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Seventh Sunday after Easter

John 17
10 All mine are yours, and yours are mine; and I have been glorified in them.
11 And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.


There’s a stage near the beginning of life when you imagine that the world revolves around you, that when you leave the room the people you leave behind freeze until you reenter.

There’s a stage in life where you feel completely alone, that the world outside has forgotten you, or worse, never knew you were there.

There’s a stage where you pick and choose your relationships, aware that some make you feel more like the real you and others do not.

Finally, there’s a stage where you accept that you are you, and others are not you, and because you know this, you are better able to love them and forgive them.

You will notice that each stage is unique in how we meet others. In the first, they are our playthings; later they are a threat; then they help define us; and at the last, they live beside us. They are no longer plaything, or threat, or definer, but another child of God.

In the nativity, the world existes more as a tableau than a real situation, and Jesus is the centrepiece, an adoring world frozen around him, time stopped.

In the desert, Jesus is tempted to by the adversary through long conversation and elaborate promises, but is mostly alone, forty days and forty nights, which always means ‘a very long time.’

In his ministry, there were always people who could not follow: the rich young ruler is the best example, but there were entire towns that became shaken dust on the road to the next place, the next set of potential friends.

And at the end, Jesus could only pray. He prayed that his followers be unified, and kept safe, and learn to love and forgive one another for the sake of themselves and the world.

You will notice that each stage is unique in how Jesus meets others. In the first, they are pieces in an elaborate crèche; then they are gone, leaving only the adversary; then people help define him, or at least define his mission in the world; and finally he prays for them, and for us.

***

John’s Gospel is one part introduction and two parts conclusion. It begins at the moment of creation and it ends with a little grilled fish, just Jesus and his friends. And in between the Word made flesh and the shore of Lake Gennesaret, there are many signs, and many wonders, all of which point to Jesus’ relationship to God and Jesus’ relationship to you and me.

And John 17, where we pause today, is a chapter of prayer. Jesus prays that cross and resurrection will demonstrate God’s glory, that eternal life will be known. He prays that the certainty his disciples know through this direct relationship with God will continue, and he prays that God keep them safe.

***

People say it is a comfort knowing that others are praying for you. As a minister, I can tell you that it brings great comfort knowing that people pray for their ministers and wish them well in their vocation. And when we pray in this place, for people in need, I make a point of mentioning it to them the next time we meet. It brings comfort.

If I was going to make a summary, then, I would say simply that prayer brings comfort. We can call this the least mysterious aspect of prayer: that prayer brings comfort. This is not to diminish it somehow, but to acknowledge that it is something anyone can do and anyone can understand.

And it works on reverse too. We gain comfort when we pray for others, or when we express thanks to God, or when we quietly ask God for help. But the act of praying for others, in particular, serves to strengthen our bond to them, and to somehow strengthen the fabric of the universe. And how could it not? The act of prayer creates a bond that lives beyond normal interaction. It opens a third dimension to our relationships, and invites God to enter.

People say it is a comfort knowing that others are praying for you. And I would argue it is a necessity, because human life is something best not attempted alone, something that requires the care and attention of others, something that requires prayer.

***

That Jordan River water I mentioned, a gift to Grayson from Sylvia, appeared quite suddenly on my desk in the middle of the week. It was too small to be a bottle of drinking water, something that we banned from the United Church long ago, and it was helpfully labeled, “not for drinking, for religious purposes only.” Always good to read the fine print.

If we ponder for just a moment the connection we made, baptizing Grayson in the same water that Jesus was baptized in, and in the same water that countless pilgrims were baptized in through the ages, and the same water that modern pilgrims have received and carried off to the far corners of the world, it is hard not to be astounded. Add to that all the people, young and old, who were baptised here at the corner of King and Weston Road, over the last 190 years, it is hard not to be astounded. And add to that the everlasting connection you and I now have with Grayson, and the varied times and places where we were baptized, and it is hard not to be astounded.

And even more astounding are the words that Jesus prays on this very topic: “All mine are yours, God, and yours are mine…protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.”

There is a stage, before font and table, and gathered believers, when we imagine we are the centre of things.

There is a stage in life where we feel completely alone, sometimes even in church, unsure how we relate even to the people closest to us.

There is a stage where you approach the font, as millions have before, understanding that is not about who gets to heaven and who doesn’t, but about the relationships formed when we enter into a new life in Christ.

Finally, there’s a stage where you understand that you are a child of God, surrounded by other children of God, and you understand the call to pray for one another, love one another, and forgive one another. It is the stage where we realize that our prayers are also Christ’s prayers and he intercedes for us in a mysterious way we cannot begin to understand. And it is a stage that brings comfort, for us and others, now and always, Amen.

posted by michael jacob kooiman @ 5:31 AM