同樣地，耶穌的門徒亦都意識到，他們將會失去某些東西。耶穌提到他將要離開，前往一個門徒暫時無法跟他一齊去的地方。這個時候，房子裡面瀰漫住一股焦慮的氣氛。針對門徒的恐懼，耶穌這樣說：「你們心裡不要憂愁。」他的意思不是說一切都無問題，所以不必擔心；而是說縱使前面有危難，但是上帝已經在危難之中開路。

這段經文的主旨，不是在於給予我們一幅逃避世界的路線地圖，而是在於塑造我們，教導我們應該怎樣在世上存活，既與上帝同在，亦都與別人同在。

耶穌為門徒獻上的，並不是一套生存的策略，而是他自己。他說：「我就是道路、真理、生命。」

我們不單只要注意耶穌說了甚麼，亦要想想他沒有說甚麼。譬如，他沒有說：「我會為你們指明道路」，彷彿他只需要提供資訊或者方向，我們就可以到達目標。他說的是：「我就是道路。」由此看來，基督徒的生命，歸根結底並不在於，我們能否掌握一套信條，或者完成一個遙遠的旅程。基督徒的生命，乃是關於與耶穌同在，分享他的生命，活在他裡面，深信哪裡有耶穌，哪裡就有天父。

至於「若不藉著我，沒有人能到父那裡去」這句經文，很可能反映了早期基督徒敵視猶太人的立場。這句說話，過去一直令我感到十分困擾。

我認為，隨住我們的視野逐漸擴闊，我們可以看見，上帝會藉著其他宗教信徒、甚至全無宗教信仰的人，在這個世界當中積極作工。我們無需要視之為一種威脅，反而應該視之為一種確據，肯定耶穌通過他的跟隨者，實現他在世的使命；而藉著他宣講的信息，其他人將會看見上帝怎樣啟示自己，亦能夠辨認出真正屬於上帝的印記。

我們可以看到，這種思想與「同在同行」（being-with）的神學，正好不謀而合。基督教的福音或者好消息，並不是告訴我們，有一位遠在天邊的上帝，闖入世界解決一切問題；亦不是說上帝將一些工具交給我們，叫我們自己解決問題。基督教的好消息是：無論在問題未有解決之前、在解決問題的掙扎過程之中、以至在問題得到解決之後，上帝都會與我們同在。

這章聖經一開始就說：「你們心裡不要憂愁。」

這句說話不是對苦難的否定，而是邀請我們同上帝建立關係。怎樣才能消除「憂愁的心」呢？不是提供解決問題的方法，而是與憂愁的人同在，陪伴住他們。耶穌是怎樣安撫門徒的呢？他並沒有預告未來有多美好，而是要求他們堅定自己的信心。他說：「你們信上帝，也當信我。」

然後，耶穌說了一句耐人尋味的話：「在我父的家裡有許多住處。」

好多人認為，這句話是關於天堂天家的應許。這個應許的確是關於天家，但又不單只是關於天家，亦都關乎人怎樣歸屬上帝、關乎上帝給予的空間。上帝的家廣闊無邊，願意接待每一個人，亦能夠包容一切恐懼同疑惑的思緒。天父的家不是一個關上大閘的團體，而是一個歡迎人人進來的地方。

這個「父家有許多住處」的異象，不單只是關於未來的應許，亦是關於當下的實踐。在聖馬田教堂，每當我們接納陌生人成為我們的鄰舍、每當我們表明「每一位活在邊緣的人，都是我們的一份子，一個都不能少」、每當我們的音樂、禱告同伸張公義的行動，為那些以為自己已經無處容身的人締造空間，這個異象就會得到實現。

腓力聽完耶穌的說話，就回應說：「主啊，將父顯給我們看，我們就知足了。」

腓力這個請求，可以說是人之常情。人人都渴望看見清晰肯定的前景、渴望有些確據掌握在手裡面。但是耶穌歎氣地回答說：「腓力，我與你們在一起這麼久了，你還不認識我嗎？」

耶穌的意思是：你所看見的，應該已經很足夠了。耶穌這樣說，並非因為門徒已經明白一切，而是因為他們一直與他同在。上帝的啟示，並不是隱藏在抽象的概念之中，而是彰顯在耶穌的生命裡面：耶穌以慈愛醫治疾病、赦免罪過、與人同在，他的行動其實已經將上帝表明出來。

如果你想知道上帝是怎樣的，就請你看看耶穌怎樣幫人洗腳；怎樣與被社會排斥的人一齊坐席吃喝；怎樣拒絕暴力、面對危難卻不逃避。

耶穌接著作出了一個非常震撼的應許。他說：「我所做的工作，信我的人也要做，並且要做得比這些更大。」

我們要做更大的工作，並非因為我們變得比耶穌更有權能，而是因為「與主同在」帶來的能力，會藉著我們而不斷加倍叠增。教會不是一間保存耶穌記憶、只會「講耶穌」的機構；教會是基督的身體，應該延續耶穌的生命。當我們同耶穌一起的時候，我們能夠藉住這種「與主同在」的關係，學會應該怎樣與別人同在相伴，正如基督與我們同在一樣。

這就是今日福音經課的中心信息。

不是修復，不是控制，亦不是逃避，而是同在同行。

我們要同哀傷的人同在，不急於用理性去解釋他們的哀痛。

我們要同貧窮的人同在，不把他們當做扶貧項目的內容。

我們要同焦慮的人同在，不要只顧高談闊論，彷彿三言兩語就可以消除他們焦慮的情緒。

我們要與上帝同在，確實相信他活潑存在於我們中間，而不是一個空泛的概念。

「你們心裡不要憂愁。」

耶穌不是命令門徒去壓抑自己的恐懼，而是向門徒作出應許：恐懼或者會存在，但並不是最後的結局。我們無需要四處尋覓，去找出前面的道路，因為這條道路就是耶穌，就是與我們同行的人。

正因如此，所有事情都會變得不一樣。

即使我們不知道自己要去哪裡，都不會迷途失喪。

即使未來好似充滿變數，我們都不會被上帝遺棄。

即使世界似乎支離破碎，我們都不會孤單面對。

因為基督就是道路，此刻他與我們同行，將來亦會一路引領。

The disciples’ sense that something is slipping away. Jesus speaks of departure, of going where they cannot yet follow. Anxiety hangs in the air. And into that fear, he says: “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” Not because nothing is wrong—but because God is already making a way through what is wrong.

This passage is less about giving us a map to escape the world and more about forming us to be present within it—with God and with one another.

Jesus does not offer the disciples a strategy. He offers himself. “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.”

Notice what he doesn’t say. He doesn’t say, “I will show you the way,” as if the goal were simply information or direction. He says, “I am the way.” The Christian life, then, is not fundamentally about mastering a set of beliefs or achieving a distant destination. It is about being with Jesus—sharing his life, inhabiting his presence, trusting that wherever he is, there is the Father.

I have in the past been disturbed by the words “No one can come to the father except through me” which may well be a reaction to early Christian anti-Jewish polemic.

I think that as we broaden our vision, we can see God very much at work in the world through people of other faiths and none and this is a reassurance rather than a threat, that Jesus’s earthly mission would be accomplished through his followers and others will recognise through his message, the authentic marks of the God who is revealed.

This is deeply resonant with a “being-with” theology. The good news is not that God swoops in to fix everything from afar, nor that God hands us the tools to fix ourselves. The good news is that God is with us—before the solution, within the struggle, and beyond the outcome.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled.”

This is not a denial of suffering. It is an invitation into relationship. The opposite of a troubled heart is not a solved problem—it is a companion presence. Jesus reassures the disciples not by explaining the future, but by anchoring them in trust: “Believe in God, believe also in me.”

And then there is that mysterious line: “In my father’s house there are many dwelling places.”

This is often heard as a promise about heaven, and it is that—but not only that. It is also about belonging. About space. About a God whose hospitality is expansive enough to hold every fear, every doubt, every person.

At St Martin’s, that vision takes flesh whenever strangers become neighbours, whenever the excluded are named as essential, whenever music, prayer, and justice create room for those who thought there was no room for them. The “many dwelling places” are not just future promises—they are present practices.

“Lord, show us the father, and we will be satisfied,” says Philip.

It is such a human request. We want clarity, certainty, something we can grasp. And Jesus responds with a sigh: “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me?”

In other words: You have already seen enough. Not because the disciples understand everything, but because they have been with him. The revelation of God is not hidden in abstraction; it is visible in a life lived in love, in healing, in forgiveness, in presence.

If you want to know what God is like, look at Jesus washing feet. Look at Jesus eating with outsiders. Look at Jesus refusing violence. Look at Jesus staying.

And then comes the startling promise: “The one who believes in me will also do the works that I do—and, in fact, will do greater works than these.”

Greater works—not because we become more powerful than Jesus, but because his presence multiplies through us. The Church is not an institution preserving memories of Jesus; it is a body through which his life continues. When we are with him, we begin to be with others as he is with us.

That’s the heart of it.

Not fixing, not controlling, not escaping—but being with.

Being with the grieving, without rushing to explain their grief.

Being with the poor, without turning them into projects.

Being with the anxious, without pretending anxiety can be easily resolved.

Being with God, not as an idea, but as a living presence.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled.”

This is not a command to suppress fear. It is a promise that fear does not have the final word. Because the way forward is not a path we must discover—it is a person who walks with us.

And that changes everything.

It means that even when we don’t know where we are going, we are not lost.

Even when the future feels uncertain, we are not abandoned.

Even when the world feels fractured, we are not alone.

Because Christ is the way—and he walks with us now and into the future.