Rev. Marilu Thomas May 8, 2016 John 17:20-26
Messy Mother
Rev. Marilu Thomas May 8, 2016 John 17:20-26
Happy Mother’s Day! As I stand up here I am keenly aware that I am probably the only Mother to have preached from this pulpit on Mother’s Day. It’s hard to describe the feeling—awe, joy, anxiety, gratitude, amazement, a little disbelief- all mixed together. I wonder, “How did this happen—that I am in Christ Church with all of you wonderful people?” What an incredible gift of grace.
At the same time, I’m also reminded that being a Mother and having a Mother is very complicated business. We love our Mothers but, as a culture, we like to keep our distance. A study at Iowa State University of 566 families with adult children showed that almost 62% described their relationship with their Mother as “very emotionally distant.”
This seems to fit the trend that psychologist Dr. Sherry Turkle, founder of the MIT Initiative on Technology and Self, describes in her book Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other. Dr. Turkle makes the point that technology appeals to us where we are most vulnerable—in relationships. She says, “Human relationships are rich and they’re messy and they’re demanding… [so] we are designing technologies that will give us the illusion of companionship without the demands... Over and over I hear, ‘I would rather text than talk.’ ...We’re lonely but we’re afraid of intimacy…so we turn to technology to help us feel connected in ways we can comfortably control. But we’re not so comfortable. We are not so much in control.”
Dr. Turkle reports that, “the moment that people are alone, even for a few seconds, they become anxious, they panic, they fidget, they reach for a device. Being alone feels like a problem to be solved.” I am becoming this person, reaching for my phone at a red light, in the checkout line, at dinner, waiting for someone, when I first wake up and when I go to sleep at night. But as Reinhold Niebur said, “Man is his own vexing problem.” Technology is not the problem—we are.
Jesus addresses this in our scripture from John 17 today, in what is called The Farewell Discourse. He prays about our problem of feeling alone, and our need for belonging and relationships.
In today’s gospel, we are back pre-Easter—before Jesus has gone to the Garden to be arrested. He knows what’s ahead—that he will be betrayed, that we are a fickle lot and will scatter to the winds when he is crucified. So what does he do? He prays. Through John 17, we get to hear Jesus praying and guess who he was praying for?
Jesus’ prayer has three parts—he prays for himself, he prays for the disciples and he prays for us. Jesus is not instructing, or preaching or teaching—he is praying. He looks up to heaven and prays for those who will believe in Him through the Word of the disciples. That’s us. Think about that for a moment—2000 years ago you were the topic of conversation between the Trinity—the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. You are here in Christ Church because you heard the Word in some form—either through scripture or a human being who shared it with you.
In the last moments before he was arrested, Jesus Christ’s thoughts were about us, and how to make sure we got to hear the promise that He will be with us. He is not leaving us alone. He prays for our messy relationships, our fidgety need to be connected, our feeling that no one is listening, that we don’t count, that we are insignificant. The challenges we face at work, home, school and in the world. Jesus knew you would need His prayers today.
Jesus asks that the love that the Trinity enjoys together, be given to us. He prays to the heavens, “That the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me…That the love with which you have loved me may be in them and I in them.” Through this prayer, Jesus tells us that we are loved just as much as He is. We are an expression of Jesus’ love—we are the answer to Jesus’ prayer. He says His love is in us.
Why is this important? Can’t we live without love? Or why can’t we have machines fill our needs for connection and companionship? I have been known to talk to Siri when frustrated or in need of information. There have been movies made about this fantasy of having a perfect companion—remember the movie “Her”? Why do we need God or people anyway?
Because machines can’t love us. Machines do not experience death or hurt or pain, loss or doubt. The saying, “We are human beings not human doings” comes to mind. We are loved because we exist- not because we can perform tasks or give information or be perfect companions. We have a deep need to be loved and to love, placed there by our Creator God. Being alone is a problem that has already been solved—and the solution is what Jesus promises right here in John 17- to always be with us, to never leave us alone, that we are loved. Jesus is the answer to our fears and cravings. Part of our daily bread—as in “give us today our daily bread.” His daily love keeps us nurtured and human. Jesus experienced life—death, hurt, pain, loss and love—and shares all those experiences with us.
Jesus also prays that we receive the glory that he has been given. What is the glory that Christ has given us? Jesus’ glory is in his special relationship to God the Father. We hear this glory in the first chapter of John, “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, the glory of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth.” The glory that Christ shares with us is the glory of belonging to God, of being in a loving relationship with the God of the universe. The Greek word for glory used here (doxa) means, “that which belongs to God or Christ.” Christ prays that we belong to Him and so we do. If you are thinking, “That’s for really religious people- not me.” That means you too—because you are a human being and a child of God. You belong.
Lastly, Christ prays for relationships. The love of Christ is not magic—it comes through the relationships in our lives. Christ uses the people in our lives to be the hands and feet of his loving reach. He prays “that they may be one as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me.” Today on Mother’s Day, Christ is already at work in your relationship with your Mother, whether it’s a great one or you are a 62% person with a distant relationship. But not just with your Mother, but with all those in your life. Love is a risky thing—but we have help.
We are lonely but afraid of intimacy, but Christ is not. We are afraid of the messiness and demands of relationships—but Christ is not. The Holy Spirit is especially attracted to relationships and you can spot it at work in the strangest places when you least expect it.
Here is a sampling of what this kind of risky love looks like, according to children:
Rebecca, 8 “When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn’t bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis, too. That’s love.”
Chrissy, 6 “Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.”
Terri, 4 “Love makes you smile when you’re tired.”
Noelle, 7 “Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it every day.”
Tommy, 6 “Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.”
Cindy, 8 “During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn’t scared anymore.”
The last one is a story—a four year-old child’s next-door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman’s yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, “Nothing, I just helped him cry.”
Christ is listening. Christ is waving from the front row. Christ helps us in the messiness, risk and demands of relationships. Christ is the kid who crawls up into your lap and helps you cry. Siri can’t do that.
Amen