There’s a line in John’s Gospel that gets quoted a lot: “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” It’s the kind of statement that either comforts you, confuses you, or sets your teeth on edge. But there’s no mistaking the bluntness of it: Jesus claims the only road to God leads right through him.
For some, that feels exclusive, even arrogant. Why just one way? What about all the good people, the kind people, the deeply spiritual people whose roads don’t happen to wind toward Jesus of Nazareth? Isn’t it narrow, or even unfair, to claim heaven hinges on a single figure from a tiny corner of the ancient world?
I get the discomfort — but maybe it’s worth considering what kind of person makes a claim like that in the first place. Jesus didn’t speak in riddles when it came to this point. He didn’t say, “Try hard, do your best, and maybe we’ll meet at the top.” He said his life, his death, and his resurrection open the only door that leads home.
If that strikes us as harsh, it’s only because we’re used to living in a world of options and alternatives, menu screens and endless scrolling. Yet we rarely question absolutes in other areas of life. When you board a plane from New York to London, there’s only one flight path the pilot can take. Water boils at 100°C at sea level; no negotiation. Why do we expect eternity to work like a choose-your-own-adventure story?
But here’s the thing: Jesus isn’t offering a list of rules to follow or a philosophy to adopt. He’s inviting us into a relationship. Christianity isn’t about earning enough spiritual points to unlock the gates of heaven. It’s about trusting someone who claims he can get you there — not because you’re good enough, but because you know you need help.
Think about the cross. Every religion has its set of rules, its ladder to climb. Jesus is the only leader who says, “You won’t make it — so I’ll come down and carry you.” The point isn’t just forgiveness for what we’ve done wrong; it’s new life, the kind you can’t manufacture no matter how hard you try. That’s why the “only way” isn’t a barrier — it’s a gift, handed to anyone humble enough to reach out for it.
Some may argue that believing Jesus is the only way is intolerant. But in reality, it’s radically inclusive. The offer is open to everyone. There’s no room for pride or one-upmanship, no inner circle based on tribe, status, or effort. All that’s required is trust. Not checking off a list, not climbing some mountain of achievement — just trust.
So, is Jesus really the only way to heaven? If he is who he says he is, then there isn’t any other road that could really get you there. If he’s not, then none of it matters anyway. But if the claims are true, then the most loving thing anyone can do is point others to the door — and invite them to walk through it.
Faith in Jesus isn’t a blind leap; it’s a step onto ground that generations have found steady beneath their feet. The arms stretched on the cross are wide enough for anyone willing to come. The way is open. The door is unlocked. And it’s not just a path to somewhere else — it’s the way home.