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I recently had an appointment at a large hospital, and as usual, finding the clinic turned into something of an event in itself. Hospitals have an extraordinary ability to make a reasonably intelligent person feel completely incapable of following basic directions. We entered through one set of doors, followed a corridor, turned a corner and found ourselves confronted by several more corridors, all of which looked remarkably similar.
Fortunately, there were signs. Every so often, there would be another one pointing towards the clinic we needed. We would walk for a while, begin to wonder whether we had somehow gone wrong, and then another sign would appear, reassuring us that we were still heading in the right direction. The process repeated itself through what felt like an endless maze of wards, departments, waiting areas and corridors.
Eventually, though, we discovered something important. You had to keep paying attention. If you walked past the clinic itself, the signs stopped. There was no helpful notice fifty yards further down the corridor saying, You have gone too far. Turn around.
The signs had done their job. They had brought you to the place they were pointing towards.
I found myself thinking about that recently while reading John’s Gospel, because John has an interesting way of describing the extraordinary things Jesus does.
He calls them signs.
