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Guided in Prayer
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24 May 2009 This time of the year is a time of transitions. Within our own family, Jeffry and Emily are in the final throes of preparation for their wedding–no small transition for anyone involved! And together with the Renners and Yeanys and Czajkowskis, we are celebrating the happy transition of graduation and the promises those individual achievements hold. If Gene, our beloved Old Frederick neighbor were still next door, we would see the transition of his back-yard lanai from winter mode to summer: on Memorial Day, the patio furniture would be washed off and carefully set in its assigned place, where it would remain till Labor Day. Meanwhile, teachers and students are making the happy transition from school year to summer vacation. Trips are scheduled. Beaches and mountains beckon. In a time of transition, the past either is celebrated or laid to rest–one way or the other, we say farewell; visions of the future guide our plans for that which is to come. It’s one of those uncanny times when the scripture passage seems to have been picked to address our cultural transitions. Of course, that’s hardly the focus of the lection. The transition our lection is concerned with is the end of Eastertide and the celebration of the gift of the Holy Spirit we know as Pentecost, which we will celebrate next Sunday. In between, specifically this coming Thursday, is the day called Ascension Day on the liturgical calendar. That’s the day that, according to the gospels of Luke and John, Jesus ascended to heaven. Neither Mark nor Matthew record any such tradition. Historically, it’s not a video-cam moment. But theologically, it’s a powerful statement that Jesus’ physical limitations to the Galilean countryside are gone, and that Jesus the Christ is no longer bound to those physical realities. So even Jesus’ prayer, our gospel reading for the day, is placed in the context of his ascension, his transition–halfway between heaven and earth. In John, Jesus literally is ascending to God as he prays.[1,277] In addition to the profound affirmation that Jesus is accessible to his followers in any place, John also frames Jesus’ prayer for his disciples as a way of reassuring the church through succeeding generations.[1] The question John is struggling with here a ham and eggs question. Is the faith the church has received worth of their total commitment? Is it trustworthy? A ham and eggs question is the same kind of question. If you’re having a breakfast of scrambled eggs and ham, for the chicken, it’s a contribution, a personal investment. For the pig, it’s total commitment. John is telling this vulnerable transition community, these second and third generation members of the church, that faith in the risen Christ is worthy of their total commitment. Every succeeding generation faces the same question; every succeeding generation is a transition generation. John’s gospel radiates with an unequivocal ‘Yes;’ the faith the church receives is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help us God. John proclaims that this is Truth’s pedigree: the Truth from God was given directly to Jesus the Christ, to the apostles, to the church. But here’s the kicker. We can transmit data all we want. We have super sophisticated networks and connections to handle those transmissions. But when it comes to faith, the faithful, even exact transmission of data touches only one part of the larger picture. Yes, we want the information to be accurate. We want to know as much as we can about the historical Jesus upon whom we base our faith and its practice. But we want more than that. We want to know something that can’t be transmitted by even the most sophisticated devices out there. We want to know that we are loved. Full stop. Loved not because we do good works. Loved not because we behave in morally ethical ways. Loved not because of our superior intelligence or knowledge. But loved because we are made in God’s image, and God is love. That’s the gospel message: You are loved – so be who you are, a beloved child of God.[2] Everything, everything in our faith stems from that foundational belief. John’s credal statement says it all: God so loved the world; not God so judged the world, but God so loved the world. When Jesus is baptized, the relationship to God, and to each of us is: This is my beloved.... That is the message that Jesus not only transmitted, but also embodied. You are my beloved ones...so be who you are, beloved children of God. Millennia later, Paulo Friere reminds us that what you learn depends on the people with whom you learn. We have learned from Jesus. We have learned from the first disciples. We have learned from the gospel writers. We have learned from followers down through the ages. In season and out of season, through periods of transition and periods of stability, the message is that we are loved, and that we are called to take the message that others are equally beloved. Jesus’ prayer is that we may be holy carriers of that sacred, transformative, life-giving message. We are called to make it so. *** [1] Preaching Through the Christian Year B, Fred B. Craddock, et al, Trinity Press International, © 1993, pages 277-278. |