Our Hope in Christ
by Chris Duncan, Seminarian
May 4, 2008 [John 17:1-11]
Somewhere in the hospital wing of an assisted living facility for the elderly there lies a woman. I met this woman when I worked as a chaplain. I cannot tell you her name. I cannot tell you where she was from or what she did for a living. I cannot tell you much about her at all. It never came up in conversation.
I met this woman on a Friday. It had been one of those weeks that left me standing there on the hospital floor counting down the seconds until I could leave for the weekend. As I began to walk down the hall towards the stairs towards my office, I saw those eyes. They were eyes that cried out for contact, for human interaction, for a connection. A part of me wanted to just keep walking, after all I was off the clock in a couple of minutes, but how could I. As I entered the room, I introduced myself as one of the chaplains and asked if she would like to talk. She answered. Only, I could not understand a word she said. I apologized saying, “I am sorry but do you mind repeating what you said?” Again, she answered and still I could not understand her. I realized I had just engaged in conversation a woman who was unable to speak because of her current medical condition. Those same eyes that cried out for contact began to fill with tears of hurt as she was once more distanced by her condition; her curse to understand all that was around her yet unable to reciprocate in the conversation.
This was a pain that I did not and still do not understand. Nonetheless, I assured her that there was no need to talk and that I would just like to sit with her for a few minutes. I held out my hand for her and she took it. We proceeded to sit there for several minutes saying nothing, but just being in each others presence. After a while, I stood up to leave and thanked her for her time. I asked if she would like someone to come be with her some other time.
Now, what happened next, I cannot explain. In a clear voice as if her medical condition did not exist, she said, “I hope.” Hope… What a powerful instance of feeling beyond words. I hope… I hope for a lot of things, but nothing compares to the hope we have in Christ. We have hope in the resurrection and on this last Sunday of Easter, we gather to rejoice in that great event once more. Yet, in today’s gospel reading, we don’t get a resurrection story. Instead we get the last part to a series of teachings. Instead we get what is often called the farewell discourse. Instead we get a prayer that says goodbye.
The bible often speaks about Jesus praying, but we don’t typically get the insight into the words of those prayers. This is a rare treat. In this prayer Jesus shares his hopes. Jesus hopes in glorifying God through his actions. Jesus hopes in eternal life. Jesus hopes in his disciples’ protection and faith. Then in the final line of today’s reading, Jesus hopes that his believers may be one as he and the Father are one.
Being one is a hard thing. Throughout the bible, we hear stories of disagreements and arguments between people who are meant to be in community. At one point the disciples got into an argument over who would sit on Jesus’ right and on his left in heaven. In Acts of the Apostles, Paul and Peter argued over the inclusion of the Gentiles and to what extent they could participate in the Christian community. This history of dispute within the Church extends beyond just those early believers. Church history is marked with plenty of disagreements that have ended in split, division, and sometimes even wars. In 1054, the Eastern Orthodox Church split from the Western Church. The Western Church was split up in the 1500 and 1600s during the Protestant Reformation. These splits and divisions were oftentimes a means to explore ones faith and beliefs deeper, but they also came with pain and suffering. Even our own St. Columba is said to be the key cause of a rift that occurred in Ireland over the copying of the psalms. The point is that Jesus knew that it was hard to stay in community. This is a problem that not only the Church but the world has had to deal with since the beginning of time.
Of course we would be naïve to believe that this does not exist today. When it comes down to it, we as the Christian Church have not gotten much better. Today, there are divisions among denominations where the different groups will not even talk to one another. They refuse to even come to the table to begin a conversation of reconciliation. There are divisions within our own denomination that extend beyond the issue of human sexuality. We face issues within the Episcopal Church that address the authority of scripture and the role that all people play as part of the Church. There are divisions within our own parish. There are divisions within the individual groups within the parish… There are divisions among friends and families. Yes, 2000 years later we haven’t gotten much better at being one as the Father and the Son are one. And yet… we hope… Jesus hopes and prays saying, “Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.”
Recently, I was watching the TV show Lost. I was mesmerized by the commercials. Commercial after commercial after commercial… Five minutes of show and then back to commercials. I could not help but notice all the famous athletes and celebrities that endorse different things in these commercials. I got to thinking about whether or not these celebrities actually buy what they are selling. Do these spokespeople actually consume what they are pitching? Then I thought about the Church, the Christian Church as a whole. We hope to be one in hospitality, one in outreach, one in fellowship, and one in ministry. We even take time to preach this message in sermons and make it part of mission statements, but what are we doing to live into this message; to truly take this message to heart?
This is our hope after all; that we may be one as the Father and the Son are one… In today’s Gospel that one line sheds grace onto this predicament that we often find ourselves in. Of all things to pray for in this farewell discourse, Jesus could have prayed for the poor, the needy, and the sick. Jesus could have prayed for those who had not yet come to believe, the end to the oppressive Roman government, and the whole of creation, but instead Jesus prays for unity among his followers.
The disciples have been reaching out to the hungry, thirsty, lonely, imprisoned, and sick. They were strong in their outreach and ministry. Yes, they had days of doubt, but overall they knew their calling to go into the world with the good news of the Gospel. The problem Jesus hoped would not burden the Church was internal quarrels and strife. Jesus realized how hard it was to stay in community, to stay in discussion, to put aside differences in order to pray together and come to the table for communion together so that we may all be one.
So what does being one look like in the Church? A way we show the world that we are one is through love and hospitality. The love we are talking about is the kind of love that is unconditional. This is not a love that fades with time. In other words, this love does not go away because we are happy or sad, content or mad, well or sick. This is the love that is always there even when the going gets tough. This is the love that Jesus modeled for us on the cross and challenges us to share with one another.
A part of love is hospitality. This is more than just saying “hi” to everyone that walks through the door. When St. Benedict was creating a rule for a new monastic order, he included hospitality in that rule. He defined hospitality as treating all persons as if they were Christ. This was based off of Jesus’ words in Matthew when he says, “Those things you do to the least of my people you do to me.” Those things we do to each other as members of the body of Christ we do to Christ. St. Benedict saw this type of hospitality as vital to being in community.
The Book of Common Prayers states “The Church is one because it is one Body, under one Head, our Lord Jesus Christ.” It also says that the Church is the people, not the bricks and mortar that make the building. Maybe you remember the rhyme that says:
Here’s the church, here’s the steeple, open the doors, where’s all the people?
Here’s the church, here’s the steeple, open the doors, there’s all the people?
But I think here at St. Columba’s we can modify this a bit. Instead we can say:
Here’s the building, here’s the steeple, open the doors - the Church is the people.
Each of you is the Church… We are the Church… and we can be one body as Jesus and the Father are one. This is our hope. This is Jesus’ prayer for us. This is not an easy task as we have seen, but with faith, hope, and love, we can come together to worship and serve our Lord.
I hope!
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