He seemed to grasp that the Person makes the place. The Father is all the joy and blessedness of the Father's house. So he prayed, "Show us the Father, and it is enough for us." How wonderful, by grace, to have the sense that nothing else is needed to fill and satisfy the whole being.
The Lord's reply carries pain. Philip had lived beside the One sent to reveal the Father, and still asked to see Him.
The Lord's reply to Philip is an expression of pain at his lack of understanding… His very presence here was to declare the Father. That His disciples should still not know the Father, after all this, wounds Him in the deepest way… It is a tender but sad rebuke. Had Philip really not known that He was on the Father's mission? that He was Himself the love-gift of God? But we are even less excusable if we do not know it now… If we have truly come to Christ, we do not have a further journey to make to reach the Father. We have had the very depth of the Father's heart told out to us.
Philip wanted something his eyes could take in. But crowds had watched Jesus for years and saw only a workman.
The unbelieving world did not see the Son; all they saw was the supposed son of Joseph — the carpenter. Only faith could see, in that lowly Man, the only begotten Son who came to declare the Father… Abraham could tell us that God is Almighty. Moses could tell us that God is the I AM, eternal and unchanging. But neither Abraham nor Moses was great enough to declare the heart of the Father to us. None but a divine Person is great enough to reveal a divine Person.
The Lord's question — how long He had been with them — is itself the evidence.
Philip says to Him, "Show us the Father," and the Lord answers, in effect: Whom have you been looking at all the time I have been with you? Whose words have you been listening to? Whose works have you seen? Whose moral nature has been displayed before your eyes? "Whoever has seen Me has seen the Father."
That revelation happened on earth, in a life we can still watch.
The nature, character and disposition of God came to light in the Son of God in this world, and not after He ascended back to where He was before. "Whoever has seen Me has seen the Father" was what came out down here, and we do need to contemplate Jesus as He walked if we want to see this in all its fullness.
This is not only a claim about the Father. It is a claim about who Jesus Himself is.
Here the Lord expressly teaches His essential Godhead as one with the Father. No doubt distinct as to personality, as He elsewhere shows, when He says, "the Father is greater than I." But the point insisted on is that He is one in essence…
If that is so, the search for God has an end.
If we want to know God the Father, where are we to learn Him? "Whoever has seen Me has seen the Father." Have our hearts ever looked at Christ as an object and said, while looking, "I have nothing more to seek"? Just think what it is to look at the Lord in the power of the Spirit of God. In that poor despised Man you see One who was God walking on the earth. So when someone sat down beside Him and told Him his sin, he was telling it to God!
- Request — Philip asked for the Father because he sensed that the Person, not the place, is the joy of that home. His instinct was right. He was already looking at the answer.
- Rebuke — The reply is grief, not anger. To live beside the Son and still ask for the Father wounds Him. We have even less excuse.
- Revelation — His words, His works, His whole moral nature showed the Father on earth. That is why we still watch how He walked.
- Recognition — The world saw only a carpenter. Faith sees the Son who came to make the Father known. Only a divine Person can reveal a divine Person.
- Rest — Coming to Christ is not a stage on the way to the Father; there is no further journey and nothing more to seek.
Believest thou not that I [am] in the Father, and that the Father is in me? The words which I speak to you I do not speak from myself; but the Father who abides in me, he does the works.
Philip had just asked the Lord to show him the Father. This verse is the answer: Jesus points to Himself — to His own words and His own works. Two questions sit at the centre. What does it mean that He is in the Father and the Father in Him? And why does He say the words He speaks are not His own?
The words "show us the Father" assume that something more is still to come. The answer closes that door.
Jesus replied, "Whoever has seen Me has seen the Father." So it is useless to look anywhere else, or to hope for some advance on what has been made known in Him. We are limited to the Son for the knowledge of the Father, and in Him the Father is fully revealed.
Everything here turns on who Jesus is. Human reasoning stumbles over such a claim, and the works He did stood behind it.
Everything turned on the glory of His Person. The oneness of the Godhead was the central truth Israel had to testify to, and it was a difficulty for the reasoning mind of man, which cannot rise above its own experience. The law and the prophets had prepared the way, and so had John the Baptist's witness. But more than that, the words Jesus said were not like the words of any other man. They were no mere human things, nor independent of His Father. He had been made flesh, but never ceased to be the Word, the Son; and the works He did bore the unmistakable imprint of the same gracious One — the Father. It was He that did the works. So the disciples were called to believe that He was in the Father, and the Father in Him. Only the Divine nature can be like that. The works themselves bore witness to it, and left unbelievers without excuse.
Notice the odd shape of the sentence. He says the words are not from Himself — yet He does not go on to say that the Father speaks them instead.
I take the words that follow to be connected with these: "I am in the Father and the Father is in me." "I do not speak on my own authority." And, "the Father who dwells in me," and so on. He could not say instead, "But the Father speaks"; for the Son was the word of the Father. He did not speak of Himself, yet He could not distinguish the Persons here. He spoke the word of God; being in the Father, He spoke as the Word of God. This showed His unity with the Father — that He did not speak from Himself.
He lived here in dependence on His Father. His works were real proof of who He was, yet He traced them to the Father and not to Himself.
Religious men who were not born again said the Lord Jesus was "making Himself equal with God" (John 5:18), and they therefore sought to kill Him. He was here doing His Father's will, depending on Him, and He explained that He did nothing on His own. He did work that proved who He was: "For the works that the Father has given Me to accomplish, the very works that I am doing, bear witness about Me," He said. But again, "the Father who dwells in Me does His works." He did His works for the Father's honour and in His Name.
The verse begins with words and ends with works. He puts the two on the same level, and that says something about Him we could never say about ourselves.
Being what He was, His words were as perfect as His works... Our words often say either less or more than the truth. We are often humbled to find that we have failed to say even what we wanted to say. Sometimes our imperfect words have left a wrong, even untrue, impression behind. With Him, on the other hand, every word was perfect, and so a ray of His own glory as well as a display of the Father. We find in John 14 that He identifies His words with His works... The words were as perfect as the works, and both alike the revelation of the Father.
The next verse offers a fallback: if not the Person, then at least the works. Commentators read this as a deliberate step down to meet weak faith.
"Believe me that I am in the Father, and the Father in me; or else believe me for the very works' sake." Now, the latter surely proved that the Father was in Him... The "believe me" depended on His Person, and brought them into communion, in reliance on His word, with the Father. If they could not see that He was in the Father, and so know the value of His word as speaking the words of God, being so one with the Father, let them take the evidence of His truth from the works He did.
- Look here. Do not look past Christ for the Father. The Son is where the Father is fully revealed.
- Hear Him. His words did not come from Himself. Yet He does not name the Father as the speaker instead, because the Son is the Word of the Father.
- Watch Him. He did His Father's will in dependence on Him. He did nothing on His own, and all of it was for the Father's honour.
- Weigh both. Words and works stand together, each as perfect as the other, and both alike a revelation of the Father.
- Believe Him. The disciples were called to believe a union only the Divine nature makes possible, and the works themselves gave a witness that left unbelief without excuse.
Believe *me* that I [am] in the Father and the Father in me; but if not, believe me for the works' sake themselves.
Philip had just asked the Lord to show them the Father. The answer stays on the question of who He Himself is: believe first in His Person, and if that is too hard, believe the works done through Him.
Everything in the passage rests on who He is. That is where the reasoning mind runs into trouble.
Everything turned on the glory of His Person. The very unity of the Godhead was the central truth Israel had to testify to. Yet it became a difficulty to the reasoning mind of man, which cannot rise above its own experience. He had been made flesh, but He never ceased to be the Word, the Son. And the works He did carried the unmistakable stamp of that same gracious One — the Father. It was He who did the works. So the Lord called the disciples to believe that He was in the Father, and the Father in Him. That is a state of being only possible in the Divine nature. The works themselves gave witness to it, and left the unbelieving without excuse.
The verse gives an alternative — "or else." One writer weighs what each route achieves. He works from an older wording of the verse: "believe me for the very works' sake."
"Believe me that I am in the Father, and the Father in me; or else believe me for the very works' sake." Now the second surely proved that the Father was in Him. But it could serve here, and did, only to prove the truth of His word — "believe me for." The "believe me" rested on His Person. It drew them into communion, trusting His word along with the Father. Suppose they could not see that He was in the Father, and so could not know the worth of His word as speaking the words of God, being so one with the Father. Then let them take the evidence of His truthfulness from the works He did.
That the Lord offers a second ground at all is worth noticing. One writer sees grace in it.
I find the grace of the Lord in this chapter 14. He has to come down to a lower testimony (verse 10). He drops the other question for the present, and comes down to words and works. "Who worked these words and works in me? What do you think of them?" If they would not receive them, they were denying His place as servant. He would not say His own words and works: "The Father who dwells in me, He does the works."
The works prove both halves of the sentence. But they prove each half in a different way.
The works of His Father done by Him confirmed all He claimed, in the fullest way. They implied the Father abiding in Him, in the power displayed. They implied His abiding in the Father, in intimacy of communion. So there was enough witness to the truth of His claims; and if they would not believe His words, they might at least believe His works.
He makes this appeal in private, to His own disciples, and He means a particular class of works.
"If not … for the very works' sake." Here it must be kept in mind that our Lord is addressing His disciples. It is His works, not as Messiah, but as Son of God.
Nor were such works bare displays of strength. What they said about God was as much part of the evidence as the power behind them.
Miracles confirmed the word, and the word was the proper and express revelation of God's mind. But miracles were also a testimony in and of themselves. They spoke not only of power but of goodness — of God working in goodness in the middle of sorrow and misery, and doing it in the most definite and distinct way.
The Lord put this question to Philip alone, then pressed the same call on them all.
"Do you not believe," said the Lord to Philip, "that I am in the Father and the Father is in Me?" Words and works both attested it. "Believe Me," He said to all, "that I am in the Father and the Father in Me." His being man in no way hindered or lowered His dignity, nor His essential oneness with the Father. It was, and is, of the greatest importance for believers to hold this firmly and with worship. The Son is God, even as the Father.
- Person first. The first call is to trust who He is: in the Father, and the Father in Him. That way of being belongs to the Divine nature alone.
- Word second. Trust His Person and His words carry their true weight. He speaks the words of God because He is one with the Father.
- Works as fallback. If faith cannot yet see His Person, the works stand as evidence of His truthfulness. They prove the Father was dwelling in Him.
- Grace in the descent. He comes down to a lower testimony rather than leave slow hearts behind. The works He points to are His Father's.
- Left without excuse. Power joined to goodness made the witness complete, so unbelief has no defence.