3. May 2026, John 14:1-20. Intentional Comfort.

In the middle of this month, I’ll be traveling to Korea with ten delegates as part of the mission partnership between the Synod and PROK Iksan Presbytery in Korea. There’s only one reason I’m in this group: because I speak Korean very, very well.

But since I’ve been away for many years, I still feel like I’m somewhere in the middle, hovering. I often say: Australia is my father’s land. Korea is my mother’s land. One gave me life. The other raised me.

Whenever I book a flight, I start making my lists: comfort food, people to meet, places to visit. The hardest part? The preaching invitations. Without fail, every single time, someone invites me to preach at their church. Now, some ministers love that, but I just want to rest.

So I found a way to say no politely….. I don’t pack a suit. I don’t pack RM Williams dress shoes. “Oh… I am so sorry, I have no suit and no shoes! But if you insist, I'm happy to share my sizes. Shall we?

But there is one place I really want to visit. Do you know where that is? It’s the university where I graduated, my seminary. I know what you're thinking: “Really? Are you going for more study?” But for me, that place isn’t just a school. It’s my spiritual home. It was my incubator.

Just imagine: a nineteen-year-old boy, fresh from a small town, stepping into a seminary in the heart of Seoul. Everyone around me seemed extraordinary, dedicating their lives to God. Class of ’95. Looking around, they were all highly gifted, playing the piano and guitar like professionals, others singing like opera stars. Some were already preaching like lions! Compared to them… there I was, completely ordinary. Inside, I thought, “Have I come to the wrong place? Do I even belong here?”

Back then, I heard people say, “I’m praying for you” a million times. I wasn’t always happy to hear it. But now? I realize how much I actually miss it.

The world called us “Seminary students", but we called each other “co-workers in ministry". We were just nineteen or around that age. What did we know? But that place wasn’t about getting grades or finding a job. We spent nights debating theology, crying in prayer, and sharing and eating together.

We spent four years in college, three years in the army, and three years in practical ministry. We spent our entire twenties inside that community. My case might be a little different, but usually we spend more than ten years together in that circle. We show up for each other, for funerals, for weddings, for everything. So in a way, our hearts never really left that campus. It’s because we dreamed the same dream and walked the same journey together. We used to say “To love our 95 classmates is to love God.”

There’s one moment I will never forget. I had just returned from three years in the army. I was back on campus. It felt so good. Freedom! But there was also the sadness of being a returning student. I came back, but my friends hadn’t returned yet, and suddenly I was “the old guy.” The new students would avoid me. I guess I smelled like a soldier.

One day, after lunch, I was sitting alone on a bench on campus, having vending machine coffee, quietly processing three years of disconnection. A middle-aged man came and sat down beside me. He was probably around my age. He asked, “Are you a student? What year are you?” He introduced himself as a military chaplain. He was just passing by and visiting.

He quietly began to share his story. He came from a non-Christian family. When he decided to become a minister, he faced strong opposition. His family cut off… all financial support. No support. Every day was a struggle with hunger and sorrow.

One day, he reached his breaking point. “This is it. I’m going to have to give up.” And then, out of nowhere, someone walked up to him and placed a white envelope into his hand, saying simply, “Go eat,” and walked away.

Inside the envelope was a little money and some meal vouchers for the campus cafeteria.

He told me he didn’t cry because of the money. He cried because… he felt that God was watching over him. That comfort, right to the bone, was what carried him through. He said that whenever he needs comfort, he remembers that day.

Then he stood up and said, “Sorry, I’ve talked too much.” And he pressed something into my hand, saying, “This isn’t from me. It’s from God, so just take it.”

It was a white envelope. I was so stunned I couldn’t even say thank you properly. I just watched him walk away.

I wasn’t starving, not the way his generation was. But the envelope in my hand was more than just lunch money. It was God’s comfort, passed down through time, from one unknown person to another, and finally to me. Because of this memory, that’s why I want to go back.

Here is the one problem… Dana doesn’t really like this story. She checks my pockets before I go!

While I might be there to comfort someone else, the truth is that I am the one receiving comfort. Most of the time, I’m the one doing the comforting. But I am also just a person who needs it.

In John chapter 14 this morning, we see two people who were desperate for comfort: Thomas and Philip. We don’t know why it was specifically these two, but Jesus begins by saying, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” They were in a long conversation with Jesus, filled with anxiety, a sense of loss, loneliness, and confusion. This wasn’t just a simple “cheer up.”

Out of the twenty-one chapters in the Gospel of John, an entire chapter is dedicated to this one conversation. It tells us there is a very important message.

Some might say it’s because of this: “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” Yes, when we hear this, we feel like we should grab a megaphone and shout it on a street corner. And it’s true, He is the only way. But let’s look at chapter 14 a little deeper. We realize something surprising: this isn’t a lecture. It’s not a doctrine or a strong mission statement. Rather, it is a real, comforting conversation among them.

Let’s think about what happened just before this. In chapter 13, Jesus washed His disciples’ feet. They had their last meal together. It was uncomfortable and strange. Jesus said, “One of you will betray me,” and Judas walked out. Peter declared, “Lord, I’ll lay down my life for you!” But Jesus replied, “No, you will deny me three times.” The room was heavy.

Jesus was talking about leaving, the cross, and death. In the middle of all this darkness, Thomas and Philip, who were curious and sensitive, were troubled. That is why it begins, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”

I believe we have to read chapter 14 with this context in mind. There is a specific tone, a specific “breath” in every word Jesus speaks. And when Thomas and Philip reply, they aren’t being bold or challenging. Their voices are trembling with sadness and anxiety.

Imagine Jesus and His two friends sitting in a café. Today. 2026. The morning after all that pain from last night. Coffee on the table.

Jesus: (Sets down His coffee. Looks at them both slowly, gently.) “Hey. Don’t let your hearts be troubled. You trust God—trust Me too.”

Thomas: (Tearing a napkin apart, voice shaking) “Jesus… honestly? After last night? Judas walked out. You said Peter’s going to deny You three times. And now You’re telling us You’re leaving—and we can’t come with You? What are we supposed to do with that?”

Jesus: (Quietly) “Thomas, I’m going ahead to get a place ready for you. When it’s ready, I’m coming back. You know the way.”

Thomas: “We don’t even know where You’re going! How can we know the way? Just give us the address—something to hold onto.”

Jesus: (Takes Thomas’s hand, very quietly) “Thomas, you’re looking for a map. But I’m not giving you a map. I’m giving you Me……. I am the way. I am the truth. I am the life. Walk with Me, and you’re already home.”

(Philip leans forward, desperate.)

Philip: “Jesus, then just show us the Father. Once. That’s all we need.”

Jesus: (Long, gentle breath) “Philip… three years. We’ve eaten together, walked together, done everything together. When you look at Me, you are seeing the Father. That moment I washed your feet—that wasn’t just Me. That was the Father’s heart, loving you through Me. Everything I’ve done, it has been Him, working through Me.”

(Pause)

“And listen, I promise you this. I’m not leaving you as orphans. I’m sending the Holy Spirit. He will come to you and stay with you forever.”

(Jesus stands, looks at them both.)

“And before I go, here’s My gift to you: peace. Not the kind the world offers, real peace. So breathe. Don’t be afraid my friends”

(Picks up the bill.)“Okay. Time to go. This one’s on Me.”

This is exactly how the conversation went. Jesus set… His heart is on comforting them. So, Chapter 14 isn't a command to 'go and make disciples'; it's a comfort to us.

Especially, I love this part: “I’ll go first and wait for you. I’ll get everything ready. I am the way, the truth, and the life. If you’re still anxious, just wait, I’m sending the Holy Spirit so you won’t feel like orphans…. Is that not enough? Then here is a truly wonderful gift: I give you My peace, a peace the world can never give.”  

It’s seen in a whole new light.

Every human being needs comfort. Needing comfort doesn’t mean we’re weak. It means we’re alive. If someone says they never need comfort, that’s like saying they don’t need God’s love.  Needing comfort is a confession: “I need God.”

My dear friends, today is a Sunday of Comfort. The title is this: “Intentional Comfort.”

And here is something we often forget: even Jesus needed comfort that night. He really did. But in that deep loneliness, He decides to comfort them. Why? Because by comforting them, He was actually being comforted by the Father….

Comfort isn’t one-way. It’s a holy connection—between God and us, and between us and each other. We share warmth, and something sacred passes between us.

So the message today is simple. Let uss invite Jesus into every corner of our lives. Let us give thanks that the Jesus of comfort dwells within us. Let us rejoice in Jesus, who has set His heart on comforting us.

When you need comfort, be Philip, be Thomas, and talk it out with Jesus in Chapter 14.  

And then, let’s let that comfort flow out to the people around us. When Jesus looks down at this messy world, I am sure it comforts him. His heart to see us doing exactly that.

Let me share one more thing. Last Tuesday, I heard very sad news. A dear professor of mine, Rev. Dr. Jione Havea, passed away suddenly. As you can tell by his name, he was originally from Tonga. A wave of mourning has been spreading for days. It is a huge loss for the Uniting Church.

My connection with him started in my very first Old Testament class as an international student. Back then, my first essay was a total disaster. Sure enough, he called me the next day and gave me an extension, 2 weeks. Then he called me again a few days after with an unbelievable offer. He said, “Do Young, if it’s too hard to write in English, just write it in Korean. I just need you to turn it …in two days before the deadline."I was so happy! At the time, I wondered why two days early. I found out later. He could send my paper to a Korean professor to have it properly evaluated.

When I went to his office to thank him, he told me, “I went through the exact same thing during my PhD in Texas. As a Tongan student, my supervisor gave me that same comfort. “You’re doing great. This is just a matter of English. It’s not a problem with your thinking or your theology.”

The comfort he gave me that day still lives in my heart. This is exactly what Jesus is doing for us today. He takes the perfect love and comfort. He received from the Father God, and intentionally places it into our hands. And He says, “Do not worry or be afraid. I am the way. I am the truth. I am the life. I won’t leave you. I give you My peace….”

It’s a secret from Dana, but I am going to visit my spiritual home, the seminary. I think I may find someone to comfort there. And in doing so, I will be comforted once again.

Dear friends,

Do you need comfort today? You’ve come to exactly the right place. Do you want to give comfort to someone? You’ve also come to exactly the right place. Where comfort is shared, the Lord is there.

Receive the comfort of heaven. God loves you, and He comforts you. Let that comfort flow through you, and let’s comfort the heart of God together.

Amen.

May the peace of Christ, which is deeper than our fears and stronger than our doubts, rest gently upon your hearts.

May the love of God the Father, who sees you, knows you, and comforts you,surround you in every season of life.

And may the presence of the Holy Spirit, who never leaves you as an orphan,walk with you, dwell within you, and guide you home.

Go now in peace—to receive comfort, to give comfort,a nd to become a living sign of God’s tender heart in this world.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.