BIBLE READING: John 17:20-26

SERMON

I wish I could find the Cobar Gazette newspaper article about the first day of school at Cobar Public. It must have been a slow week for news - the journalist/photographer/ editor was waiting at the gate of the school as I walked up with my two young children.

She snapped a picture of us that went with the story. I guess I was a bit strange - the only male there holding hands with my children.

My children didn’t want to let go of my hands that day - and I couldn’t blame them. Everything was new.

Fortunately, the teacher of the combined 1st/2nd class Meghan was there - she too was new to town, and was probably as worried as my children about how that first day would go.

She welcomed me and them and pointed us in the right direction. as we made our way to their new classroom I had all sorts of thoughts rushing through my head.

How could I possibly be expected to leave my children with someone unknown to me?

What if Robyn or Andrew weren’t ready to step out on their own? What if they needed me?

Why is it so difficult to let go? To trust that all will be well?

To know that we have done the best possible job, preparing those we love

for the future, so that they can step out in faith and strength?

Are we not trusting ourselves or are we not trusting them?

It’s not just children heading out for the first day at a new school.  It’s everywhere we have invested love or time or energy. What if the people left behind just don’t have a handle on what needs to be done? What if they can’t do all that’s required of them? What if they just can’t make it on their own?

OK, maybe that’s not a universal problem.  Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m really a micro-manager and never realised it!

Or, maybe there’s a little bit of that tendency within each of us.  Maybe there was even a little bit of it in Jesus! Today’s gospel lesson comes immediately before Jesus’ arrest in the garden of Gethsemane.  His concern over his followers’ welfare is great. And, so, he prays.

Jesus prays that his disciples will truly see him for who he is; that they will know God, through all they have experienced with the Son. Jesus asks God to protect them and make them holy.  And, finally, he prays

for unity.

This is no dying wish, oh-woe-is-me kind of a prayer.  Jesus knows what is to come and his greatest wish, his greatest prayer, is for those he will leave behind… that they will be one with one another, that they will be one with God.

Anthony de Mello, a renowned Jesuit priest and spiritual leader of

the 20th century, once wrote,

How does one seek union with God?

The harder you seek, the more distance you create between Him and you.

So what does one do about the distance?

Understand that it isn’t there.

Does that mean that God and I are one?

Not one.  Not two.

How is that possible?

The sun and its light,

the ocean and the wave,

the singer and his song –

not one.  Not two.

Jesus said, “As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us...”

What a miracle, to be one with God.  Remember the saying “Feeling far from God? Guess who moved?”

God’s right here.  

This is Jesus’ prayer for us.  That we will feel that unity, that closeness.  That we will be strengthened by it. That others will know it through us.  And, that the love with which God has loved Jesus, the Son, may be within each of us.

St. Augustine wrote, Our hearts were created for you, O Lord, and they will be restless until they rest in you.

From the beginning of humanity, human beings have found their strength and their peace in their relationships with a Higher Being.  By whatever name God has been called, whatever face or guise God has been given, humans have struggled to be in contact with the Creator.

Jesus recognised the importance of that relationship.  After all, isn’t that the reason he came, in the first place? To restore the relationships that had been severed; to strengthen and clarify those which were still in existence; to help people understand, once and for all, that God is more than laws and commands and demands and judgement.  Jesus’ greatest gift to humankind was that he helped us to see the enormity of God’s love for each of us.

Jesus would send his followers out on their own.  To fend for themselves. To face the world, each one standing on his or her own two feet.  One would betray him. One would deny him. And, the rest would have to determine, for themselves, where their paths would lead them. Would they embrace the love of God, as was taught to them by this Rabbi? Or, would they forget? Would they be blinded by the horrors of the crucifixion, never again to feel a closeness with the One whom Jesus called “Father?”  “As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us...”

Maybe it was too much to expect of mere human beings.  Maybe they couldn’t carry on. How could he leave them? What if they needed him?

As we walked down the walkway towards the classroom, my children was beginning to get excited.  they could see there were kids to play with. There were new toys and at least a million books. And, there

were Meghan, smiling at each child, her voice filled with invitation and welcome.

Then suddenly both children let go of my hands - there seemed to me not a moment of hesitation on their part.  They left my side, ready to take on this new world.

As I stood in the doorway, one parents on my left and right, my daughter turned around and looked at me and smiled.  She didn’t say much. Just four words. “Dad, you can go.”

Jesus walked this earth.  And, in each person he met, a little seed was planted.  Seeds of understanding. Seeds of love. Seeds sown by the beauty of God’s grace.

For some, the love would never bloom.  But, we know the rest of the story. We know, because we are the evidence.  We know that innumerable seeds sprouted. And the love spread.

Jesus walked this earth.  And, then, he left. But, his love stayed within us.  A love that would guide us into the future with faith and strength.

Acknowledgement: T. Kralman