Don't All Religions Lead to God?

Most of us have driven a route we were sure was the fastest, only to learn later that another way was shorter all along. The frustrating part isn't being wrong. The frustrating part is that the wrong route *felt right* the whole time.

Proverbs 14:12 is a verse for that exact experience — but with the stakes raised. *There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to death.* The Bible isn't being dramatic. It's making a point our culture finds uncomfortable: feeling right and being right are not the same thing.

Yesterday Edwin opened John 14:6 — Jesus' claim to be "the way." Today Proverbs sets up why that claim matters. If a path that *seemed* right could end anywhere, including in death, then we needed someone to actually BE the way. Not just a guide who points. A person we can walk with.

That's the offer Jesus makes in John 14. Not "here's a path that seems good — try it." Not "all paths are basically fine if you're sincere." Something different: I am the way. Walk with me. Trust me. Let me lead.

The hardest part of receiving that offer is admitting you might be on a path that only seems right. That's not a comfortable admission. But it's the door into what Jesus actually said — and into what he came to give.

If you've been in conversations about faith for any length of time, you've probably heard something like this: "All religions basically lead to the same place. They're just different paths up the same mountain."

It sounds humble. It sounds like a way to be kind. The trouble is — that's not what Jesus said.

Read John 14:6 slowly: *Jesus said to him, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."* That's not a soft claim. It's not one option among many. He's saying he is THE way — and that no one comes to the Father any other way.

Christians have spent two thousand years either softening that or sharpening it — and often missing what it actually is: *Jesus' own statement about himself*. He didn't say "a way." He didn't say "one of the ways." He said the way.

A thing about Jesus that catches a lot of new readers off guard: he constantly makes claims this big about himself. Edwin pointed this out Sunday. Whatever else you decide about Jesus, you have to decide what to do with what he said about himself. There is no version of the historical Jesus who said "all paths are fine."

Today's invitation isn't to argue. It's to receive. Read the verse out loud. Notice what it asks of you — not "agree with me," but "follow me." That's a different kind of receiving than checking a box. It's a step you take.

When the Bible repeats itself, it's usually because we're prone to miss the point.

Proverbs 16:25 is, to put it bluntly, a copy-paste. The exact same verse already appeared in Proverbs 14:12, just two chapters earlier: *There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to death.*

Hebrew wisdom literature uses repetition as emphasis. When something matters this much, the sages didn't trust us to catch it on the first read. So they printed it again.

What might Proverbs be making sure we don't miss? That it is entirely possible to walk a wrong path with full confidence. That sincerity is not the same as truth. That sometimes the most loving thing the Bible can do for us is repeat itself until we slow down and listen.

Edwin's sermon Sunday turned this same key. Jesus' claim to be the way in John 14:6 isn't the church being intolerant. It's the answer to a question Proverbs was asking centuries before Jesus stood in that upper room. The question is real. The danger is real. And the way out is a person, not a path.

So today, ask the Spirit to slow you down. Where in your life are you walking confidently in a direction the Bible would gently say twice — *that way that seems right is not the way that is right*? Not as a guilt trip. As a kindness. The God who repeated himself in Proverbs is also the one who came to be the way out.

Holding what Jesus said about himself — that he is THE way — feels like it should make conversations harder, not easier. If "all paths lead to God" is the cultural script, then claiming Jesus is *the* way sets you up to look closed-minded.

Peter saw this coming. Writing to a Christian community surrounded by religions and philosophies that disagreed with theirs, he gave them a tool: *but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect.*

Read that last phrase again. Gentleness. Respect.

*A reason for the hope* — that's the content. Be ready to talk about why you believe what you believe. Not as someone who's been backed into an argument, but as someone who's already thought about it and can share it without panic.

*Gentleness and respect* — that's the manner. Not "I'm right and you're wrong." More like "this is what's true for me — and I think it's true for you too — and I'd love to talk about it if you're up for that."

The way to share an exclusive truth isn't to be exclusionary. It's to be the kind of person who, by the time you say something hard, has earned enough trust that the hardness doesn't ricochet.

Who in your life knows you follow Jesus by your *words* AND your *warmth* — not just one or the other? Today, ask God to make you that kind of presence to one person. Not by performing. Just by being ready.

A way that doesn't lead anywhere isn't really a way. It's a treadmill.

Jesus' claim to be the way (John 14:6) isn't an end in itself. It's a way to somewhere — to the Father, to a Father's house with many rooms, to safety. That's why Proverbs 18:10 is such a fitting closer for this week: *The name of the LORD is a strong tower; the righteous man runs into it and is safe.*

The exclusive way Edwin preached Sunday isn't a narrow door for its own sake. It's a door to refuge.

A lot of us, when we hear "Jesus is the way," only hear the *way* part. The directional language. The exclusivity. We forget there's a destination — and that the destination is the part that makes the journey worth taking.

The strong tower in Proverbs 18 is a place for the weary. For people who are tired of being chased by something. People who need a place to be safe — not just for a night, but for good.

When have you needed Jesus to be a strong tower, not just a teacher? A presence, not just a principle? A place to actually rest, not just a set of right ideas?

Tomorrow you have an opportunity to gather with the family of faith and remember the destination together. As you head into Sunday, let this be the prayer: not just *Jesus, lead me*, but *Jesus, you are the place I'm running to today*.