Lectionary Readings for Sunday, April 27, 2008
Sixth Sunday of Easter
Acts 17:22-31
Psalm 66:8-20
1 Peter 3:13-22
John 14:15-21
Let us speak of agency in a time of loss.
The words need not be many. But their tone must be one of unmistakable eloquence. When the times for consolation arise, what we say must lovingly convey what has been, what is, and what will be with an unforgettable economy of expression. Life will not be trifled with. Neither loss, nor hope, is to be denied. We must shy away from speeches or sermons which have a point to make. We refer to Lincoln's words at Gettysburg an address, not a speech. The words Jesus speaks to the disciples in today's Lectionary are also referred to as an address. Once spoken, they frame just who Jesus has been, who the disciples are to be, and how the Spirit's arrival will bless the lives of all that follows.
The presence of both connection and coherence reminds me of a story within the life of my family. It too is a story of both loss and consolation. Nearly a century ago, in northern Wisconsin, on the shore of Lake Superior, an eight year-old child succumbed to scarlet fever. Neither prayer nor medicine could take the fever away. Finally, with my grandfather at his side, he slipped away. Slowly, carefully, my grandfather walked down the stairs, looked at my grandmother, and said, “Helen, we've had him.”
The time for consolation had arrived, just as it would soon arrive for the disciples. The Jesus they knew would soon depart and they would never see him again in the same way. He might appear, for a while here and a while there, but remarkable as the appearances would not be, life would not be the same. Knowing this, and knowing that loss without consolation can sometimes remove us from life, Jesus anticipates their sorrow and bids farewell by sharing the truth of his life.
It was a truth that could only be grasped in the plural.
If they have known God, they have known Jesus. If they have known Jesus they have known God. If they have known each other, they have known what it is to walk with God. If they have known what it is to be present for a moment, they will soon know the profound blessing of an abiding presence that doesn't go away.
Yes, they would know sadness, there will not be loneliness. The disciples would not be abandoned despite Jesus' absence. Neither would they be orphaned because what is being given to them cannot be taken away. The gifts of community turn out to have remarkable staying power. Neither will chaos prevail. To keep it at bay here are commandments to be kept, and they are the commandments of love. Jesus will leave but the Advocate, or Comforter, will arrive. It is God's work; it is Christ's promise; it is the Spirit's presence. Where one begins and another ends is a matter of mystery. The story is one of astonishing mutuality. It is, after all, a love story. In the last verse the word love is used not once or twice but four times.
Like all love stories, it asks us to do something and to receive something. That “something” is life itself. “Because I live, you will also live,” says Jesus. This living will not always be easy. There will be losses, as the poet William Stafford writes, that are too terrible to understand. God knows this; Jesus knows this too, and asks us to rely upon the Advocate. There is a reason six verses of Gospel consolation are paired with 12 verses from Psalm 66 that speak of deliverance from adverse circumstance.
Let us then let the text do its talking:
John 14:15-21
If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you for ever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you.
I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you. In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live. On that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you. They who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me; and those who love me will be loved by my Father, and I will love them and reveal myself to them.
And then let's let the Psalmist nail it down. It is God who keeps us among the living. And it is the very same God who brings into difficult places.
Bless our God, O peoples, let the
sound of God's praise be heard,
who has kept us among the
living, and has not let our feet slip.
For you, O God, have tested us;
you have tried us as silver is tried.
You brought us into the net;
you laid burdens on our backs;
you let people ride over our heads;
we went through fire
and through water;
yet you have brought us out
to a spacious place.
Blessed be God, because God
has not rejected my prayer
or removed God's steadfast
love from me.
Once again life carries us through.
“Helen, we've had him,” my grandfather said. They did what people do when the time for consolation arrives. They turned to their church, to their faith, and to life. They planted a maple at Jack's grave, and gave a baptismal font to the Episcopal Church in his name. A century later, both are still there.
It is a story of love.
So were the words of Jesus' farewell address that continue to bring us together and give us a world of meaning.
Thanks be to God.
Thanks be to the living God.
Larry
I welcome your response to these columns. I may be reached at:
larry@leadingcausesoflife.org
Or
larrypray@gmail.com
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment