Almost But Not Yet

Almost But Not Yet
Photo by Bankim Desai / Unsplash
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."

Many of us can relate to the experience of living in a state of “almost but not yet.” One accepts a new job but has not yet begun the work. One is engaged and the wedding is planned but is not yet married. One has completed the courses and received the marks, but the graduation ceremony has not yet taken place. These can be confusing and awkward moments as we try to sort out who we are, what we ought to be doing, and how we relate to the world around us when our identity is in the midst of changing. I believe this is where Jesus and the disciples find themselves in today’s gospel passage, though Jesus has a better handle on what’s happening than his friends.

This passage comes toward the end of a very long farewell conversation that Jesus is having with the disciples. All of the way back in the thirteenth chapter of John, they had dinner and Jesus washed their feet. The last four chapters have been the after-dinner conversation. Jesus has told the disciples of his coming betrayal, given a new commandment to love one another, foretold Peter’s denial, described himself as the way to the Father, revealed the promise of the Holy Spirit, described himself as the true vine, warned that the world will hate the disciples for their witness, described the coming work of the Spirit, promised that the coming sorrow will turn to joy, promised peace to the disciples, and is now praying for the disciples just prior to his arrest. And, as we have heard over the past weeks, much of what Jesus is saying requires a lot of attention and care to follow, much less make sense of.

Jesus is trying to prepare the disciples for his impending execution. He wants them to have some knowledge and some comfort so that, when it happens in a few hours, they stand a chance of carrying on through their shock, grief, and despair. But Jesus is also laying the groundwork for the ministry the disciples will have to do after his resurrection and ascension. He wants them to understand their relationship to the Holy Spirit and what that means for them in the days, weeks, months, and generations ahead. It is an enormous amount of information to share and, because so much of it has to do with God, it’s awfully confusing. Jesus is describing an “almost but not yet” situation that some of the disciples aren’t even aware is sneaking up on them.

It seems that Jesus himself is a bit confused himself at times as to whether he is coming or going. He speaks of the glorification to come but also that he has finished the work for which the Father has sent him. Perhaps, quite likely, it is my lack of understanding that causes the confusion, but it seems as though Jesus’ way of being is changing even as he speaks to the disciples. His circumstance is changing so quickly now that the time of glorification has come that it’s almost fast than the conversation can contain. I think many of us can relate to that feeling, too. When things are suddenly shifting so quickly that it seems like we haven’t even time to recognize what is happening, much less think it through and describe it carefully.

Here we are, the people of God in St John’s, Hamilton, today. We find ourselves arrived at the last Sunday of Eastertide. We are soon to be sent from our greatest season of celebration into our longest season of proclamation. A change in focus and a time when, like the disciples, we are sent into the world to witness to what we have come to know about God while we await Christ’s return.

It can certainly feel like the world is shifting more quickly than we can track. The running joke, which is painfully close to home, is that we’ve been having once-in-a-lifetime events roughly twice yearly for the last decade or so. We look for the signs that the kingdom of God is slowly, bit by bit, breaking into this world and making itself known. The little miracles that populate our lives, if we look for them. The moments of seeing the face of Christ in another person, hearing good news repeated and blessings shared among neighbours. Even as we try to keep our footing in the uncertainty and endless change.

The disciples felt a little lost and uncertain, too. Even as they were listening to Jesus try to tell them so much, they were having a hard time making sense of it. And at least one of them had the courage to say so. When Jesus explains that he is leaving the world to go to the Father, the disciples say, “Yes, now you are speaking plainly, not in any figure of speech!” (John 16:29) Finally, a straight answer about what’s going on!

The good news in the middle of all of this confusion and change is true for the disciples and for us. It is what Jesus demonstrates. It will be important for us to take into the coming season of proclamation. In every circumstance, confusing or plain, hurried or calm, Jesus prays. This is the constant that runs through every story, every encounter, every explanation.

The prayers are not always the same. Sometimes they are petitions for assistance, sometimes imaginatively describing what might be, sometimes about regulating people or circumstances, sometimes telling God how he understands himself, sometimes celebratory for miracles and victories and signs of God’s loving presence, and many more forms to be counted and named. Prayer is never far from Jesus’ lips. St Paul takes this example to heart and says we should “pray without ceasing.” (1 Thessalonians 5:17)

Like so much good advice and so many good examples, this one is not new or flashy, it is not particularly exciting or revolutionary. It is a reminder that some of our most basic needs are to hear and be heard, even in our relationship with God. It is a reminder that because we know Jesus we have a stable place on which to stand, even in the midst of furious change and a bewildering world.

Our prayer, whether it is the daily office, personal devotions, memorized psalms, rosary beads, or any of the other countless ways Christians listen for and speak to God, is the peace that the world cannot give. It is the still, calm place that will hold us in this in-between, “almost but not yet” time. It is our lifeline, keeping us tied to the approaching kingdom of God.

Let us pray:

O God, who would fold both heaven and earth in a single peace: let the design of your great love lighten upon our anxieties, confusion, and fears: and give peace to your Church, peace among nations, peace in our dwellings, and peace in our hearts: through your Son our Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

Andrew Rampton

Andrew Rampton

Treaty 3 (1792) Territory