May 17, 2020 - Sixth Sunday of Easter

Okay, so the disciples weren’t suddenly faced with a worldwide pandemic, the likes none had seen for nearly a century. But their world was about to turn upside down. It’s hard to put ourselves in their shoes, but imagine for a moment what the next 72 hours would have in store for those disciples. The one whom they had devoted their entire lives to, spending nearly every minute with, the one they were starting to believe was truly God’s Son would be arrested, put on trial, executed, only to then rise from the dead after three days. On that third day he would suddenly greet them in a locked room, show them his hands and his side, and then disappear once again. 

It’s no pandemic, but that is a LOT of traumatic change in a very short period of time. 

Jesus does his best to prepare his friends for that change. But based on the questions and the reactions of the disciples, they don’t really get it, they don’t grasp the reality that he’s not going to be with them much longer. Nevertheless, knowing the tremendous turmoil and chaos that will follow in the days ahead, Jesus promises that he won’t abandon them. Even though he will no longer be physically present, he will send them an Advocate, a Spirit of Truth, to guide, comfort, support and inspire. 

We have been treading through unprecedented change, these last couple months. Change is hard even when we choose it. But when change is forced upon us and when refusing to change could lead to illness or death—for us, our loved ones or our neighbor—boy that’s hard. 

Right now I think we’re seeing how forced change can create tension and frustration. The fear and anger that it creates causes us to turn inward, to go into self-preservation mode, to slip into that “hell with everyone else” attitude. It seemed like for the first six weeks or so of sheltering-in-place we were committed to following restrictions, keeping our neighbors safe, even at the price of personal freedoms. A month we could do. Six weeks we could do. But now approaching two months with no definite end in sight, we’re starting to see some fault-lines as those who feel that they have suffered enough for the other, for the collective good are starting to make choices that put others at risk.

Dear friends, I know this is hard. I know there is very real suffering that restrictions and guidelines have caused for many people. I get it. I have friends and family who are applying for unemployment, searching for new jobs, worried about making rent and their mortgages. But this is not the time to go it alone. This is not the time to turn inwards. It will only, most certainly, lead to more suffering and death. We cannot turn our backs on the most vulnerable and marginalized. We cannot turn our backs on the elderly, the ones whose wisdom and stories of faith and perseverance have been passed on from generation to generation. We cannot turn our backs on all those working on the front lines: healthcare workers, grocery clerks, police officers, those who deliver mail and other goods, restaurant workers, those who work in manufacturing and processing plants. We cannot turn our backs on our black and brown sisters and brothers who know this narrative all too well—yet another example of being ignored by systems built on white privilege. The only way we get through this is together, doing what we can for our families AND our neighbor. 

The passage from 1 Peter talks about suffering—suffering for what is good. We don’t suffer for its own sake, there isn’t salvation in suffering itself, but we understand that it is a part of human life and sometimes doing the right thing comes at some personal cost. And, in the cross of Christ we know and trust that suffering isn’t the end all, it doesn’t have the last word. In the cross we know and trust that Christ suffers with us.

All of this traumatic change that we are going through as a community, as a nation, as an entire world, it wears on all of us. So let Jesus’ reassuring words to the disciples be a comfort and guide for us, “I will give you an Advocate,” he says. “to be with you forever…the Spirit of Truth, you know this Spirit because it abides in you and will be in you.” In the midst of chaos and uncertainty, in the midst of change that turns our lives upside down, Jesus promises to give us the Spirit—to comfort, to reassure, to guide—an advocate, one to literally act and speak on our behalf. 

I will not leave you abandoned, Jesus says, I am coming to you. The tense of that verb, “I am coming” is interesting, given that Jesus was talking directly to the disciples. But John writes into his gospel this notion—supported by all of the stories about Jesus—that Jesus comes to us again and again and again. He meets us again and again and again. He shows up again and again and again. 

And he shows up bearing a promise: that God is faithful, that God loves us, that God will not abandon us. The God who made the world and everything in it…the Lord of heaven and earth…gives to all mortals life and breath and all things. 

With the gift of the Spirit, the disciples would soon be commissioned to be the voice of God’s creative and redemptive word. And now, that responsibility falls to you and me. And that word is needed now more than ever. So let us join our voices to share God’s love with the world and prove that goodness is stronger than evil, love stronger than hate, and life stronger than death.