John 17:20-26
20”I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, 21that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. 22The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, 23I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.
24Father, I desire that those also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory, which you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world. 25“Righteous Father, the world does not know you, but I know you; and these know that you have sent me. 26I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.”
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If you would like to listen to this sermon (with infusions from the Spirit), you can find it at
the link here.
Grace and peace to you, from God the holy one, who is one with Christ as Christ is one with us so that we might be one with each other. Amen.
The season of Easter is very strange. We have the amazing Easter celebration with the trumpets and lilies, then for several weeks after that, we go back in the story and hear gospel lessons about the time before Jesus’ death and resurrection.
This is a particularly strange time in the liturgical calendar because it is after the feast of the ascension, which we celebrated on Thursday, but before the Pentecost. Jesus is no longer on earth with the disciples, but the Holy Spirit has not yet come. But for some reason, we find ourselves reading about before Jesus death and resurrection and ascension this Sunday.
That’s exactly what’s happening in this text— for several chapters, Jesus has been issuing his final farewell to the disciples before Passover and during his final meal with them.
For almost four chapters, he gives them encouraging words, instructions, and exhortations. But in chapter 17, there is a shift. Jesus goes from talking to the disciples to looking up to heaven and addressing his father. Jesus starts praying.
When I was in youth and campus ministry in Ohio, I was meeting at a restaurant with a student who had just started her first year of college and was home on break. She was discerning a call to ministry and needed someone to talk through it with. We talked for nearly three hours, to the great frustration of the restaurant workers. When we got up to leave, she said, “as you can see… I have a lot of discernment to do and many decisions to make. Will you pray for me?”
I said, yes of course I would pray for her and gave her a hug. She hesitated and said, “no— I mean, will you pray for me right now. Here.” And she sat back down. Now, at that point in my ministry, I didn’t *love* praying aloud and I certainly didn’t like to doing it without any sort of preparation or warning. But I pulled my chair back around, sat down right across from her, clasped her hands in mind, put my forehead to hers, and prayed for a half an hour.
If you’ve ever had anyone pray for you aloud and in person, you know that it is vulnerable, and wonderful, and oftentimes exactly what your heart and spirit need in that moment.
In this gospel lesson, Jesus has stopped giving instructions to his friends and starts praying aloud for them. And I think this is especially important to remember.
When I first read the lesson this morning, I scoffed at the audacity of Jesus’ words. Jesus says things like, “So that they may be one. So that they may be completely one.” If this was still instruction or exhortation from Jesus, we’d be failing pretty terribly at being one people. But it’s not instruction. It’s a prayer.
When Jesus asks his father that we may be one, it is not so much a command for us to follow as it is a description for us to remember.
It reminds me of a math problem in high school, but I was never really very good at math, so I hope this is a little easier to grasp.
Because Christ came into the world to walk and eat and be with us, we are one with Christ. And because Christ is one with God, we are also one with God. And if all of us are one with Christ and God, it means that we are all one with each other. We have all been grafted into the same family tree.
That’s what it means when we are washed in the waters of baptism. It means that our own family lines don’t matter anymore. It means that we have died and we are raised with Christ. It means that when we eat the body and drink the blood of Christ, we are now one with Christ. His body and blood are in us. Which means we all share the same body and blood.
And I know that most of this sounds metaphorical, but I don’t mean it only as metaphorical. And I think we recognize that in the most intimate moments of our lives. When we bury our friends and our family, like we have done so often these past few months, we recognize that we are not grieving alone. We are not hurting alone. The whole body of Christ, as one body, grieves together.
Thursday night I attended the ordination of a new deacon at Christ Church, and even though I didn’t know him or most of the clergy and folx there, I was able to rejoice with them because we are all one.
We do this in our prayers every Sunday too, we pray for people we don’t know or who don’t know us. People who are far away, or long gone. Just as Jesus prayed that evening in the presence of the disciples. Because he was not just praying to his father for the disciples, but he was praying on behalf of those who will believe in me through the disciples’ word. All of us. On the eve of his crucifixion, our Lord and savior prayed for you and me and everyone who would come to believe in him because of the witness of the disciples. Because we are one. We are one. There is no such thing as “us” and “them.”
And that is difficult to hear because we live in a world of “us” and “them.” We are actively trying to emphasize the “us-ness” and “them-ness” in the world.
Us, the Episcopalians, and them.
Us, the Floridians, and them.
Us, the Christians, and them.
Us, the Americans, and them.
Us, the Republicans or Democrats, or citizens, or wealthy, or liberals, or conservatives, or men, or women, or worthy, or pure, or pious, or stable, or well-adjusted. And them.
But Jesus says that we are one. There is no “us” and “them.” Only God’s children. Only those who have died and been raised in Christ’s death and resurrection. Only those who have been grafted into God’s promise of salvations through Christ Jesus. There is only one body, one people, all together different and the same.
And even though this isn’t a command or instruction from Jesus, I wonder what would it would look like if we started acting like we were one.
What would the world be if we felt the pain and suffering, the joy and liberation of everyone in the world?
We are one, whether we like it or not. When one person in the body is suffering, we all suffer. When one celebrates, we all celebrate. Civil rights activist Fannie Lou Hamer said “Nobody’s free until everybody’s free.”
Just like Paul and Silas in the story in Acts, when they broke free of their shackles, everyone broke free of their shackles.
It is imperative that we begin living like we believe that we have all been created in God’s image and that in Christ’s life, death, resurrection, and ascension, we are all one. Otherwise, we are not able to enjoy the truth of the resurrection and the gift of the Holy Spirit— the truth that God is still with us, among us, within each of us, and in the face of each person on this earth.
And next week, we get to hear that story and witness that truth firsthand— in Pentecost. So stay tuned for the next part of the story— it gets even better. Amen.
This sermon was originally preached by me, Rev. Sarah Locke, at Redeemer Episcopal Church on June 2, 2019.
