A sermon for the Sixth Sunday of Easter: Readings Acts 17.22-31; 1 Peter 3.13-end; John 14.15-21
‘I will not leave you orphaned’ says the
Lord.
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Today
is the Sixth Sunday of Eastertide and we continue to proclaim: ‘Alleluia Christ
is risen. He is risen indeed. Alleluia’.
The
season of Eastertide is given to us to sustain our appreciation of the
resurrection.
For
Christians the resurrection is the epicentre and source of abundant life; the
resurrection of Christ makes possible our conviction that death has no more
power to come between human experience and the knowledge of God.
Eastertide
is a week of weeks, seven days times seven – seven being the number of
completion in the Bible - with a crowning day to make fifty. These fifty days
of Eastertide hang on the twin poles of the Resurrection – Easter - and the
Descent of the Holy Spirit – Pentecost.
That
gives us fifty days of intentional reflection on what it means to be, in St
Augustine’s phrase, ‘An Easter People with Alleluia as our song’; It also gives
us fifty days to ponder what it means to say that we believe ‘in the Holy
Spirit, the Lord and Giver of Life’ and contemplate how the Spirit forms, leads
and guides us as the Church, the People of God.
And
forty days into Eastertide comes the Feast of the Ascension of the Lord, which
we observe this coming Thursday.
This
is the time we recall Jesus’ bodily ascension into the heavens (Acts 1.1-11), when
the followers of Jesus have to learn what it means to share his life when he is
not physically present with us.
The
joy of the resurrection meant that the disciples could still connect with Jesus
present in their midst. The deprivation of his death, when they thought they
had been abandoned and turned into spiritual orphans, was reversed in the
resurrection when they continued to encounter Jesus, albeit in a new way.
Because
of his ascension Jesus Christ is longer subject to place and time: that opens
up access to God our Father, in Christ’s name, for people of all times and all
places.
Jesus’
ascension is not going to be about deprivation but about discovering a deeper
union with God, in Jesus’ Name, bound in by the Holy Spirit.
The
Ascension gives us a vision of abundance in the church that flows out of the
abundance of the Spirit and union with Christ, and not out of the narrow, human
centred vision of scarcity that denies the life of God, and blasphemes against
the Holy Spirit.
And
this is what the gospel reading today prepares the disciples for, and trains us
in too; preparing them for the rupture of their relationship with Jesus.
All
through the gospel Jesus is quite clear that he will not be with them forever,
that the time will come when, in his name, they will have to take
responsibility for their discipleship, but they will be able to do so because
the Holy Spirit will equip and lead them.
This
is why the sacrament of the Eucharist matters so much to us.
Jesus
is no longer present in human form, but in the sacraments the intensity of his
presence is manifest in the things that we can grasp and touch and hold: bread
and wine in the Eucharist, water in baptism, oil in anointing, another human
body in marriage. The sacraments are the breaking through of the grace of God,
in which we are reminded of the depth of the relationship we share with God in
Christ. And the elements of the sacraments – bread, wine, water, oil, bodies –
are given that capacity by the work of the Holy Spirit: ‘send down your Spirit
upon the gifts to make them holy’.
So
John’s gospel prepares us for the time when the Word made Flesh, who has chosen
to dwell in our midst as one of us, is no longer with us. And the sacraments
are given to us to connect us in the deepest possible way to God’s grace in the
Holy Spirit.
This
union with God is Christianity’s purpose, goal and end. Jesus’ discourses about
being the Bread of Life (John 6) or about being the True Vine (John 15) or
about his priesthood (John 16, 17) is all about abiding, dwelling, living,
finding a home, in God. After all, God has found a dwelling place with us, in
Christ: ‘and the Word was Made flesh and dwelt, lived, found a home, abided
with us’ (John 1.14).
For
God’s ancient, and first chosen, people the Jews, the relationship with God is established
and maintained by living Torah, the way of faithfulness to the Covenant.
For
Muslims, the relationship with God is established primarily in submission to
God’s will.
For
Christians the relationship with God is union and incorporation into the life
of God: ‘Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me and I in them’
(John 6.56).
This
is not a subjective feelings-based exercise – although it can feel wonderful to
feel alive with God – it is an objective reality. Living the way of faith, hope
and love in the Church, and feeding on Christ in word and sacrament, is our
incorporation into the life of God.
That
all begs the question of what we have been learning in this time of deprivation
and being cut off during lockdown. What is it that has been most sustaining for
us? What are we truly looking for in our hearts? What will a time of
deprivation and disruption teach us about deeper union with Christ?
These
are huge questions of course, so perhaps we might make this gospel passage into
prayer:
Lord Jesus
Christ,
you promise
that if we love you
and keep your
word
our heavenly
Father come and abide with us.
Make your home
with us
that we may
truly be at home
in you and with
you.
And may the
Holy Spirit come down upon us
so that we are
not left alone
but drawn into
your nearer presence,
now and always.
Amen.
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