That the World May Believe

John 17:1-26

April 14, 2022 (Maundy Thursday) • Mount Pleasant UMC

“If you really want to get to know someone, listen to them pray” (Card, John: The Gospel of Wisdom, pg. 177). Now, granted, it’s kind of rude to sneak up on a person and eavesdrop while they are praying, I do like to use the prayers of others as a jump-start to my own daily prayers, though. So, through the years, I have collected a variety of books of prayers that I use in my own devotional time. Lately, I’ve been using Bill Coker’s book Prayers for the People, which is a collection of prayers he wrote for his congregation here in Terre Haute. It’s true: “Nothing reveals more of who a person is than the content of his prayers” (Dunnam, With Jesus in the Upper Room, pg. 173).

During the season of Lent, we have been on a journey with Jesus through this last night he spent with his disciples, and tonight we’ve actually arrived at that night. We remember that on this night, he shared a Passover meal with his disciples, instituted what we now know as the sacrament of Holy Communion, taught them how they will move ahead after his death, and has walked with them down the Kidron Valley toward the Garden of Gethsemane. Now, as they are near the garden, nearing the time when Jesus will pray on his own, nearing the time when he will be arrested and taken away from them, Jesus leads the disciples in prayer. He prays out loud, apparently, not so that he can be heard by God but so that the disciples can hear the conversation between him and his Father (cf. John 11:42). He wants them to learn from his prayer life. This is actually one of the rare times we hear the words Jesus prays. There are many times in the Gospels where we’re told he prays, but here John has preserved what I assume is the whole prayer, or at least the essence of it, for us to listen to as well—because if you really want to get to know someone, listen to them pray. We’re going to listen in on Jesus praying tonight, and because the prayer focuses on three main things, we’re going to hear it read in three sections by three different people. I’d encourage you, though, not to just listen to the words, but seek to hear the heart behind each petition. Sheri Swan is going to lead us in the first part of this prayer.

READING: John 17:1-5

The first part of Jesus’ prayer—the shortest part—is focused on his own needs as he approaches the cross. Now, I’m pretty sure if I knew I was facing a violent and painful death in the next 24 hours, the word I would be praying would sound a lot more like begging than Jesus’ prayer here does. This part of the prayer almost sounds like a soldier reporting in. “I’ve finished the mission, and I’m looking forward to being back home.” He prays that the next part of his story, the cross, will “glorify” himself so that he can give that glory to the Father. There are a lot of words first-century people would have used to describe a cross, a crucifixion, but “glory” was not one of them. In fact, the Hebrew Scriptures, in the book of Deuteronomy, say that anyone hung on a tree was under God’s curse (21:23).

And yet it is that horrific (and cursed) event that will, Jesus says, “give eternal life” to those who choose to follow him (17:2). A lot of times, when we hear the words “eternal life,” we think of life that goes on and on and on…and honesty, as a kid, when I tried to wrap my mind around that, it sounded terribly boring. I mean, what are we going to do with all that time? But “eternal life” is not about length of time; it’s about quality of life. It’s a different kind of life. While I don’t pretend to know exactly what it’s going to be like, here’s what I know (and I know it because Jesus said it): “eternal life” is life in God’s presence, life with Jesus (cf. 17:3; Wright, John for Everyone—Part Two, pg. 93), and for those who love him, those who follow him, that’s really all we need to know. Eternal life is this: Jesus will be there, and that’s enough. When these disciples see the life literally drip out of Jesus’ body, they will need this memory, this hope: Jesus is giving his life to us.

READING: John 17:6-19

Next, Jesus prays for his disciples, the eleven that are with him on this nighttime walk and there’s once again this contrast between Jesus’ followers and “the world.” In John’s gospel, “the world” doesn’t refer to the physical world, to all the things we see and experience around us. Rather, “the world” as John sees it is everything and everyone that has rebelled against God. “The world” has chosen darkness rather than light, the creation rather than the creator (Wright 95). It’s the things and the people and the values that we allow to shape us; today we might call it our “worldview.” And Jesus prays that “the world” will not be what shapes his disciples. Even more than that, he prays that they will not be pulled back into “the world.”

It will undoubtedly be tempting. When they see Jesus die, it will be tempting to just go back to what they know. It will be tempting to think that this “Jesus thing” was great, they had a good run, but now it’s over, so why not just go back to the values and the things “the world” thinks are important? Except, as Jesus says, they know the truth. They’ve been immersed in the truth and it has changed them. How could they ever go back? How indeed? I recently watched an interview with a former lead singer in a Christian band who has since decided he no longer believes in God. And the interviewer asked him if, when he was singing those songs, he really believed what he was singing. He paused, and said he thinks he did, but eventually the doubts became too loud and he walked away. Jesus prays that will not happen to his disciples.

“Sanctify them by the truth,” he prays (17:17). “Sanctify” is one of those fancy Bible words that means “to set apart.” In other words, Jesus prays something like this: “Set these men apart so that others can see the truth of the gospel in and through them. Make them different for the sake of the good news.” We could match this part of the prayer up with this line from the Lord’s Prayer: “Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one” (Matthew 6:13).

READING: John 17:20-26

If you think about it, it’s amazing enough that on this night before the cross, at this moment in the evening when there is very little time left for Jesus to teach or be with the disciples, that he takes time to pray. But maybe not, after all, since prayer was his natural language. So it would make sense that he prays for himself in the hours to come, and that he prays for these who are his closest friends. But isn’t it at least somewhat amazing that, in the face of the sorrow he is facing, he takes time to look down the corridors of history and pray for you and me? That’s what the last section of the prayer is about. He prays for “those who will believe in me through their [the disciples’] message” (17:20). He prays for every generation that will find faith because of the witness left behind by these eleven men. He prays for believers as they tell others, as they share the hope they have found, and as it passed from one generation to another. It’s been said that the Christian faith is always only one generation from extinction because it relies on one generation telling the next generation and them telling the generation after that, and so on. You get it. We wouldn’t be here tonight if the story hadn’t been passed down (cf. Card 181).

And Jesus prays for that to happen, and more than that, he prays for one main thing, a request that has yet to be answered. He prays “that they may be brought to complete unity.” That’s when, he says, “the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me” (17:23). As Maxie Dunnam reflects, “What an awesome task and privilege! Through the witness of forgiven sinners, the world will know forgiveness. Through the love of people who know themselves loved (though undeserving), the world will know God’s love” (188).

Earlier in the evening, as reported by the other Gospel writers, Jesus had given them a practice, a habit, that should be something that unites his followers. He gave them a meal around which they (and we) could gather as one, remembering and celebrating and giving thanks. Sadly, that’s not been the case. Communion has become as divisive as anything else in the faith. In almost every community I have served, including this one, the churches would all have separate Maundy Thursday services and usually at least an opportunity for a combined Good Friday service. When I’ve asked why that is, it’s because we can agree on the significance of the cross but we can’t agree on the practice of Holy Communion. Some use wine and some use grape juice. Some believe the elements change into the literal body and blood of Christ and others believe the elements are symbolic of spiritual truth. Before the pandemic, some would dip and some would drink from a common chalice, some would use real bread and others would use those nasty wafers. We disagree about who can participate in Holy Communion and we disagree about how often it should be offered. We even disagree about who can offer it. I could go on, but you get the point. Even this night, this Maundy Thursday night, this remembrance of the final meal Jesus shared with his friends, has kept us from fulfilling his deepest desire—that we may all be one.

Why is this so important to Jesus, important enough that he prays for it on his final night? Why would this be on his mind before he goes to the Garden to pray? Because, he says, our unity is the only way this dark world will know that Jesus is who he said he is and it’s the only way they will know that God loves them. That’s astonishing, isn’t it? All the effort we put into trying to convince people that God loves them, all the words that preachers speak, all the ways really smart people put together convincing proofs that Jesus is the Son of God, and what the world is waiting on is for all God’s people to live into who we really are: the one body of Jesus Christ. They’re waiting for all God’s people to gather at the table together. I’m convinced that the reason the world has not been won to Christ in over 2,000 years now is because this prayer has not yet been answered (cf. Wright 99). Because the church is not one. Baptists don’t talk to Methodists who don’t talk to Catholics who ignore Presbyterians who refuse to have anything to do with Pentecostals…and I could go on and on. These days, even Methodists don’t talk to Methodists! I’m not saying and I don’t believe Jesus is saying we all have to give up our differences and our distinctives. The eleven men gathered around him that night were all different in personality and temperaments and God would use each one of them to reach different people. What I believe Jesus is praying for is the ability for us to love one another in the midst of our differences. Of not protecting our “turf” so much that we’re afraid to be around one another. Every Tuesday morning, down in our chapel, we get a glimpse of what he prayed for as 10-15 pastors gather together to laugh, share life, and pray for one another and our community. We know we have differences; we know that our theologies and our Biblical understandings aren’t all the same. But I do believe that those who gather there would gather around the communion table together, even in the midst of our differences. Still, that’s only 10-15 out of a community that has—I don’t even know how many churches. Christ has one body, only one, and together we are all it. And Jesus still prays “that they may be one…[so that] the world will know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me” (17:22-23). When will we get our own stuff, our ego out of the way so that Jesus’ deepest desire can be fulfilled?

Gathered around the table on that final night were all sorts of people. The disciples didn’t always get along and they didn’t always agree…except on one thing. They loved Jesus and they believed he was the Messiah. At that time, they didn’t know everything that meant or how it would direct the rest of their lives, but they knew this: he had invited them to the table, together. And so he has invited us on this night, this Maundy Thursday, in this Holy Week. He has invited us and we are not all the same, nor do we always agree…except on our love for Jesus and our gratitude for what he has done in our lives. And so we come to the table tonight in that gratitude. With thankful hearts, and with hearts that long for the day when his people are one, we come to the table to celebrate all Jesus is. Will you pray with me as we prepare our hearts for Holy Communion on this holiest of nights?