Jesus answered, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” -- John 14:6

In her book, Shrub, the late Molly Ivins relates a story in which Barbara Bush disputes her son George W. Bush’s claim that all the people who haven’t converted to Christianity are doomed to hell.  Dubya points to his Bible and insists that that’s exactly what it says.  To which his mother responds by picking up the phone and saying, “Get me Billy Graham!”

Graham, the evangelist generally credited with converting our then future president to the faith, said technically George was right, but cautioned that one should be careful about interpreting a decision that was God’s alone to make.

It's likely Christ's statement in John 14:6 was what Bush had in mind.  It's often quoted by evangelical Christians as suggesting that Christianity is the only way to God. Yet, even theologians disagree as to Christ’s meaning in the passage. In the commentary for the passage on the BibleGateway.com a quote attributed to Wescott rather charitably suggested that people can be led by Jesus without knowing it:  “It does not follow that every one who is guided by Christ is directly conscious of His guidance.”  

I’m not a theologian.  I’m a novelist.  When I write a novel, I try to make my characters’ words and actions consistent with those as portrayed in the rest of the novel.  If I were to write a novel about a man who on page 5 was meek, humble and compassionate, I would not, for example, have him say things like, “I rule, man!” or “Get with the program, asshole, or I’ll shove your face in the sand!” or even “It’s my way or the highway, sucker!” on page 56.  Not unless some event in the context of the story, such as getting drunk, spending time in prison or attending a Mark Driscoll sermon motivates him to act outside of his established character traits.

In the novels about Jesus known as the Gospels, Jesus spends much of his time listening to and praising people from outside his faith, making statements like, "I tell you, I have not found such great faith even in Israel."  This ecumenical view of faith is consistent throughout the Gospels, and is perhaps one reason that Mahatma Ghandi wondered why people found it inconsistent that he was both a Hindu and a follower of Christ.  

In a passage in Romans that evangelical Christians call “The Heathens in Africa” clause, the Apostle Paul expresses a different twist on the same ecumenical view:  “For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse.”

This, along with Paul's teaching in the Book of Acts about "the unknown God" in Athens suggest there was a common understanding among early Christians that religion was universal, even instinctive, but had a tendency to become warped into the wrong forms, such as the nature religions that were prevalent at the time. They didn't have the concept many modern religious people have of secular versus religious culture.  They believed all culture was religious.

The problem is you can’t have it both ways.  You can’t say Christianity is the only way to find God, but not having a specific understanding about Christianity isn’t an excuse. Especially when half the world was unknown to biblical writers at the time the verse was written.

So, why would Christ say something so out of character as “No one comes to the Father except through me”?

The context of the story in which Jesus makes his statement about being the way and the truth and the life is that he’s talking about going to heaven to make a place for his disciples.  Then he says, “And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going." (Italics mine).

Again, in the last sentence, there's the suggestion that you already know, that your understanding is instinctive, as Paul suggested in his letter to the Romans.  In spite of living in a culture that was far more religiously diverse than the one we have today, Jesus placed more faith in and exerted less control over his followers than do some modern day religious leaders, who freak out if they find out a member of their church has read The Shack or The Da Vinci Code.

Nevertheless, his disciple, Thomas, often known as Doubting Thomas, questions what he believes to be a misplaced trust. "Lord, we don't know where you are going, so how can we know the way?"

To me, this sounds a whole lot like, “Are we lost?  Don't you think we should stop and ask for directions?”  Think about this from a man's point-of-view.  It wouldn't be unreasonable to assume even a humble man might be a little peeved at this suggestion, and that his response might reflect that.  He might even say the very thing I consider saying when one of my kids asks me a similar question:  “If I don’t know the way, nobody does.”

This specific situation is a far cry from the generic way in which the verse has often been interpreted.  Jesus placed trust in his disciples to find their way to heaven, just as he also expressed admiration for the faith of those who weren't his followers.

There’s a danger in believing one’s religion is the only way to heaven.  I attended a women’s Bible study for years in which I was the token liberal.   These women were certain their religion was the one right religion, their political beliefs were based on God’s worldview and they were on the right track to be raptured, maybe even in this lifetime. 

Some of these ladies weren’t so sure about me.  One dropped pointed hints I ought to read the "Left Behind" series.  The problem being I take the Rapture about as seriously as I take Balloon Boy, and so the premise of the books is a bit lost on me.

Then one night, these women began describing their god.  He was unforgiving, unable to heal them from past mistakes (particularly, I inferred, those involving premarital sex or abortion), and had a vendetta against women.  I’d never known the god these women described; nor did I care to.  And so I quit the Bible study.  Months later, I read in the Genesis Creation story that it’s the devil, not God, who has a vendetta against women.

The greatest danger in religion is not that we end up in the wrong religion, but that we end up in the perfect religion following a less-than-perfect god.  Jesus must have understood this.  He accused Jewish religious leaders of being servants of their father the devil.  Now, as then, claiming your religion is the only way to God is the surest way to enable the devil to take over.