Seventh Sunday of Easter: June 1, 2025 | The Rev. Nat Johnson
Readings: Acts 16:16-34 | Revelation 22:12-14,16-17,20-21 | John 17:20-26 | Psalm 97
On this seventh Sunday of Eastertide, we find ourselves in a liminal space, a space of “in-betweenness.” Last Thursday, the Church observed the Feast of the Ascension, a feast day dedicated to remembering Christ’s departure and ascension to the right hand of God. The disciples are told to go and wait in the city for the promised Spirit who would “clothe them with power from on high” so that they would be Jesus’ witnesses throughout the world. We gather today in that time and space of waiting, of preparing through prayer to receive the gift of the Spirit. In Luke’s two-volume work, the Ascension functions as a hinge moment. In his Gospel, it signals the end and culmination of Christ’s ministry. In the Acts of the Apostles, Luke imagines the Ascension as the seed of God’s reign that, through the power of the Holy Spirit and the fertile soil of souls tilled in prayer, would blossom into the proclamation of the gospel to the nations. The rest of the Acts of the Apostles traces the movement of this Spirit through the people of the Way as they are empowered to carry on the mission of God in the world.
For Luke, Jesus’ ascension provides a transition between his earthly presence and ministry, and the work of the apostles as they preach the good news. More than that, it is the hinge that provides continuity between the mission of God embodied in Jesus Christ and the ministry for which the Spirit will come upon the disciples and empower them to follow in Jesus’ footsteps. Jesus’ story, begun in the gospel, does not conclude with his ascension. It is continued in the lives of those who were promised the empowerment of the Spirit and sent to tell the world about Jesus.
But Pentecost is still a week away. And our liturgical “location” invites us to embrace, once again, the liminal space between now and not yet, between promise and fulfilment, between hope and transformation. In our Gospel reading for today, Jesus was also preparing his disciples for the experience of liminal space and time, which would be caused by his excruciating absence. That time would be fraught with confusion and fear, betrayal and abandonment. Jesus knows that his absence will make it harder for the disciples to live as one, to be in communion with one another in loving service and mutuality, and to carry on in the ministry that he invites them to take up.
It might be helpful to situate our gospel reading in the larger arc of John’s narrative. Jesus was with his friends around a table sharing a meal. He has just washed their feet, setting before them an example of love that he commanded them to follow. Jesus explained that he would be leaving them and then offered them encouragement, assuring them that his departure had a purpose, that he would be leaving in order to prepare a place for them. He knows that his absence will be difficult, that the road ahead will lead to weariness and fear. He promised them that they would not be alone in this difficulty, but that they would receive another Advocate, the Spirit of Truth, who would care for them and sustain them in all that they would face. Through the Spirit, they would be enabled to abide in him and be nourished with all they would need to bear lasting fruit.
Jesus does not sugar-coat what the disciples would be up against. He told them that they would experience rejection, that the good news they proclaim and the vision of new creation they embody would inevitably put them at odds with the powers and principalities of the world. The disciples would be co-sharers of Jesus’ mission, but they would also share in the rejection he experienced. He explained that telling them all of this was not to meant discourage them but to shore up their faith so that they would not fall away. Yes, the journey would be difficult but in it, they would find true joy, his joy.
After Jesus had spoken these words of encouragement and assurance, he looked up to heaven and prayed. He acknowledged that his hour had finally come, that he had completed that for which he was sent: he had made God known to his followers, he had made visible God’s power and presence, and made known, in word and deed, God’s vision for the world.[i] He prayed that God would protect them from all that stands in opposition to God and God’s vision for the world. He prayed that God would protect their unity as they were sent into a world hell-bent on fracturing it. He prayed that the joy he had known in his relationship with God might take root and be perfected also in them. He prayed that God would sanctify them, would set them apart for ministry in the world, empowering them to bear witness to the truth they had been given.
All this Jesus prayed – not just for those who sat around the table with him that night long ago, but for all who would believe in him through their word. Jesus prayed, in that moment, for every single person who would say yes to his invitation to follow him in his Way of Love. And that means he prayed for each of us gathered here today. He prayed for you and for me. In this liminal moment, in this place and space between the Ascension and Pentecost, Jesus’ words of encouragement and prayer of protection are spoken over each of us. In Christ, God communicates to each of us God’s desire to “reveal our unity, to guard our faith, and to preserve us in peace.”[ii]
Jesus’ prayer for protection is not just to keep us safe from harm. There is a greater purpose to the protection he asks God to give us, and it is found in his prayer that we would be one, that we would be one as Jesus and his Father are one, that in that oneness, we would find ourselves also in union with God. As we look across the world today and observe the disunity that floods our social structures and relationships, our political and religious institutions, it can be difficult to wrap our minds around the oneness for which Jesus prays. What hope have we of transformation, of being so united with one another that we become one body? The divisions that seem so prevalent in our society expose the reality that unity is beyond human capability and makes us keenly aware of Jesus’ absence.
But I wonder if this isn’t part of the word of grace that John offers us this morning. Perhaps Jesus’ prayer is as instructional as it is intercessory. The basis for oneness, for unity, is not founded on human capability to impose conformity, nor is it an erasure of difference. Unity is not produced by effort but through mutual indwelling, through the Spirit of God drawing us into union with God in Christ, and in so doing, drawing each of us into communion with one another.
On the one hand, I find it a relief to know that the source of our unity is Jesus Christ, rather than our own efforts to establish peace and harmony between all the peoples of the world. That weight does not rest on my shoulders, on your shoulders, or even on our shoulders! On the other hand, God calls us to cooperate and participate in the work of liberation and redemption, of restoration and reconciliation.
My “oneness” with Jesus means that I cannot ignore the things in this world that disrupt, degrade, and destroy life. My “oneness” with every human being – past, present, and future – demands that I stand in solidarity with those whose dignity and worth are constantly destroyed, whose bodies bear the weight of discrimination and violence. If God is in me and I am in God, I must stand as a tangible sign of God’s divine NO to all that is death-dealing in our world. And, if God is in me and I am in God, then I must also stand as a tangible sign of God’s divine YES to all that is life-giving.
In his Letter from Birmingham Jail, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., reminds us that
“We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly.” Our unity, our oneness, is already a reality. We don’t need to build it or create it; we simply need to embody it.
In this time of preparation, as we await the gift of the Spirit on Pentecost, let us follow Christ’s lead and turn to God in prayer. Let us lament the ways in which Jesus’ absence is felt and experienced. Let us ask for God’s protection as we follow Christ’s command to love as we have been loved. And, let us anticipate with renewed hope and joy all that the Spirit is doing in our midst. Today, on this Seventh Sunday of Easter, let us pray for a fresh outpouring of God’s Spirit in our world, in our nation, in our cities, in our diocese, in our parish, and in our lives! Amen.
[i] Gail O’Day and Susan Hylen, John (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2006), 162.
[ii] Eucharistic Prayer D, Book of Common Prayer, 375.