Today is the last Sunday for the year that will have “Easter” as part of its name. But our Easter Season isn’t actually over until next week, the Day of Pentecost. Then for the last time our first lesson will be from the Acts of the Apostles – when the Resurrection becomes, if you will, “full blown” with the gift of the Spirit.
For most of the Easter Season, in addition to having all the first lessons from Acts, our second readings have been from the book of Revelation – sometimes called the Apocalypse of John – and, on most Sundays, Gospel readings from John’s Gospel.
Next week and for all those many Sundays after Pentecost, we will return to readings from Luke’s Gospel.
So, today, let’s savor this last dip into John’s Gospel. It’s fitting, as we get near the end of the Easter season, that we hear the final verses of what is called Jesus’ Farewell Address. This address stretches from chapter 13 all the way to the end of chapter 17.
Chapter 18 begins John’s account of the passion of Jesus.
Today’s reading is the summation of what is the theme of John’s Gospel: it is good news that Jesus is no longer among us. If Jesus hadn’t departed, we wouldn’t have his words, his abundant feast, and the gift of his Spirit. Now, because Jesus is gone, we have a new identity, a new family, and a new community.
Of course, John’s point – yes, it’s confusing and contradictory – is that those three gifts are how Jesus is present with us right now. In this absent-but-yet-present Jesus, we see the image and the substance of a God of love who created and continues to create all of life. And, because Jesus is present with us, we have this love that enlivens and sustains all existence.
But how do we experience that love today? How do we let Jesus’ presence shape and sustain our lives?
In today’s Gospel reading, we hear that Jesus is praying for us. Significantly, Jesus concludes his long farewell address with what some have called his High Priestly Prayer. Jesus prays to God to keep our name before God. Jesus keeps reminding God – and reminding us – that we are his siblings, that we are one with him.
In today’s Gospel, we also hear that Jesus is giving us his glory. This word glory is mentioned 18 times in John’s 21 chapters, and it is called out twice in these six verses. This is the “glory” that we’ve heard about from the beginning of John’s Gospel. It is glory of the Jesus’ hour on the cross, when Jesus gives up his life and is lifted up to the Father. Jesus gives us this death so that we might have eternal life: life that begins anew every day and is self-renewing.
In today’s Gospel, we hear that Jesus gives us a mission. That mission is to repeat the words that we have heard so that others might trust this promise of eternal life. John’s Gospel was written to urge his community to keep gathering for the Eucharist and practicing Baptism as way to grow that beloved community. And so we see huge vats of wine and gushing water that literally overflow into the lives of others.
Hearing Jesus pray for us, to be lifted up on the cross with him, to take part in his mission are all ways that we deal with what we see in our first two lessons.
In Acts, we see that being part of the Easter mission gets Paul and Silas in prison. In Revelation, we hear a tale about the destruction of Babylon, which was a coded way to talk about the persecution, oppression, and corruption of the Roman Empire at the end of the first century.
Our own situation today doesn’t seem that far from what took place in Acts or Revelation.
You and I are watching the sledgehammering of knowledge, institutions, and resources that enable our economy and our culture to thrive. Threats to our health, safety, and security seem to grow daily. Many of us are terrified about how all of this going to end – and whether it will even be possible to put everything back together when this nightmare ends.
Our reading from Revelation encourages us – in the midst of our despair, anxiety, and – yes – anger to wait in hope and expectation. We can trust that these times of travail are not the end, but rather the beginning. We are invited – as Jesus prays for us – to repeat what many believe is the first Christian prayer: Maranatha, Come Lord Jesus.
Bathed in God’s abundant love and surrounded by this community, we can be clear-headed and strong hearted.
That means that we can – with appropriate moderation – read and watching the news. Staying informed is an act of resistance.
We can also speak up without fear, perhaps joining those who send a message every day to their members of Congress. Our individual voices become stronger when joined with others as we call for an end to cruelty and stupidity.
And, in this time when revenge and bullying are pushed in our faces, we can act with kindness and compassion. Perhaps never before in our lives have the smallest measures – saying hello to neighbors, contributing funds to food banks, distributing information about immigrant rights – have had such a huge impact.
Let’s be clear, we are doing these things not to save ourselves, not to make us more worthy of God’s love. We have that love – as fully qualified members of God’s family, as cherished parts of God’s creation. It is Jesus’ absolute and unconditional gift to us.
That’s exactly why we shouldn’t be surprised – and we should give thanks – that we can’t help but be involved in sharing that love with others, preserving God’s creation, and protecting all those in God’s family.
The church, for all its failings, has always been marked by welcoming the stranger, healing the sick, and feeding the hungry. Because we are joined with Christ, we are always doing what he did. Thanks be to God. Amen.