Br. Luke Ditewig

The Sixth Sunday of Easter

John 14:15-21

Easter was six weeks ago. Should we be confident in the Resurrection by now? The first disciples were not. Their dream of Jesus had shattered. Seeing him alive was not an immediate fix. They often did not recognize him.

Near the empty tomb, Mary thought Jesus was the gardener. On the road to Emmaus, two followers had a long talk with Jesus, thinking he was a stranger. While fishing, others did not realize that it was Jesus speaking to them on the beach. The frightened followers locked the doors when they gathered. Why were they so excited? Had they not heard correctly? Had they made a huge mistake? What in the world should they do now?

When Jesus appears, the disciples are terrified. Jesus says, “Peace be with you” (John 20:19; Luke 24:36). Jesus says this over and over to reassure them. Resurrection scenes echo Holy Week, with Jesus reassuring them. Our Gospel lesson today comes from the last great conversation on Maundy Thursday. Jesus speaks to his followers, frightened in Jerusalem, where death threats loom heavily. Though afraid, they do not know what is about to happen. Jesus is about to be arrested and killed. Jesus does know, and he prepares them.

While Matthew, Mark, and Luke move through this evening rather quickly, focusing on instituting the Lord’s Supper, John spends five chapters on it. As Eugene Peterson wrote, John slows the reader down, inviting us to listen: listen to Jesus love and teach his followers to love.[1] Listen to Jesus reassure, encourage, and prepare them for his leaving.

“If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (John 14:15). Jesus began the evening showing love, visible and tactile, in washing feet. Love touching deeply, feet first. Be humble and tender in serving. Be vulnerable in receiving. Figuratively, feet are our fragility, fears, wounds, and heartaches. “Follow my example,” Jesus said (John 13:15). Love by washing each other’s feet. This is the “new commandment” – love one another in this way. Let yourself be seen and heard. Receive help, and care for others. Love one another tenderly.

“I am with you only a little longer.” “Where I am going you cannot follow.” Jesus prepares them for his absence, both in death and in resurrection. Jesus comforts and encourages them with the promise of the Spirit. “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever” (John 14:16). What? How? Though true, Jesus is not particularly understandable in this long discourse. What he says raises questions. Peterson wrote that Jesus “is not making things clear, smoothing out ambiguities; [rather, Jesus] is making them vivid, pulsing.”[2] When someone comforts or encourages you, what is most apparent? What do you most remember? Coherent words or plans? We remember presence, soothing, slowing, one being with us.

Vivid now and after leaving. Promised presence beyond absence. Slowing pulse. When we touch and hug, our bodies calibrate breathing and pulse. We can slow down with and by another body. Breathing. Pulsing. Soothing. Standing with to withstand.

Jesus reassures us with promised presence. “I will ask the Father, who will give the Spirit. I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you. Because I live, you also will live. You will know that you are in me and I in you” (John 14:16-20). This is tender love. Jesus is further washing feet. This is teaching a song to sing, ways to move, sowing seeds for resurrection, and poetry to live in coming grief.

The Spirit is here, hovering, mending, working resurrection even unseen. Receive God’s touch and pulse, and share them by loving one another. Practice being, listening. Amid heartache and much to do, pause to be.

Someone shared with me the joy of a relaxed reading of a novel. They noted a new, relaxed presence instead of shifting and skimming: joy at being present to the characters, plot, pace, the gift of story. As a new retiree, they are intentionally seeking more such being.

Susanna Wesley, mother of Methodism, had ten children, including the famous John and Charles. She sat or knelt in the kitchen and pulled her apron up over her head. All knew not to interrupt when the apron was up, because for those few minutes she was alone with God in prayer. Amid a noisy, full life, Susanna cultivated stopping to be, if only briefly.

“Because I live,” Jesus said, “you also will live. You will know that you are in me and I in you” (John 14:19-20).

Pause to be, feel, and follow the pulse of the Spirit. Receive and share. As promised, God loves with tender presence.

[1] Eugene H. Peterson, Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places: A Conversation in Spiritual Theology (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2005), 235.

[2] Peterson, Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places, 237.