Jesus prayed for his disciples.
Situated toward the end
of Jesus’ lengthy farewell speech
Jesus prayed for his disciples.
He’s been at table with them.
He’s washed their feet.
Jesus knows he’s going to die,
and they don’t quite believe it yet.
He’s admonished them
to abide in him,
to stay in his love,
the love the Father has given him.
Jesus prayed for his disciples.
Knowing that he is about to die,
Jesus ends his farewell speech
with a prayer.
It was a common public speaking tactic.
If we think about
how presidents end addresses with
“God bless you,
and God bless the United States”
it still is.
This prayer to God
is also a teaching to the audience —
the disciples.
Even as he is about to die,
Jesus is concerned for them.
He knows the troubles they will face,
as they go into the world.
As they have taken up their crosses to follow him,
Jesus reminds God and them,
“They do not belong to the world,
just as I do not belong to the world.”
Having taken up their crosses to follow him,
Jesus prays,
“protect them in your name,
that you have given me…
protect them from the evil one.”
Writing late in the first century,
the author of the Fourth Gospel
is recording Jesus’ words
probably with some commentary and examples
of the experience of the church
in the 60 years
since Jesus’ ascension.
Having celebrated the Ascension on Thursday,
we’re in a a liminal place
like the disciples who know Jesus is about to die
but don’t believe it.
The advocate hasn’t come yet —
that’s next week —
and we’re in the in-between
like the disciples reading John’s gospel.
Jesus has left this realm,
and he has not yet returned.
With those 60 years of experience,
experience of being Jesus’ church,
the school of John poises this text
to speak to us
for all time.
Jesus prayed for his disciples.
Knowing that they would face
trials and persecution
and that people make mistakes,
that we are not saving ourselves,
that we cannot save ourselves,
Jesus prayed for his disciples.
In the moments before
Jesus goes out to be arrested,
he prays for his disciples.
He shows this act of love,
because of how much Jesus loves them.
“I am not asking you
to take them out of the world,”
Jesus says,
“but I ask you to protect them
from the evil one.”
Jesus knows that we need to be in the world,
that we have to be here!
So he asks for the disciples’ protection,
and asks for their being made stronger.
Standing before God
interceding for the whole of creation
Jesus prays,
“Sanctify them in the truth;
your word is truth.
As you have sent me into the world,
so I have sent them into the world.”
Jesus prays here,
for his disciples —
the ones hearing the prayer,
the ones recording it 60 years later,
the ones listening to it today —
to be made holy
in truth.
Jesus, the Lord of all creation,
the one whose merely saying “I AM”
causes guards to fall down
at his arrest
is asking for us
to be made holy!
Not that we may
preen and strut
but that we may share with the world
the truth of love,
the love God has for us all.
When we’re baptized
regardless of the tradition of our baptisms
we’re grafted as branches
onto Jesus’ vine of love.
Having been joined to Jesus’ resurrection,
we abide in his love
as he abides in us.
As we see troubles
from our neighborhood
to international conflict
we’ve been commissioned.
Jesus has sent us out
to proclaim his love
to proclaim Love
as the ultimate victor
over sin and suffering,
over death and the grave.
Not left to our own devices,
not trying to do it ourselves.
But with Jesus’ love,
as Jesus prayed for his disciples.
And with the helper,
who we learn about next week.
“Sanctify them in the truth;
your word is truth.
As you have sent me into the world,
so I have sent them into the world.”
I don’t really preach on Mother’s Day
because it’s not a liturgical observance.
It can also be really painful
for people to come to church
and be bombarded with images of
what motherhood should be
or what they should be
or what they lack.
This year, though,
as we end Jesus’ farewell narrative
where he’s been talking and we’ve been hearing for weeks
about the full depths of God’s love for us
I can’t help but thinking about
God our true mother.
Anselm of Canterbury wrote,
and it’s a canticle for use at Morning or Evening Prayer
in Enriching Our Worship:
Jesus, as a mother you gather your people to you; *
you are gentle with us as a mother with her children.
Often you weep over our sins and our pride, *
tenderly you draw us from hatred and judgment.
You comfort us in sorrow and bind up our wounds, *
in sickness you nurse us and with pure milk you feed us.
Jesus, by your dying, we are born to new life; *
by your anguish and labor we come forth in joy.
Despair turns to hope through your sweet goodness; *
through your gentleness, we find comfort in fear.
Your warmth gives life to the dead, *
your touch makes sinners righteous.
Lord Jesus, in your mercy, heal us; *
in your love and tenderness, remake us.
In your compassion, bring grace and forgiveness, *
for the beauty of heaven, may your love prepare us.
Like some mothers,
like my mom
every morning on the way to school
and every night at bed time
Jesus prayed for the disciples.
“Jesus, as a mother you gather your people to you..
Jesus, by your dying, we are born to new life; *
by your anguish and labor we come forth in joy.”
Alleluia! Christ is risen.
Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!