Easter 6C, Anticipating Memorial Day

The appointed readings can be found here (note, we used the John 14 option for the Gospel)

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I was raised with a keen awareness that leaving meant gone.

That leaving meant the distinct possibility of gone, forever.

That once you set foot on the plane, you may return, you may not.

But, when you did, it would never be the same.

That what you had left would move on and that, once you had left, you would be changed.

I left home in the summer of 1996.

And, I know now, with a poignancy that can only exist in hindsight.

That every last embrace came from a place of grief—that as I began something new, I was leaving behind those who had come to love me.

Those who knew, through life and loss, that there would be no guarantee that they would live to see my return.   

And, I am every child who has left. And, I am every parent who fears the leaving. And, I am everyone who has stood beside the grave and wept. And, I am everyone who has walked through a door and never looked back.

The grief is real. The loss is real. The new life is real.

And our hearts are troubled.

Our hearts are troubled.

Because, in new life, something has inevitably died. In the journey begun, another has ended.

And, we stand at the doorway and wave, until the one last look has passed and, resolute, the one we love walks on.

These images of leave taking, the remembrance of loss…

By choice or by chance. By death or by doorway.

We will all stand on both sides of the leaving.

I am going away, Jesus says.

I am going away.

And, knowing loss, my breathing grows shallow. And, knowing the leaving, my heart breaks. And, knowing what it means to finally arrive…

to regret and to rejoice.

Looking behind and moving ahead.

Trying to make sense of all that has passed, so that we might live in the now that has come to be.

Death, resurrection and ascension. He was here and now he is gone. And, what now? What now?

We were not the first to wonder. To wonder the why of the leaving and the how of the healing...

16^th century Carmelite, John of the Cross offers us this lamentation,

Why, since You wounded
This heart, don't You heal it?
And why, since You stole it from me,
Do You leave it so,
And fail to carry off what You have stolen? (vs. 9, The Spiritual Canticle)

Why, were we left? What hope have we now?

The Gospel of John was the last of canonical Gospels to be written. And, as such, it is a Gospel that is trying to make sense of all that has transpired from the vantage point of the after. After the crucifixion, after the resurrection, after the ascension…after. This Gospel is written for an early Christian community living in the after…in the already but not yet of the promised new life. The same already but not yet in which we, ourselves dwell. Which lends a certain poignancy to the opening verses of the Gospel of John.

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”

The life was the light of the people. The light which shines in, the light that shines on, the light—the pervasive and all-encompassing light that brings life.  

Jesus speaks, “Those who love me will keep my word”. Jesus’ word, the Word that brought life at creation. Jesus’ word, the word we are asked to keep.

This is the Word that shines the light. The Word that brings peace. The Word that re-creates the intention of God, the Creator.

Theologian James Alison, writes that “This is the sense of the peace which Jesus leaves with his disciples: not the peace which is the result of the suppression of conflict, or the resolution of conflict, such as is practiced by the mechanism of expulsion of the world, but the creative peace that brings into being: the primordial peace of the Creator from the beginning.” (The Joy of Being Wrong, p. 190)

The peace from the beginning is the word of new creation. The word that we are to live, is the word that brings to life.

And, so the author of the Gospel writes in hope and in fear, in trust and in sorrow, of how we shall live the Word that is life.

Today’s Gospel comes from a different beginning, the beginning of Jesus’ farewell discourse, Jesus’ long goodbye. Spoken prior to death, prior to the resurrection, prior to all that is to come. Recorded after all has come to be, for those who wonder how they are to live,

“Those who love me will keep my word.”

To keep the word, is to bring to life. To keep the word is to bring into being. To keep the word…

Is how we are called to live after loss.

It is how we are called to bring life to the world.  

“Those who love me will keep my word…”

As Christians, we cannot talk about our love of Christ, without talking about how we are to live.

It is not enough to simply say we love Jesus without keeping the word that he has given us.

So, what is this word, this word which we commit to keep?

If we look back just a few verses, we see that the Gospel we hear today, comes on the heels of Jesus’ proclamation of a new commandment, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.’” John 13:34

These are the words. These are the words that bring life. These are the words that bring us to the dawn of a new creation.

Love one another.

Open the city gates and tear down the walls that separate us. Love one another.

Welcome the people of all nations, seek and serve Christ in all persons. Love one another.

Heed the call of those in need, strive for justice and peace. Love one another.

Judge with equity, honor the dignity of all people, and love one another.

Give praise to God. Love one another.

Because, by this the world will know that we are disciples.

By this we will find ourselves comforted.

By this, our wounded hearts will be healed.

By this, we will keep Christ’s word.

Amen.

And now, go out into the world in peace, be of good courage, hold fast to that which is good; render to no one evil for evil; support the weak, help the afflicted, love and serve the Lord, rejoicing in God’s presence as God goes with you always. In the name of the Holy Trinity, one God. Amen.