I AM THE WAY _ PART !

 

Before we dive into today’s reflection, pause and consider the weight of these words from Jesus:

 

“I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” (John 14:6)

 

This is not a gentle suggestion. It is a bold, uncompromising declaration. It cuts through every human assumption about access to God, morality, or spiritual progress. In this statement, Jesus identifies Himself as the exclusive path to the Father, the embodiment of truth, and the source of eternal life.

 

I Am the Way – Part One

 

“I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.”
(John 14:6)

When Jesus makes this statement, He is not offering comfort, opinion, or religious poetry. He is making a definitive declaration about access—access to God, to life, and to salvation itself.

At the heart of that declaration stands the phrase “I am the way.”

Jesus does not say, “I will show you the way,” nor “I will point you in the right direction.” He says “I am.” The way is not a system to learn, a philosophy to adopt, or a path to customise. The way is a person. Remove Christ from the way and you do not discover alternatives—you lose the way altogether.

This is why the claim is so confronting, and why it has always been resisted. From the beginning, the enemy has rarely needed to deny God outright. His preferred strategy has been distraction, dilution, and displacement. “Did God really say?” was not a denial—it was a subtle redirection. And that strategy remains effective.

A clear example of this can be seen in what surrounds Christmas today.

What was once a proclamation of Christ entering the world has gradually been crowded out by sentiment, mythology, and marketing. Christ is pushed to the margins while Father Christmas takes centre stage. Then even that becomes uncomfortable, and the language shifts again— “Happy Holidays,” vague goodwill, generic cheer. Nothing is openly hostile. Nothing appears aggressive. Christ is simply no longer central.

This is how the way is discredited—not through open opposition, but through quiet replacement.

The enemy does not object to Jesus being acknowledged as a historical figure, a moral example, or a seasonal reference. What must be resisted is the proclamation of Jesus as the way. Once Christ is reduced to tradition or nostalgia, the offence of His exclusivity disappears. No repentance is required. No surrender is demanded. No narrow gate needs to be entered.

Jesus Himself issues the warning:

“Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many.” (Matthew 7:13)

The wide road is not obviously wicked. It is a busy, festive, inclusive, and vibrant place full of activity. It allows belief without obedience, celebration without submission, and spirituality without Christ at the centre. It feels kind. It feels reasonable. It feels safe. But it leads away from life.

By contrast, the narrow way remains narrow because it requires what distraction avoids: repentance, humility, and surrender. You cannot drift into it accidentally while occupied with everything else. You must turn, enter, and follow.

Access to the Father is not gained through goodwill, generosity, family traditions, or seasonal joy. Those things may be pleasant, but they are not the way. Jesus leaves no ambiguity: no one comes to the Father except through Him.

To discredit the way is not always to attack Christ. Often it is simply to crowd Him out—until He is mentioned but no longer followed.

Yet the mercy remains this: the way has not moved. Christ has not changed. Amid all the noise, the invitation still stands. The narrow gate is still open. And the way is still a person.

The question is not whether Christ is acknowledged this season, but whether He is followed.

Signing off

Tyrone