Easter 6, Yr A
The Rev. G.
It’s like a dance
Jesus is leaving. That’s what is happening in the gospel this morning. Jesus and the disciples have just finished supper, the last supper. Jesus has washed everyone’s feet, and he has told them that he is going away.
“Where I am going,” Jesus tells the disciples, “you cannot come.”
Of course, they want to know where he is going. They want Jesus to show them the way that he is going, so that they can follow after him.
He answers them only cryptically. “I am the way, and the truth, and the life,” says Jesus.
This type of answer brings puzzled looks. Jesus is leaving, and his disciples who love him and rely on him, are confused and scared, and growing increasingly anxious.
In a moment of desperate bravery, Peter, who will soon deny he ever knew Jesus, becomes pushy and demanding saying, “Lord, where are you going?!”
Now, we know the story. We know that after this supper scene is finally finished, Jesus will go with his disciples across the Kidron valley to a place where there is a garden. We know that in that garden Jesus will be arrested and bound and taken to trial, and then killed on a cross of wood.
Jesus is leaving and that is where he is going. We know that, but Peter does not yet know that part of the story. So he says, “Lord, tell us now where are you going!?” His voice is tight and dry, and his stomach hurts because he feels like he is at his Lord’s death bed. Jesus is slipping away, but Peter can’t get him to say where he is going, so that he can follow after him and maybe save him.
Jesus says again, “Where I am going you cannot follow me now; but you will follow afterward.”
Peter can’t stand it. He is almost shouting now. “Lord, why can I not follow you now? I will lay my life down for you.”
Jesus speaks, but none can understand.
See, he talks to the disciples in circular sentences that are like puzzle pieces formed of smoke; before they can be put together they rise out of reach and then disappear, so as to be beyond understanding.
I am in the father and the father is in me. The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves.
Jesus says these puzzling things, and the disciples are confused. Then, in a rare and fleeting moment of plain instruction, in the midst of all his circling farewell discourse, Jesus gives the disciples something they can hang onto. It’s the first line of our gospel piece this morning.
Jesus said to his disciples, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.”
You and I might think what commandments? But the disciples immediately knew just what he was talking about. He’d given them a new commandment right after supper.
Their minds raced back to the exact moment. The door had just closed b
That is the commandment – love one another as I love you. “If you love me, says Jesus, you will keep my commandments to love one another.” And then he circles off into more teaching that seems to be beyond the disciples reach. (See John
I have a friend whose father was a preacher. My friend has joked that her father ALWAYS preached the same sermon. His sermon was on love.
My friend would ask him on Saturday night, “Hey dad, what’s the sermon tomorrow? Something about love, maybe?”
He would say, “Oh no, not this one, I am doing this thing with the last piece of the first part of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. No, it’s not on love this time.”
But, try as he might, my friend’s father couldn’t help but preach about love. No matter where he started all his sermons circled back to love.
That’s a good problem to have, I think; at least my friend’s father was in the good and steady tradition of the Gospel of John.
John can’t help himself either. Inside of two chapters, amongst a mess of symbols and metaphors, he quotes Jesus coming back to the same thing over and over again.
I give you a new commandment, that you love one another.
If you love me you will keep my command to love one another.
This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.
I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.”
And then, the last saying of Jesus that John records just before Jesus is arrested and taken away is a circular love prayer to God.
Jesus prays, “Righteous God….I made your name known [to these disciples of mine], so that the love with which you have loved me may be with them, and I in them.”
Did you follow that? All that Jesus has done and will do is to the end that the disciples might share in the love relationship of God and Jesus.
“[If you love me, then love one another.]” That good friends, is the foundation block and the pinnacle point of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
The beginning and the end is Love. Everything in between, all the circular and holy figures of speech and mystery that’s all good stuff to chase down study, pray, and puzzle over, but the love commandment is the heart of the matter of Christian life and salvation. The love commandment paves the way to our salvation.
If we want eternal life; if we want to go to heaven today, tomorrow, or the day we die; if we seek salvation right now or on the resurrection day, at the end of things; then we must simply submit ourselves to be guided by and wrapped up in love relationships.
Now I am starting to sound like John. I’ll put it simply – You have to love to go to heaven!
Now, some people think that’s gospel-lite. Some of you think I’m flaking out and preaching some kind of happy hippy, free love gospel where everybody goes to heaven, especially murderers and unrepentant drugged-out sinners. Some think there’s a lot more “to do” according to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Gotta get baptized, and confess, repent, get confirmed. Gotta meet with the bishop too, right? To get into heaven- Gotta believe in this, can’t believe in that.
Others hear this one-love sermon and are beyond relieved- thinking, “Whew! I was worried I was going to have to do some