by the Rev. Carole Horton-Howe
Jesus said, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going.” Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.”
Philip said to him, “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.” Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? Do you not believe that 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. Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.”
—John 14:1-14 (NRSV)
Our gospel today is a flashback. It takes us back to Holy Week and the night before Jesus’ arrest when he is at table with his closest friends. He getting ready to leave them. He doesn’t have much time. And he chooses to spend it by reassuring them of his continued presence with them.
Just for a minute let’s imagine together another flashback, a scenario that might bring up something from your childhood or your more recently your own experience as a mom or dad. Imagine that you’re a little kid sitting in the backseat of your family’s car. Your dad is driving, your mom is there too. You’ve left home not long ago. You know you’re on a long trip – maybe to visit your grandparents or maybe it’s a summer vacation. Whatever it is you don’t have a choice. You’re on this trip whether you want to be or not.
Photo by Johannes Plenio from Pexels
And it’s not too long before the scenery is pretty much the same. You’ve got books or games or videos but it’s pretty much the same too. You’re bored. You’re tired of it. And there’s a pressing concern, a serious question you really want to know, so you ask your dad, “Is it much further?” “Are we there yet?”
Now dads are experts at things having to do with driving and being on the road. And dad is likely to tell you the number of miles or how many hours there are to go or the next rest stop coming up. Whatever the answer, as a little kid it doesn’t make it better. It doesn’t make sense. It’s certainly not what you’re longing to hear. What you want to hear is, “We’re almost there. Five more minutes. Which for a little kid is about 4 minutes and 50 seconds too long. But dad never says even that.
Now what does your mom do? She senses your restlessness. And offers a distraction. “Take out one of your books,” she says. Or offers to play a game of “I Spy” with you. Even so, the trip goes on. And you might be distracted for a short while. But you’re still confined in the car. And you can’t see the end.
This is the best metaphor I can think of for where we are right now. We’re kind of like kids on a long car trip, powerless to do anything but go along for the ride. We’re wondering, we’re praying, “Are we there yet?” and “How much further?” We are so longing to return to the lives we had. We are eager to get back to January 2020. What I’m hearing from people that I talk with and that I’m feeling myself it that we’re all just over it. For those who are in despair about their health, about lost income and mounting expenses it’s serious business.
For a child, the offer of that distraction that minimizes the discomfort is a reasonable way to go. But for those of us who are a all grown up on this journey of isolation and deprivation, in a place of anxiety about the future and longing for what has been, praying for a return to our normal lives, distractions that try to minimize our discomfort won’t benefit us any more than they would have helped Thomas or Philip. Jesus provided them and us with a way to cope with and navigate through the transitions in our lives. Jesus invited them to follow and believe in entirely new and uncomfortable ways.
So instead of searching for and retreating into places of familiar safety, what can we do in this time to help us grow closer to the heart of God?
I wonder if we do so by taking purposeful steps into our discomfort. This is counterintuitive for most of us. Why in the world would we embrace discomfort? Because I believe that if we do, we will meet Jesus there and know the fullness of his care for us just as he describes it to the apostles. Resurrection only came after Jesus died on the cross. Life came out of death. New life – what you may have heard called “a new normal.”
The practice of Ignatian Spirituality has something to offer us. It allows us to see the sacred in the ordinary. Our daily lives become the text and context for our prayers revealing what is life-giving. You don’t have to be an expert. Its beauty is in its simplicity.
In the prayers called the Examen, we are asked to spend quiet time focused on God’s presence, to review our day with gratitude and pay attention to our emotional responses to the events of the day. Where did we experience joy? Where was our faith bolstered? What happened that drew us closer to God? These are the evidences of Jesus continued love and concern for us and of God creating opportunities for us. This is what we keep. These are the things that give us life.
The opposite also reveals truth. We are asked to pay attention to times we felt self-pity, despondency and other negative emotions. We are asked to discern what happened in our day that pushed us away from God. And this is what we let go of, what we let die.
I think this type of discernment will guide us along this journey and help us recognize what we can do to come out of this energized and prepared to move into the future in closer relationship to God and one another.
Ironically, this gospel is the one we frequently hear in our funeral liturgies. In this 14th chapter of John, Jesus provides assurance that the disciples will have an on-going relationship with him not severed by death even though they cannot follow him now. Jesus encourages them to believe in God and in him not just after our death but right now. And its effect now is the same as it is in those difficult times: Jesus loves us, advocates for us, champions our cause no matter what.
When our body dies, we say that life has changed not ended. In times of transition such as the days that stretch out before us, the same is true. Life is changed. Not ended. Visions of who we are and who we are becoming will emerge if we allow them to even as a previous sense of ourself changes and disappears.
Jesus tells them and us: Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in me.
Believe in all we have seen as followers of Jesus – God’s compassion, healing, mercy and love;
Believe in the power of resurrection in which God continues to create new life in us and around us;
Believe that our relationship with God through Jesus Christ will continue to thrive even as it changes;
Believe that we are not forgotten and never alone.
Amen.