John 14:28 - Meaning and Application

Christ gives his disciples another reason not to let their hearts be troubled by his going away: his own heart was not troubled. He also shows them what enabled him to endure the cross and despise the shame, so they could look to him and run with patience. He comforted himself in several ways.

First, though he was going away, he would come again. “You have heard me say it, and now I say it again, I go away and come again.” We need to hear Christ’s teaching again and again, especially about his second coming. When grief, fear, or worry takes over, we easily forget that Christ will return (Philippians 4:5). Christ used this hope to strengthen himself in suffering and death, and it should comfort us when we part from loved ones at death. We go away to come again, and that parting is only a good night, not a final goodbye (1 Thessalonians 4:13, 14).

Second, he was going to his Father. If the disciples truly loved him, they should rejoice instead of mourning, because he said, “I go to the Father,” who is both his Father and theirs. That would be his promotion and their gain, because he would be with the Father to care for them and speak for sinners. His leaving had a bright side as well as a dark side. That is why, after his resurrection, he sent this comforting message: “I ascend to my Father and your Father” (John 20:17).

The reason this is good news is that “my Father is greater than I.” If this is proof for the point Christ is making, it likely means that his condition with the Father would be far more glorious than his present one. His return to the Father would lift him to a much higher state than the one he was then in. Or it may mean that his going to the Father, and bringing all his followers there too, was the goal of his whole work, so the end was greater than the means. In this way Christ lifts his disciples’ thoughts and hopes above the small happiness they had imagined for themselves. The kingdom of the Father, where God will be all in all, will be greater than the mediatorial kingdom, the kingdom through which Christ now rules as the mediator between God and people.

Christ’s disciples should show their love for him by rejoicing in the glory of his exaltation, not mainly by grieving over the sorrows of his humiliation. They should be glad that he has gone to his Father, where he belongs, and where we will soon be with him. Many people who love Christ let that love move in the wrong direction. They think loving him means staying in pain over him all the time. But those who love him should find rest in him and rejoice in Christ Jesus.

Third, his going away would help confirm his disciples’ faith when it happened, because he had told them beforehand (John 14:29). He had told them he must die, rise again, ascend to the Father, and send the Comforter, so that when it all came to pass, they would believe. See also John 13:19 and John 16:4. Christ told them about his death even though he knew it would confuse and grieve them, because afterward it would strengthen their faith in two ways.

It would show that he who foretold these things had divine foreknowledge, meaning he knew ahead of time what would happen. When Paul was going to Jerusalem, he did not know what would happen there, but Christ did. It would also show that these events were part of God’s plan and purpose, not sudden decisions, but the outworking of an eternal counsel. So they should not be troubled by what would actually become a help to their faith and a real benefit to them. The testing of our faith is precious, even when it brings sorrow for a time through many trials (1 Peter 1:6).

Fourth, Christ was sure he would defeat Satan, with whom he knew he would struggle in his departure (John 14:30). “I will not talk much more with you,” he said, not because he had little left that mattered, but because much of what remained could wait until the Spirit was poured out. He did speak at length after this, in chapters 15 and 16, but compared with all he had already said, it was not much. His time was short, so he spoke fully while he could. We should always try to speak with purpose, because we may not have much time to speak at all. We do not know how soon our breath may stop, so we should always be saying something good. And when sickness or death comes, we may not be able to speak much to those around us. So whatever good counsel we have, we should give it while we are still well.

One reason he would not talk much was that he had other work to do: “The prince of this world comes.” He had already called the devil the prince of this world (John 12:31). The disciples may have imagined their Master was the prince of this world, and that they were worldly princes under him. But Christ tells them that the prince of this world was his enemy, and so were the world’s rulers when they were driven by him (Colossians 2:8). Yet he has nothing in me.

Here we see, first, the coming conflict Christ faced, not only with men but with the powers of darkness. The devil had already attacked him with temptations in Matthew 4 and had offered him the kingdoms of the world if he would hold them under Satan’s rule. That is why Christ speaks of him with scorn as the prince of this world. Then the devil left him for a season, but now Christ sees him gathering again, ready to attack fiercely. Since he could not win by temptation, he tries fear. The foresight of temptation gives us a great advantage in resisting it, because warning should lead to preparation. While we are here, we may see Satan continually coming against us, so we should always stay on guard.

Second, Christ was sure of victory in the conflict. “He has nothing in me,” that is, he has nothing at all. There was no guilt in Christ that could give the prince of this world any right to frighten him. The devil is said to have the power of death (Hebrews 2:14), and the Jews called him the angel of death, like an executioner. Since Christ had done no evil, Satan had no legal claim over him. So, although Satan could push him toward the cross, he could not push him into terror. He could bring him to death, but not to despair. When Satan troubles us, he has something in us to work with, because we have all sinned. But when he came against Christ, he found no ground at all.

There was no sin in Christ for the ruler of this world to take advantage of in his temptations. Satan could not wreck Christ’s mission by leading him into sin, because there was nothing sinful in him. There was no fault, no weakness, no hidden spark for temptation to catch. His nature was so pure that he was beyond the possibility of sinning. The more Satan’s hold on us is broken and fades, the more calmly we should expect suffering and death.

Christ’s departure also came in submission to, and obedience to, his Father. Satan could not take his life from him, yet he chose to die: “so that the world may know that I love the Father” (John 14:31). We can understand this in two ways. First, it confirms what he had often said, that his work as Mediator, the one who stands between God and people, showed the world his agreement with the Father. It showed that he loved the Father. Just as his death proved his love for people, because he died for their salvation, so it proved his love for God, because he died for God’s glory and to carry out God’s plan. The world should know that the Father and the Son do not love each other less because of this. The Father loved the Son and gave all things into his hands, and the Son loved the Father and gave his spirit into the Father’s hand.

It also showed his obedience to the Father: “As the Father gave me commandment, so I did,” meaning he did the commanded work in the way commanded. The clearest sign of our love for the Father is that we do what he has commanded us. As Christ loved the Father and obeyed him, even to death, so we must love Christ and obey him. Christ kept his eye on the Father’s command to suffer and die, and that strengthened him with joy and overcame the natural shrinking of human flesh. This removed the shame of the cross, because what he did was by the Father’s order. The command of God is enough to support us in what other people may dispute, and it should be enough to strengthen us in what is hardest for us ourselves: this is the will of the One who made me and sent me.

With that, he ended the matter. “So that the world may know that I love the Father.” You will see how willingly I can meet the appointed cross: “Arise, let us go from here,” some take this as meaning to the garden, or to Jerusalem. When we speak of trouble from far away, it is easy to say, “Lord, I will follow you wherever you go.” But when the test comes, and an unavoidable cross stands in the way of duty, then to say, “Arise, let us go to meet it,” instead of trying to slip around it, shows the world that we love the Father. If this conversation was at the end of the Passover supper, it seems that at these words he rose from the table and moved into another room, where he could speak more freely with his disciples in the next chapters and pray with them.

Dr. Goodwin noted that when Christ mentioned the main reason for his suffering, his Father’s command, he hurried to go out and suffer and die, as if he feared losing the time of Judas’s meeting with him. “Arise,” he says, “let us go from here,” but then, as if he looked at a clock and saw there was still time, he sat down again and preached another sermon. In these words, he gives his disciples encouragement to follow him. He does not say, “I must go,” but, “Let us go.” He calls them to nothing harder than what he himself goes before them to do as their leader. They had promised not to abandon him, so he says, “Come, then, let us go and see whether you will keep your word.”

He also gives them an example. He teaches them to hold loosely to everything in this world, especially in times of suffering, and often to think and speak of leaving it. Even when we are resting comfortably and enjoying sweet fellowship, we must not think we will stay here forever. “Arise, let us go from here.” If this was said at the close of the Passover and Lord’s Supper, it teaches us that the outward forms of communion with God are not meant to be permanent in this world. When we sit under Christ’s shadow with delight and say, “It is good to be here,” we still must think of rising and going on, coming down from the mountain.