Wednesday of the Seventh Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 299

And now I will no longer be in the world, but they are in the world, while I am coming to you. Holy Father, keep them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one just as we are.

We continually reflect upon the Resurrection of Jesus and we should reflect often upon the mission he gave us. Recent biblical scholars remind us of what many Christians overlook, that he returned from the dead to send us on mission. The women first went to tell the men the Good News; and both groups went to the whole world. 

But he didn't rise to show there is life after death, as many suppose. The Pharisees already knew that. He didn't rise to show he was God. His message and signs had demonstrated that doctrine to the faithful, although the awfulness of his death might have left many in doubt. He rose to confirm what he'd been saying already, "make this proclamation: 'The kingdom of heaven is at hand.'" (Matthew 10:7) and "Make disciples of all nations." (Matthew 28:19) 

But he died, and is -- in an important sense -- dead. We speak truly of his resurrection and life, but he is also dead. His life in death is a great mystery. 

In this 17th chapter of John we hear the prayers of a man who knows he will die. Most of us live most of our lives ignoring the reality of death. When we acknowledge it, we immediately say, "It won't happen today. And it probably won't happen tomorrow. I can still plan for next year." 

But many people, recognizing their failing strength, and believing what the doctors say, address their own death. The wise prepare their wills, and plan their funeral arrangements, including burial or cremation.  They speak to their loved ones about "When I am gone...." Some spouses encourage their mates to meet, marry, and have children! 

I hear Jesus doing just that as he washes the feet of his disciples in John 12, speaks to them in John 13-16, and prays for them in John 17. He does not say, "Here's what I intend to do as soon as this business is over." Or even, "Here's what we will do when I get back." 

Rather, he says, 

"I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always...." (John 14:16)

and,

When the Advocate comes whom I will send you from the Father, the Spirit of truth that proceeds from the Father, he will testify to me. (John 14:26)

Because he has died, and is dead, we can speak, act, and travel in his Spirit. Were the man simply resuscitated, and not actually "risen," we would still be in thrall of a man as many are in thrall of dictators, tyrants, and bullies; or in thrall of an Ideal, Society, the State, or the Law; or feminism, homosexuality, transsexuality, DEI, and innumerable other ideologies. The Pharisees, to use the classic example, were in the thrall of the Law; unwilling and unable to think outside of it. 

Were Jesus simply resuscitated as Lazarus was (for a while), we would have to ask him continually, "Is this okay? Can I act, think, or speak this way?" We might ask, "Which language can we use? What gestures are proper? Which words are taboo?" and so forth. But as it is, we think, speak, and act creatively in his Spirit. 

There's always the risk, of course, and particularly since he does not pat each of us on the head and say, "Yes, that's the right way." We dare when we do just about anything, as when we "dare to say, 'Our Father...." 

Freedom requires courage; it doesn't happen without it. Which means we're operating without a safety net. And we're often caught in the snare of having done something which was not inspired by the Holy Spirit and was, in fact, a sin. We recognize it, admit it, confess it, and get over it. Sometimes I ask the One I love, "What did you expect of one made of mud." 

The Pharisees among us cling to security, and fear the freedom of the Lord's death, commissioning, and life in his Spirit. The freedom he has won for us by his death is daring, creative, and thrilling. It's often very satisfying, and sometimes fun.