The Other Lord's Prayer

The sermon for May 24, 2020.

After Jesus finishes up one last meal with his disciples and looks ahead to what’s coming, he enters into a time of prayer. We get that in all four of the gospel accounts. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke, we see Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. You may recall how it goes.

Jesus withdraws to pray. He’s in anguish and he prays that if it might be his Father’s will, he’d like to pass on the suffering he’s about to endure. And while Jesus is struggling and crying so deeply that tears of blood fall from his eyes… his disciples are sleeping like babies.

Well, that’s not at all how John tells the story in his gospel. After supper, Jesus prays. But the disciples don’t fall asleep. They’re present, and they hear every word he says. There is no anguish in his prayer… no second thoughts about his future.

First, he prays for himself, as he approaches the time when he’ll glorify God. And then, he prays for his friends, for those who are gathered at the table with him.

17 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, ² since you have given him authority over all people, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. ³ And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. ⁴ I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do. ⁵ So now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had in your presence before the world existed.

⁶ “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. ⁷ Now they know that everything you have given me is from you; ⁸ 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. ⁹ 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. ¹⁰ All mine are yours, and yours are mine; and I have been glorified in them. ¹¹ 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.

When I turn on the TV these days, I see eulogies for people who have been taken from us by the coronavirus. I hear a story from an immigrant on a hog farm in North Carolina who puts himself in danger because if he doesn’t work, he doesn’t get paid. I hear from a coroner in Georgia talking about the high number of deaths he’s seeing from the virus. I listen to the story of a doctor from Minnesota who volunteered to serve COVID-19 patients in New York City at the peak of their outbreak. And then I see images of protestors gathering together, carrying automatic weapons in Michigan in defiance of stay-at- home orders. I see people celebrating the lifting of those orders in Wisconsin, crammed elbow to elbow without distance or face coverings, in bars.

There’s always a tension between individualism and living within community in our country, but I’ve never seen it like I’m seeing it now.

Generally speaking, we Americans are big on individualism. We celebrate independence and self-reliance. But that value isn’t shared in all cultures.

If you’re familiar with South African Bishop Desmond Tutu, you may know about the word ubuntu. Ubuntu means I am who I am because of who we are together. It’s a world view that defines our humanity, not by who we are as individuals, but by how we live within the relationships with have with one another in community.

I need to point out that the Biblical world of which Jesus was a part was an ubuntu kind of world. A person’s identity was all wrapped up in their relationship to their community. I am who I am because of who we are together. They didn’t think highly of anyone who would put their individual needs above the community. So, of course, the Biblical narrative reflects that view.

We can read a lot in scripture that admonishes us to value the community as the Body of Christ, where we’re each given gifts for the sake of the rest of the Body. When one part of the Body rejoices, we all rejoice. When one part of the Body suffers, we all suffer. From Jesus, we hear a lot about denouncing our own self-interests for the sake of others. That’s what Jesus is talking about when he teaches his disciples, you must first deny your own life in order to find it.

Of course, that’s not to say that we don’t also have a relationship with God that’s very personal. It’s not hard to find scriptures that teach us how God values each and every one of us. I think of Psalm 139 – “O Lord, you have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up… even before a word is on my tongue, O Lord, you know it completely.” Or Luke 12 where Jesus tells us: “…Even the hairs of your head all have been numbered…you are more valuable than many sparrows.”

Biblical teaching does not negate the inherent value of each individual. But our highest value as people, is in the way we love one another in community. We see that in this prayer Jesus prays for his disciples.

He prays for their protection. Each one is precious to him. Just as Jesus and the Father are in relationship with one another, Jesus claims a relationship with his followers. All mine are yours and yours are mine. In fact, that’s what eternal life is, he says. Eternal life is being in relationship with God. It’s the life Jesus offers each of his followers, us included. But there’s more. It’s not so that they may each go off and find their own way in the world. It’s so that they may be one.

So that they may be one. It’s a prayer for unity within community. And how have Christians done with this since Jesus prayed for the unity of his followers?

We’re probably all aware of overwhelming evidence that would say, not very well. Christians have divided themselves and subdivided themselves so many times that there are more flavors of Christians in the world than Ben and Jerry’s could ever imagine, times a million.

And Christians of these different flavors aren’t very kind to one another. Heck, even within the same congregation, Christians aren’t always known to be very kind to one another.

Right now, there’s a lot of disagreement, and some downright meanness among Christians about how best to handle worship during this pandemic. Some already have decided they will remain closed for in-person worship for the next year. Others have insisted that God will protect them from the virus and it’s full steam ahead. Some have offered Holy Communion online. Others insist that we should all wait until we can gather in person. There are strong feelings about whether it’s right to go into the church building when stay-at-home orders are in place to livestream or record online worship. I’ve even seen heated arguments among clergy about whether it’s better to offer online worship that is live, or pre-recorded. I think it’s safe to say that no matter what the time and no matter what the circumstance, Christians find reasons to divide themselves from one another.

And yet, Jesus prays that we may be one. What does it mean for us to be one—to live in unity?

Well, let’s hope it doesn’t mean that we all agree on everything, because we’ll never get there.

Jesus gives us guidance about how we might be united in this prayer. If you read it closely, you’ll see that Jesus’ prayer for himself and his prayer for his disciples are tied together with the idea of glorifying God. The word glorify here means to make God visible. It’s about making God visible. God is glorified in Jesus. That is, God is made visible in Jesus. And then as Jesus prays for his disciples, he says “Mine are yours and yours are mine, and I have been glorified in them.”

Jesus is glorified in his disciples. In those who follow Jesus, we see Jesus. God is glorified in Jesus. And Jesus is glorified in his disciples. Through Jesus’ disciples, through us, Jesus is visible, Jesus is glorified.

That’s a key to understanding how we live in unity in these times. We live in unity as Christians, as Jesus is made visible—and glorified through us.

And let me tell you, I see a lot of Jesus being glorified through Ascension. Through the ways you’re encouraging one another through emails, phone calls, sending cards. Through support groups on Zoom. Through the signs you’ve planted in our church yard to encourage essential workers. Through sandwiches you’re making for the homeless and the tons of food that’s been gathered and taken to ACTC. Every act, no matter how large or small, is a revelation of Jesus. And God is glorified.

We may not always agree on the best way to follow Jesus, and sometimes we might get it wrong. But we are united in our effort to make Jesus visible and glorify God.

That means we spend time nurturing the relationship God gives us. It means we care for the community God places us in, whether in person, virtually, through financial gifts or by whatever means we have. It means that we’re always expanding our community, beyond ourselves, so that more and more people experience God’s love in their lives. It means we’re ever open to the Spirit working in our lives and in the life of our community, calling us to follow Jesus in new and challenging ways.

We’re certainly faced with new challenges right now. A grand debate rages about whether it’s best to continue staying home to protect our health, or to open things back up to protect our economy. One could argue that each solution is for the sake of individuals, or for the sake of the larger community. Most people favor a solution that allows for a safe opening, one where we leave our homes, but take precautions for the protection of ourselves and others.

It forces the issue for us on what we value and how we’ll glorify Jesus in the world, doesn’t it?

This prayer of Jesus touches on so much that we’re struggling with right now. As we make decisions about how our ministry will look—from how we might worship together to how we will continue to serve the larger community—I pray the Spirit will guide us, so that whatever we do, through our actions, Jesus is visible and God is glorified. 

You know, so often, when we pray, we’re praying to Jesus or through Jesus. In today’s passage, we see Jesus praying for his disciples. And I take that to mean that he also is praying for us. Jesus is praying for us. I want to say, thank you, Jesus. Please keep praying.

COVID19: May 23, 2020 - Come, Let Us Worship

It probably is no surprise to you that I have always spent a lot of my waking hours thinking about worship. Specifically, public worship, the way we do it together in community. Since the middle of March, my thinking about worship has become an obsession. I’ve got nothing but worship on the brain, 24/7. It’s the last thing on my mind when I go to bed at night, and the first thing in the morning. From the dreams I can recall, worship seems to show up a lot there, too.

Online worship has challenged me to the nth degree. That first Sunday, when we had a two-day notice, the only way I could think to do this was Facebook live. So, on Sunday morning, I opened my laptop on the dining room table and spoke to my congregation. The next week, I did the same. But then, I realized that this was making me a nervous wreck. I was so afraid something would go wrong, and I would end up swearing online. (This is something I’m prone to do, reflexively, when things go wrong.) That's when I switched to a recorded offering on YouTube that could also be shared on FB and our website.

Palm Sunday and Easter rolled around and I wanted to offer something special. So, I enlisted the help of a member of our congregation who is a professional. He edited videos that included music and lots of contributions from members. They were both fabulous! But we expended so much energy getting them together that I knew that level of production wasn’t sustainable.

It was back to me. I was getting a lot of feedback about wanting music in online worship, so our Minister of Music figured out how to offer a hymn at the end. Well, that evolved into two hymns. Then we added some gathering music. That’s about when we decided to go to a zoom format, since that would allow more people to participate. (I only realized this was possible from watching colleagues.)

While all this is evolving, I’m learning new skills. I have become a video editor and each week find something new to try. This week, I learned how to edit a video of photos with music in the background and drop it into our worship service. All of this takes time. I’m not just writing a sermon every week. I’m also writing a script, complete with video instructions, setting up a recording session on zoom, gathering extra videos to include, editing, and posting on multiple platforms. I haven’t counted how many hours this takes, from beginning to end, because I’m afraid to know. But I do know there’s a reason why I’m exhausted.

Given all of the above, as you might imagine, I’ve been sensitive to criticism. However, when it’s offered constructively, I appreciate the feedback. (Since I have no idea how people are experiencing this.) As a result, our online worship continues to evolve. Next week I plan to record my sermon from the worship space at Ascension, and we’ll be adding more participants and more liturgy. As exhausting as online worship is for me, I’ve also found it energizing as it’s tapped into my creativity in unexpected ways. (Less than three months ago, I didn’t know how to do any of this stuff!)

But still, it’s not in-person worship. Along with many other people, in the beginning, I wondered if we’d be back in the building for Easter. It didn’t happen. That’s when I thought, whenever we’re back together, we’ll celebrate Easter just as we would have on Easter Sunday. I figured that after we all went home for a while, we’d all be coming back. In time, I realized that wasn’t going to happen, either. Our return to the building wouldn’t be any time soon. And when it did happen, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

At Ascension, we've assembled a Safe Reopening Task Force that is working on a plan that will include a protocol for returning to in-person worship. As I have been reading guidelines and recommendations from a variety of sources, I have a picture of what our return to worship in the building will look like. Granted, I’ve been wrong about a lot of things so far, so I may be wrong about this. But here’s what I’m seeing…

Given the size and configuration of Ascension’s worship space, we will be lucky if forty people will be able to worship at once (out of 566 active members). Having multiple worship services on a Sunday leaves me wondering how the space could be adequately cleaned and aired out between services. (By-the-way, air circulation in this space is a great concern and we cannot open the windows.) So I suspect it might be best to only hold one service. Well then, how do we decide who comes to worship? Roughly half of our people should not be coming, from those who are over a certain age (which keeps shifting), to those who have underlying conditions. Small children may also be excluded because it will be hard for them to observe social distancing rules. Even with all those limitations, that still leaves a lot more than forty people who could gather for in-person worship.

Let’s assume you’re one of the lucky people who gets to come to the building for worship. It may mean signing a waiver and/or making a reservation. (Seriously, what do we do with the people we can’t accommodate in our space?) When you arrive, someone may take your temperature at the door. You will be required to have a face covering. Although there may be no one to greet you, someone will definitely need to police you. (Who will we get to do that thankless task?) There will be hand sanitizer that you will be expected to use upon entering. When you get to your pew, you will be spaced at an appropriate distance from others. (I imagine we will have to tape the areas off.) There will be nothing in your pews, like hymnals. Nothing will be passed from person to person, like offering plates. There will be no singing. Limited congregational speaking (No Creed, no Lord’s Prayer). Certainly, no passing the peace or touching, or even getting close enough to one another to do much more than nod. Holy Communion is a real problem on a lot of levels. The biggest problem I can see – how do you take Holy Communion with a face mask on? There may be ways around that, like prepackaged elements that you take with you as you leave, but again, not really what we’ve all been longing for. After worship, there will be no greeting the pastor at the door, no coffee hour, no visiting. You just go home. Somehow, I think that when people long to worship together in person again, this isn’t what they have in mind. And yet, to be safe, this is what it may very well look like.

And then there’s the whole issue of me, personally. I am of the age where I should be staying home, and I have an underlying condition. If I were not the pastor, I would not put myself through what I described in the above paragraph. It wouldn’t be worth the risk. I would satisfy myself with the many online worship opportunities available to me. But, as the pastor, I think I can handle this safely when the time comes. I envision myself showing up on Sunday morning, entering the back of the chancel, keeping a safe distance from others in the chancel, and doing my thing, with all its limitations. Then when it’s all over, I will exit the same way I entered. And I will go to my car and try to be careful driving home while tears are streaming down my face.

Can you see why I fret over this? Can you understand why it occupies so much of my mind these days? I only long for one thing more than I long to worship in-person with my faith community at Ascension, and that’s to feel the warmth of my grandsons' little bodies as I hug them again. But my longing will remain just that until I can be sure that the people I love will be safe. Until any risk that we take will be minimal, and worth it in the end.

In the meanwhile, I thank God every day that we have the gift of the internet during this pandemic. I can still be with my grandsons. I can still be with God’s beloved people of Ascension. Certainly, not the way I’d like to be, but I’ll take it.