Of Memorials and Forgetting
John 17:1-11
May 28, 2017
The reading from John this
morning comes from what is known as the Priestly Prayer – the prayer that Jesus
offers around the table in the upper room where he shared the Last Supper, when
he knows his is about to be betrayed, when he knows what his disciples will
soon know. He offers this prayer for them, for his disciples – of his time and
for all time.
It’s an interesting fact of
Christian life and practice that almost all followers of Jesus come to memorize
the Lord’s Prayer and that almost none of us remember the words Jesus prayed at
the Last Supper.
What we choose to remember says
something about us; as does what we choose to forget.
Jesus prays, “protect them …
that they may be as one.” Keep them together. Keep them whole, even though the
world would tear them apart.
Perhaps we choose to remember,
“give us this day our daily bread” because bread at least sounds easy. We know that unity, on the other hand, is difficult.
It may sound as nice as bread, but we know how hard it is to achieve. We know
this truth because we know ourselves.
We are fractious. We are
disputatious. We are proud. And that’s the best of us … sometimes even at our
best.
Unity rarely comes easily, and
sometimes we humans are at our worst when we are unified. “Mob mentality” is
only a well-known term because it is a well-known phenomenon, and a dangerous
one. Cults are known for their unity, for “being as one,” but that’s about the
only positive thing that can be said for them.
Listening to reporting on the
terrorists responsible for last week’s bombing in Manchester, I was struck by
the observation that young men are drawn into terror cells because they want a
sense of belonging, of community, of unity. Obviously, there is a shadow side.
On the other hand, life is a
long journey and, as the proverb puts it, if you want to go fast, go alone, but
if you want to go far, go together. Together, we can accomplish so much more
than any one of us can manage alone. We can create more. We can nourish more.
We can protect more.
The whole of the gospel
narrative is about creating a new kind of community in the world. The richly
metaphorical writing in John’s gospel is crucial on this point, especially in
the Priestly Prayer. A few verses further along than this morning’s text, Jesus
continues in the part of the prayer that I call the “goo goo g’joob” section
(you know: “I am the egg man; they are the egg men; I am the walrus” … anyway):
20 ‘I
ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe
in me through their word, 21that
they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also
be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me.
The community that Christ founds
– the church – will be marked by this spiritual unity, this unity of spirit.
Just as Jesus is one with the Divine, so shall we be one with him. If, as the
apostle Paul put it, the church is the body of Christ in the world, then the
only way that followers of Jesus can have “a personal relationship” with Jesus
is through the church. The only way to “know Jesus” in the world is by knowing
the community gathered in his name as it tries to follow his way in the world.
The whole thing gets tricky as
we try to follow that way. Jesus prays for protection for his followers because
they remain “in the world.” He understands that the world will no more welcome
those who try to live as he lived than it welcomed him.
He understands the opposition
that has arisen against him, and he knows the only options left to him that
night are to run away or confront an overwhelming power that seeks to crush
him. He knows that his followers will soon know this, as well.
Jesus prays, “Now they know …
protect them.” Now they know the truth, and, while the truth will set them
free, the promise of liberation in this world is always fraught.
This prayer is about living
liberating community in a world where freedom is a dangerous thing and
authentic community a rare one.
The whole long struggle over how
to remember the American Civil War testifies to that danger, and underscores,
as well, the timely importance of what we remember and what we choose to
forget. In the remarkable speech given when monuments to leaders of “the Lost
Cause” were removed from their pedestals in New Orleans, that city’s mayor,
Mitch Landrieu, asked,
“why there are no slave ship monuments, no prominent markers
on public land to remember the lynchings or the slave blocks; nothing to
remember this long chapter of our lives; the pain, the sacrifice, the shame …
all of it happening on the soil of New Orleans.”
Those markers were removed in
New Orleans because the city recognized, at long last, that what we choose to
remember about the past shapes how we act in the present and informs how we
create the future.
The weekend of Memorial Day
seems like a good time to acknowledge that truth. There are memories that we
hold onto that hold onto us. There are pasts we cannot get past until we put
them in their proper place.
Individually, every one who
grows into adulthood recognizes this truth, and the entire profession of
psychological counseling rests on it. But we are not in group therapy today; we
are the church of Jesus Christ gathered in worship. Thus, for the moment, I am
less interested in personal stories than I am in community histories.
And I am wondering, what stories
of the past do we need to reconsider? What monuments do we need to remove? What
forgotten stories do we need to memorialize properly?
I’m thinking about this on
several levels. We’ve been talking this year about the Reformation, and as we
think about reforming the church again and anew, what monuments do we need to
remove? What forgotten stories do we need to resurrect?
How about on the broader community
level here in Arlington and the metro area?
What about at the state and the
national level?
*****
Let us pray: God of our time and
of all time, teach us how to use well the time we have been given. Give us the
wisdom to honor the stories of our forebears and to learn well from them, and
open our hearts to your spirit calling us to create the future you imagine.
Guard and protect us as we walk you way in your world, and, as together, we try
to build the Beloved Community. Amen.
John 17:1-11
After Jesus had spoken these words, he looked up to
heaven and said, “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son
may glorify you, since you have
given him authority over all people, to give eternal life to all whom you have
given him. And this is eternal
life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have
sent. I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do. So now, Father, glorify me in your own
presence with the glory that I had in your presence before the world existed.
”I have made your name known to those whom you gave
me from the world. They were yours, and you gave them to me, and they have kept
your word. Now they know that
everything you have given me is from you; for
the words that you gave to me I have given to them, and they have received them
and know in truth that I came from you; and they have believed that you sent
me. I am asking on their behalf;
I am not asking on behalf of the world, but on behalf of those whom you gave
me, because they are yours. All
mine are yours, and yours are mine; and I have been glorified in them.
And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in
the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them in your name that
you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.
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