Jesus says, "I will do it."

Who is the Way, the Truth, the Life.

5.3.2026  | 5th Sunday of Easter

Texts: Acts 7:55–60 | Psalm 31:1–5, 15–16 | 1 Peter 2:2–10 | John 14:1–14

Easter blessings to you, People of the Resurrection.

During these fifty days of Easter, people have always asked questions,

questions in the first century,

throughout Christian history,

and certainly in our own time. Questions like:

Who is this Jesus?

What does Jesus look like?

How would I know your church is a place where I can experience Jesus?

And if we’re honest, many of those questions still echo in our own hearts today.

Who is this Jesus?

We might answer:

Scripture tells his story, and his teachings are there for all to hear.

But the challenge is real: many people today don’t know what Jesus taught or how he lived. This becomes especially clear when we look at the confusion and mixed messages about Jesus that circulate on social media today.

What does Jesus look like?

We might say:

The Bible calls Jesus the head of the church, and the church is the people of God.

But the challenge is that we, the church, don’t always act like the unified, harmonious body of Christ we desire to be. This becomes clear whenever we hear Christians speak or act in ways that claim to represent Jesus but don’t reflect the humility and compassion we see in the New Testament.

How would I know your church is a place where I can experience Jesus in a real, tangible way?

We might say:

Scripture shows us the church as a community that gathers in both joy and struggle.

But the challenge is that we sometimes idealize the church with simple statements like, “We’re all one big family.” And when we do, we forget the deep purpose of the cross, the very place where Jesus gave his life for us, people who constantly need mercy, forgiveness, trust, and surrender to God.

And when these challenges are not addressed

with honesty and care, people leave.

Some quietly step back from ministries.

Some begin to question the body of Christ.

Some drift away from God without even realizing it.

And some of us here today know exactly what that feels like.

We’ve had seasons when faith felt confusing,

when the church didn’t look like the body of Christ we hoped it would be,

and when we weren’t sure where God was leading next.

Because people desire something real.

They want precise directions.

They want clarity.

They want a map, a blueprint of God’s kingdom.

They want a promise from the body of Christ, even though the body of Christ is also learning to trust God’s promise.

They want to see the way.

Nothing is wrong with that desire, for we are human.

Just like the disciples in John 14,

who couldn’t quite grasp what Jesus meant by “the way.”

Thomas wanted directions.

Philip wanted proof.

And if we’re honest, we often want something just as concrete,

something we can hold, something we can see, something that feels certain.

But Jesus isn’t offering a map.

He’s offering himself, the way.

“The way” is not a path.

It’s a Person.

Jesus gives them and us himself.

When we stay on Jesus’ way,

we learn the truth of what God’s kingdom is really about.

When we stay on Jesus’ way,

we learn how to embrace and live into the new, resurrected life.

And Jesus’ way meets us in the ordinary places

in the conversations we’re afraid to start,

in the forgiveness we’re not sure we can offer,

in the decisions that keep us awake at night,

in the moments when we wonder if we’re enough.

Jesus’ way shows up right there.

And then we discover something beautiful: the future is already prepared, already cultivated, already accessible through Jesus’ way of mercy, forgiveness, trust, and surrender.

Jesus says, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life…”

And what assures me most as a believer is this promise:

“If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.”

That is the Good News today.

Jesus will do it.

And the prerequisite is simple: believing.

It always comes back to believing.

And we know how easily believing can become a slogan,

or sound shallow or cliché,

something we say rather than something we live.

So imagine this:

Children fall asleep in the backseat.

They don’t know the route.

They don’t ask for the map.

They don’t worry about the destination.

They trust the one who is driving, caring for them, and loving them,

the one who helps them discover purpose and meaning along the way.

All of us ride in that backseat with Jesus at the wheel.

Some of us feel that backseat season more intensely right now,

not sure what’s next,

not sure how things will unfold,

not sure what God is doing.

And Jesus is whispering,

“You don’t have to know the way. You just have to know me.”

Jesus is inviting us into a relationship with him,

with the way, the truth, and the life

through discipleship and trust.

And whenever we need him,

whenever we ask,

Jesus’ response is: “I will do it.”

That is our gospel today: Jesus will do it.

I’ll be honest with you:

I need this promise as much as anyone.

There are days when I want the map too.

Days when I want God to show me the whole plan.

Days when believing feels like the hardest part.

And yet Jesus keeps saying, “I will do it.”

Each morning when I wake up and begin a new day, I feel grounded,

not because I have perfect faith,

but because Jesus is perfectly faithful.

The work Jesus gives us is simple:

go with the Gospel,

live as disciples,

and trust the One who is always with us.

The foundation of the church is not our perfection.

It’s our believing, the believing Peter learned from Jesus,

shaped through encounter, failure, forgiveness, and trust.

And like Peter, we are called to believe with that same trust:

believe in the One who is the way, the truth, and the life,

believe in the One who holds the map even when we cannot see it,

believe in the One who promises, “I will do it.”

Let us pray.

Jesus, our way, our truth, and our life,

teach us to trust you more than the maps we wish we had.

Root us in believing

not in our strength, but in your faithfulness.

Guide our steps as we go with your Gospel.

Shape our lives as your disciples.

And remind us each day that you are with us,

doing the work we cannot do on our own.

Set our feet on your way,

fill us with your truth,

and raise us into your resurrected life.

Send us out in your name,

and keep us in your promise: You will do it.

Amen.