Easter 7 B: Prayer is Love
Dear Partner in Preaching,
In this passage from the “farewell discourses,” Jesus prays for his disciples and….
Wait. Let’s not rush to all the other things Jesus does for or says to his disciples. Let’s just stop there for a moment. The evening before his crucifixion, and while anticipating an immediate future that will include betrayal, trial, condemnation, beating, and execution, Jesus. Stops. Everything. And. Prays. For. Those. He. Loves.
Incredible. To think about…, but also to experience. And perhaps it’s this experience that may form much of this week’s sermon. Because here’s the thing: prayer isn’t simply a routine, it’s not just a spiritual exercise, it’s not even merely a healthy part of our faith lives. It may be all of those things, but it’s also something more. Prayer is love. Taking the time to name the hopes, joys, concerns, fears, and thanksgiving of someone you know and bring all of that into the presence of God through prayer is an act of love, plain and simple. It expresses your care, your concern, and your compassion for the one(s) for whom you are praying. And it expresses your trust that they are as important to God as they are to you.
Prayer is love. It’s that simple. But because so few of us are comfortable praying out loud or for one another, we often don’t get to share that love. Which might mean that sharing a few pointers on prayer isn’t totally out of order. And, conveniently :), Jesus’ prayer offers two in particular:
1) Prayer is a chance to remind ourselves of blessing and give thanks. Jesus takes the opportunity to recognize the disciples and their fidelity – “they have kept your word” v.6 – and give thanks for them. Do you know how powerful it can be to hear someone thank God for you? That’s something we can do more frequently!
2) Prayer is a chance to share our deep-seated concerns, worries, and fears and ask for help. Notice how honest Jesus is about his concerns. He knows it’s going to be hard for his disciples, that the world will be hard on them, and does not hide that. Prayer is a time to tell the truth.
If you are feeling bold, you might even take a moment or two and invite people to pray for each other, right there in the middle of your sermon, either aloud or in the silence of their hearts. Or you might pray for your people, again right there and as a part of your sermon, naming what you are grateful for or the concerns you have, trusting God to hear you and respond. Or you might share a time when someone else’s prayers made a difference in your life. Not necessarily the outcome – “Those prayers sure worked!”, although that’s of course fine – but even how important it was to know someone was praying for you.
By way of example of this last possibility: during one of the hardest years of my life, I had two chance encounters with friends. One I saw from time to time, as I knew her family fairly well, and she told me that for some reason in recent weeks her 8-year-old daughter brought my name up in her nightly prayers. The other friend I hadn’t seen for more than a decade when we ran into each other at a conference in Boston (I lived in Philly at the time), and he mentioned that he prayed for me every night and had been, again for no particular conscious reason, for the past six months. Learning that these two – ranging from eight to twenty-eight years old – were praying for me was incredible, and I was sure in that moment that it was their prayers that helped me get through.
But instruction about prayer, I would suggest, is not enough for this sermon. Which is why I’d counsel including one more verse (or even two!) in your reading of the Gospel. Because v. 21 has this incredible, nearly incomprehensible promise in it, as Jesus says, “I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word.” And here’s the thing: We – all of those preaching and gathering to hear the preached word this week – are among those who believe because of the testimony of others. Think about it: the disciples shared the word, and so did those who believed their testimony, and so on and so on and so on…right up to the parent or grandparent or friend or pastor who shared the word with us and helped us believe. Which means that Jesus didn’t only stop to pray for his disciples on the evening of the crucifixion. But. He. Also. Prayed. For. Us!
This is what makes it possible, Dear Partner. Possible for us to continue on in our ministry. Possible for us and our people to keep trying to be faithful. Possible for us to confess our sins when we’re not and hear and believe the absolution. Possible for us to care for and love each other in word, deed, and prayer. Jesus prayed for us. Has been praying for us ever since, and continues to hold us in the center of his heart. This does not guarantee an easy life, let alone the material comforts and riches some preachers promise. It does not remove us from the realm of illness or disappointment, brokenness or loss. It does not, as Jesus acknowledged, remove us from the world and all its challenges (or beauty!). But it does mean that Jesus is with us, cares for us, loves us, and prayed and prays for us. Pretty _________ (fill in your favorite gratitude-filled exclamation) amazing.
Pray. Love. Because Jesus did. For us. All for us and always for us. Which makes it possible for us to do the same for others.
Preach the Word, Dear Partner, of Jesus’ love that sets us free to love others, and do so knowing that you, like the disciples before us, have been sanctified in the truth!
Blessings on your preaching – your words mean more than you realize!
Yours in Christ,
David
Very helpful as usual! You have helped me see the bigger picture of this text. My thoughts were getting lost in the details of the prayer and I couldn’t find my inspiration until I read this post. Thank you for your thoughts- God bless you! I’m sure my congregation will thank you tomorrow as well 😉