Verily, verily, I say to you, He that believes on me, the works which I do shall he do also, and he shall do greater than these, because I go to the Father.
Jesus is getting His disciples ready for His departure. His promise here is startling, and it raises two questions: what are these greater works, and how could anyone do more than Jesus did?
Up to this point the disciples had watched Jesus work. The double "truly, truly" signals a shift.
Here the Lord stops speaking of His words and works, which the disciples had enjoyed while He was still with them. He passes on to the new and deeper experience of His power after His departure to the Father. The words "Truly, truly" mark the change — words generally used to introduce some fresh truth. So the Lord reveals to His amazed disciples a new truth. After His departure the believer in Jesus would do the works that Jesus had done in person, and, more surprising still, would do greater works.
The verse itself gives the reason, and it says nothing about the quality of the workers.
The Lord Himself gives the answer. It sits in the short sentence "because I am going to the Father." Of course, He far surpasses all who came after Him, both in personal glory and in moral beauty. The reason for the greater works that were to follow had little to do with the servants who were used to perform them. Rather, the greater works flowed from the glory of Christ. They reflected that He was no longer on earth, in lowliness, but glorified by and with the Father.
Commentators point to what happened once He had gone and the Holy Spirit had come.
And more than this, the day was coming, as stated in verse 12, when the disciples would do similar and even greater works. That was because He was going to the Father, which, as we have learned in John 7, meant the coming of the Spirit… Before His death and resurrection the Lord was restricted (Luke 12:50). But once that was done and the Spirit given, He could work freely by the Spirit through His disciples. No day in the Lord's ministry saw 3,000 souls converted, as on the Day of Pentecost. Nor did His labours cover the mighty circuit "from Jerusalem and all the way around to Illyricum," as Paul's did.
Even in outward signs, the servants did things the Master never did in person.
…the power that would clothe the believer, and enable him to do not only what they had seen Jesus do, but greater things still in honour of His name. And this came true to the letter. We never hear of the Lord's shadow healing the sick. No cloths were taken from His body to cure disease or drive out demons. And that is not to mention the crowds brought in far and wide by the preaching of the apostles. What greater proof of divine power than to work as He Himself did, and yet more by His servants!
Some claim this promise as a licence for ongoing healing ministries. One writer answers that claim directly, notes where Scripture is silent, and points to spiritual works.
Verse 12 has been a difficulty to many… Christian Scientists and extreme faith-healers claim that He meant His actual works of healing. They say Christians should do the same works now, and even greater works. But how could a believer do a greater work than the raising of Lazarus from the dead? The promise that the believer "will also do the works that I do" came true right after the day of Pentecost. Peter's shadow healed the sick, the lame man was healed, demons were driven out, and the dead were raised. Were these miracles to continue to the end of the age? Scripture nowhere states that this should be the case. The "greater works" are spiritual works. The thousands saved at the start of this age, and the preaching of the gospel far away among the Gentiles with its gracious results — these are the greater works.
The next verses show how believers draw on this power.
So the Lord had guaranteed a solemn and cheering promise. His going to the Father would in no way stop and dry up the mighty stream of gracious power in which He had worked here below. … He now follows this up and explains it by the place He gives to faith at work in prayer. From now on prayer would have its fullest character in His name — the name of the One who had glorified the Father to the uttermost.
- Cause — "Because I am going to the Father" is the hinge of the verse. The greater works flow from Christ's glory, not from the quality of the workers.
- Gift — His going meant the Spirit's coming. What was restricted during His time on earth could now flow freely through His disciples.
- Reach — The greatness is one of scale. Three thousand converted in a day; the gospel carried from Jerusalem to Illyricum; signs never seen while He was here in person.
- Guard — Scripture nowhere promises that such miracles continue to the end. The verse is not a charter for modern healing claims.
- Access — The promise runs on into prayer. Asking in His name draws on the same power.
And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, this will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son.
On the night before the cross, Jesus gives His disciples something they have never had: the right to use His name in prayer. The promise sounds boundless. Yet two things shape it — the words "in my name," and the goal of glorifying the Father in the Son.
Commentators note when this privilege begins.
Here, for the first time, we read of prayer in His name. When He gave the disciples the prayer of Matthew 6, He did not tell them to ask in His name. In John 16:24 we hear from His own lips that this was something quite new: "Until now you have asked nothing in my name." The prayer of Matthew 6 was prayer to the Father. It was the pouring out of the heart to God by someone who knew he was God's child. But prayer in His name was unknown until Christ made atonement by His blood.
The phrase is not a closing formula tacked onto whatever we happen to want.
So it matters greatly to find out what the words "in my name" mean. They cannot mean simply saying the words, or ending our prayers with "through our Lord Jesus Christ." That would tie the answer of prayer to a mere formula. Even between people, no one may use another's name without his consent and authority. In the same way we cannot use the name of Christ in our prayers without His warrant — a warrant we must find in His own Word. And we have that warrant for every prayer the Holy Spirit stirs in us. With it we come before God with all the authority of Christ Himself, and such prayers rise with the same power as if Christ presented them Himself.
One word carries two sides. First, it shuts nothing out:
"Whatever" tells us that no subject and no area of life falls outside this promise in advance. In principle, a Christian can "ask in His name" about any issue and any situation in life. He or she just has to make sure the request does not go against God's will.
Second, the added words draw a boundary.
"Whatever" is the promise, but the words "in my name" define and limit it. As another has said: "Whatever! If it stood alone, it would be boundless, and the Lord would have opened the door to every desire of unbroken self-will among His people. But He adds, in my name. This is His limit — the barrier He sets up."
The one who is leaving promises to be the one who acts.
The disciples were to count on power that could not fail, if they sought it in His name. Jesus was no mere man, whose departure must end what He used to do when present. Though absent, He would prove Himself Divine. He was no less interested in their requests now that He had risen from the dead. Whatever they might ask, He would do, so that the Father might be glorified in the Son.
The Son acts with one aim in view: the Father's glory.
In Matthew 18, the Father would answer prayer for the honour of the Son. Here the Son will answer their prayers, so that the Father might be glorified. In every activity on earth the Son had sought the Father's glory. In His exalted place in heaven, the Father's glory would still be before Him. And how wonderful that the Father has tied His own glory to the blessing of those He has given to the Son, so that the two can never be parted. Such is the Father's grace!
Because the name carries such weight, it also sifts what we bring.
It is a real thing to use the name of Christ in prayer. When we do, the request goes up to the Father tied to all that the Son is to Him. The Lord has promised to answer such prayers, so that the Father should be glorified in the Son. What a healthy check this could be on rash and thoughtless asking! How many a prayer would never be spoken, if the one praying stopped to ask: Can I present this in that name?
- New — Prayer in Christ's name starts here. Before the cross it was unknown, even in the prayer of Matthew 6.
- Warrant — The name is not a closing phrase. It is borrowed authority, and it needs the owner's permission.
- Whatever — No subject is shut out in advance. But "in my name" is the barrier that keeps self-will from walking through the open door.
- He acts — "This I will do" is the pledge of a Lord whose absence never weakened His power or His interest in our prayers.
- Glory — The end of it all is the Father glorified in the Son, and He has tied that glory to the blessing of His own.
If ye shall ask anything in my name, I will do it.
Here Jesus is about to leave His disciples, and He hands them something to use in His absence: His own name. The promise sounds unlimited — so what does it mean to ask "in my name," and does "anything" really mean anything?
Verse 13 already gave a wide assurance. Verse 14 says it again, and one writer explains why the repetition matters:
The disciples were to count on power that could not fail, if sought in His name. Jesus was no mere man, whose departure must end what He used to do while present. Absent, He would prove Himself divine, and no less interested in their requests because He was risen from the dead. He is not content with the broad assurance of verse 13, which holds no matter what the difficulty. He repeats it in verse 14 about any particular request of theirs, and His pledge of personal action there is even more emphatic.
Translations differ here. Some include the word "me," and one writer traced why:
In John 14:14 the "Englishman's Greek New Testament" gives a footnote reading, "If you ask Me anything." One of the latest Greek lexicons (Nestle) puts the word "Me" in the text itself.
Asking in the name of Jesus was new, and it belongs to the time when He is no longer here.
This mighty power was available for faith expressing itself through prayer in His name. As one writer has truly said: "When you ask in the name of another, you take his claims, his merits, and his right to be heard as your own." The Lord, by His own words, gives this privilege to those who are in relationship with Himself by faith. It was something new to the disciples to ask in the name of Christ. Like everything else in these discourses, it grows out of the Lord's departure. Asking in His name assumes the absence of Christ. The phrase "ask in My name" occurs five times in these discourses.
One writer tests the phrase against ordinary life:
It could not mean simply saying the words. It could not mean ending our prayers with "through our Lord Jesus Christ." That would tie the answer to a mere formula. Even in human dealings, you cannot use another person's name without his consent and authority... In the same way we cannot use the name of Christ in our prayers without His warrant, and we find that warrant in His own Word.
One writer measures how wide the promise runs:
When I appear before God in the name of Christ, I present my requests in all the value of that name to God. That is why our Lord says, "If you ask me anything in my name, I will do it" — because it is the joy of the heart of God to grant every request presented that way. The promise is absolute, with no limit at all. The reason is simple: no one could ask in the name of Christ for anything that went against the will of God.
That width still has a guard:
This does not mean an automatic system or a "self-service shop." It is not a mechanism for reaching our human or even selfish goals. If a small child reaches for a knife, of course his parents will not give it to him. But if he comes hungry, they will feed him.
The answer has an aim beyond the one who prays:
The glory of the Father is bound up in the Son's response to the poor feeble cry of His people. Wonderful to say, the Son heightens that glory by the gracious way He takes up our "whatever." What tremendous encouragement to pray. "I will do it," He says, for no object lower than the glory of the Father.
One writer turns this into a test before we pray:
It is a real thing to use the name of Christ in prayer. In that case the request goes up to the Father in connection with all that the Son is to Him... But what a healthy check that could prove on rash and thoughtless requests! How many a prayer would never have been spoken, if the one praying had only stopped to ask himself: Can I present this in that name?
- Name given. Asking in Christ's name is a privilege that starts with His departure — it means coming with His claims, His merits, His right to be heard.
- Name honoured. The words are not a closing formula; using someone's name needs his authority, and Christ gives ours in His own Word.
- Name wide. "Anything" excludes no area of life, because nothing truly asked in that name can run against the will of God.
- Name guarded. The promise is not a vending machine; a Father who feeds a hungry child still refuses him a knife.
- Name glorified. The Son answers for one purpose above every other — that the Father may be glorified in the Son.