Sermon by Jane Larsen-Wigger

Crescent Hill Presbyterian Church

Seventh Sunday of Easter

May 4, 2008

John 17:1-11, 20-23, 26
Acts 1:6-14

(Before reading the Gospel...)

Today's Gospel reading comes at the very end of what is known as Jesus' "Farewell Discourse" – his final words to his disciples.  If you have one of those editions of the Bible that put all of Jesus' words in red letters then you could easily see that more than four full chapters in the book of John are devoted to Jesus' words.  His last words to his disciples. To those he loved.
 

The message, we can presume, is what Jesus most wants his disciples–us–to remember.  "The primary question of this entire section: What does the departing Christ have to say to his church?"  (Fred Craddock, John: Knox Preaching Guides; John Knox Press, 1982. p. 104)
 

And if there's one way to summarize that, it's what we've been realizing more and more around here:   "It's about relationships."  If there's one theme to this entire passage, one thing that Jesus wants to say to the church, it has to be ‘relationship.'  Jesus' relationship to the Spirit and the Parent; the disciples' relationship to Jesus, their relationships with one another; and the their  relationship to the world.   It's all about relationship.
 

That's what his whole final lecture has been about.  And now, in chapter 17, Jesus turns from talking to the disciples and instead talks about them, about us, to his Father.  And we see that this same theme is his dying prayer for us.   Interestingly, this is not a private prayer, but a public one that we get to overhear.  If you've ever had the experience of someone praying for you in your presence you know how powerful that can be.  I'm actually going to read a bit more than is acknowledged in the bulletin.  But, I'd rather you not follow along anyway, but instead be in a mode of prayerful listening as we overhear Jesus praying for us:

 John 17:1-11, 20-23, 26

It's about relationship.  That's what Christian faith, the Christian life, is about.  That's because the Christian concept of God is based in relationship.  The idea of a triune God—one God made known in three persons--makes it clear that God's very nature is relationship.   And then that three-in-one God created the world to be in relationship with, and came among us as one of us, to be in relationship with; and stays among us in Holy Spirit to remain in relationship with us.  This concept of God (as relationship) is at the very center of Christian theology.  And the Christian life.

On the front of the bulletin today is a rendering of a Celtic knot.  It's not the clearest image so for those who may have trouble making it out very well, let me describe what is there.
 

In the very center of the knot are three inter-linking threads. This represents the Trinity: Creator/Christ/Spirit.  It depicts the distinctiveness of each person and yet also their close, inter-related nature.  Jesus speaks often about the deep, intimate relationship he has with his Abba, Father, and with the Spirit whom he promises to send in his absence.  He wants us to know that the very nature of the Godhead is communion: union with; the joining of three into one.
 

This is at the center.  But, if you keep looking at that knot you can begin to see how that central triune center is simply the beginning and all kinds of "trinities" extend out from it, to make up the whole.  "In fact, no portion of the entire cord can be separated from the whole without all becoming ‘lost'" or unraveling. (Richard Eslinger, Lectionary Homiletics, Vol XIX, Number 3, April/May 2008, p. 34)

It is in this way that the ‘knot' of believers, the church, is connected – to the Trinity and, thus, like it or not, to one another.  And, in this prayer of Jesus' we learn that he thinks this unity of believers, the one-ness of the Church, isn't just some ‘nice' idea, but is essential to our life and ministry in the world.
 

Now, I confess, whenever I hear such things about the unity of the Church I have mixed reactions.  Especially in seasons like this one when I realize how at odds some of my beliefs are to other Christians. When a Permanent Judicial Commission interprets the constitution with such narrowness - and seems to re-write the intentions of a General Assembly in the meantime, I start to wonder if the unity of the church is all its cracked up to be.  And that's just the Presbyterians.  If you look at the world-wide Church of Jesus Christ it seems more defined by division than unity.  So....I have trouble when I think of this in such a way.
 

Sheesh, it's hard enough just right here to try to live out this call to one-ness.  Even among just a couple hundred people it's hard to feel like we're all of one fabric, what with our differences in attitudes, personalities, opinions.  Even unwittingly someone can say something that ends up stretching the cord to the breaking point. Because, to be as one will not always be as neat and beautiful as the image of a Celtic knot.   It is inevitable that where two or three are gathered together one or more may be hurt...or disappointed.  

But, this is where we start.  Here – at this table where we come for communion with the triune God.  To be here, for this connection with God, puts us in relationship with one another.   It is right here, in this place, with one another, that we are given the opportunity to learn something about what Jesus thinks is so essential to our life.  This whole being a Christian thing isn't just about me and Jesus.  Because, to be in relationship with Jesus, puts us in relationship with one another. He seems to think that this–this being together/learning together/growing and eating and sharing together–is our best chance of understanding at all what God—the God of relationship–is all about. Because there's nothing like inter-dependent relationships to bring us out of ourselves – open us up to others and the world.  Like the inter-related bonds in the image, these connections with one another help open us up and out.
 

Jesus says it's these kinds of relationships that will bring us what he calls eternal life.  This eternal life isn't just some promise for the here-after.  It is a fullness of life. A fullness of life like Jesus lived.  It "is more than just waiting for the end, but rather is about living in a way that develops fellowship and community." (Tim Zingale, Lectionary Homiletics, p. 26)
Something we can experience, and work on, here and now.  Here.  Now.
 

This is where we learn it.  Around this table we gather to connect with the Holy One – and find ourselves in communion with one another.  And, find God in one another.  Oh, sure, not always.  We're a bunch of insecure, basically self-centered human types after all.   And this community-stuff calls forth something from us we don't always want to give - and sometimes just can't.   But, we show up anyway.  And gather around this table—to remember.  To be re-membered with God and one another. 

In our worship practices this happens:
 

In singing together, for instance we have to listen to one another; match our pitch, tone, pace, rhythm with others.  We're made aware of our inter-relatedness, the way we are a part of a bigger whole.
 

Or in the way we share communion, we get a hint of what real communion is: it's about receiving, but also about giving.  It's about being forgiven, but also about forgiving. And it's not so much about me as about us. Not so much about what I get out of it as about what is going on that is so much bigger than me, than us.
 

Or the fact that we pray our Lord's Prayer together.  As St. Benedict would say we do this "because of the thorns of scandal [dissension] which are always cropping up so we ask forgiveness where we have ‘trespassed' against one another; and pledge ourselves to forgiveness of those who have ‘trespassed' against us.  (The Rule of St. Benedict: Chapter XIII)
 

Slowly but surely in such practices in our communal life we are ‘schooled' in the ways of God and formed into the likeness of the triune God.

And just imagine if that way of living–which develops fellowship and honors community—just imagine if that became so much who we are together that it becomes who we are in the world as well.  What if we Christians really were ‘in the world' not in the competitive, consumer-oriented way of the world, but from a posture of communion, with the sense that we are all inter-connected, knotted together from a divine center.
 

How might such a posture affect how we are present in this neighborhood?  Or relate with neighbors in the coal fields of Appalachia or down in Guatemala?  Or with other Presbyterians with whom we disagree?  Could this sense of inter-relatedness make a difference in the ways we are consumers?  In the way we live with creation?  In the way we understand the world food crisis and our dependence on fuel?  How will such a way of being in the world affect what we purchase, how we vote, who we love?  It is this sense of connectedness that Jesus so desires for us – for our own sake, but also for the sake of the world.  He's convinced that our life depends on it.