Acts 1. 6 – 14
John 17. 1 – 11
Fr Alex
On Thursday we celebrated the great feast of the Ascension, as Christ goes up into heaven, clothed with our humanity. We saw a vision of the destiny of this humanity: that one day we will be like him, as all is remade and perfected, as he is perfect.
We also received the promise that he wouldn’t leave us comfortless, to struggle through the challenges of life until that day of new creation. He promised to send us the Spirit to be our Advocate, and to guide us into all the truth; and sustain us through our pilgrimage of life.
And so the Ascension points us to the Day of Pentecost, which we will celebrate next Sunday. But this Sunday we are in a sort of between time: Christ has ascended, but the Spirit hasn’t yet descended, at least in our keeping of liturgical time.
So what is the meaning of this period for us?
The Church since early times has kept these days as a time of particular devotion to prayer for the coming Spirit. We have already received the Spirit on the first Day of Pentecost, of course, and at our baptism.
But we pray once again that our lives may be renewed by the creating and transforming presence of the Spirit within us. That we may be more aware of God’s action in our lives, and in our world: and to join in with his great work of renewal.
And in today’s Gospel we see a particularly urgent focus for prayer from Jesus himself; and one that might inspire us in our own prayer in this season.
We’ve just heard the beginning of what’s called the ‘High Priestly Prayer.’ We see Jesus here as our great high priest, making intercession to God on humanity’s behalf. Just hours from the crucifixion, Jesus prays fervently his most urgent hopes for his disciples; he focusses on what matters most from his entire ministry with them.
He has made God known to the disciples. He has given them knowledge of the truth. Now he prays for their protection; and protection for one particular purpose: “so that they may be one, as [he and his Father] are one.”
It is prayer for unity that forms the basis of Jesus’ great intercession for his followers.
Perhaps he prayed so fervently, because he knew what was to come. Because we might ask, can we see any evidence that Jesus’ prayer was answered?
From the earliest days of the Church, Christians have argued about what it means to be the Church that is born at Pentecost. The Acts and the Epistles speak of great disagreements over who could share a meal, who could gain entrance to the new community, who really represented the Church, and all sorts of other things.
The Church today is divided into countless denominations and communions. You could argue that it is disunity that characterises the modern Church of England. Even within our own parish, many of us hold deeply felt and differing views about key aspects of faith, as we well know.
So what do we make of Jesus’ high priestly prayer? Has God simply refused to answer it?
On the Sunday after Pentecost, in two weeks’ time, having received the promised Spirit, we reflect on the mystery of God on Trinity Sunday.
This whole season has brought us deeply into the mystery of the Trinity: rejoicing on Easter Day in the triumph of the human Christ; witnessing him return to the Father on Ascension Day; and celebrating the gift of the Spirit on the Day of Pentecost.
Each celebration reveals difference in the persons of the Trinity: but of course each festival also honours the one true God, the One from whom all things come: the ultimate expression of unity itself.
And I think it’s in the unity of the Trinity that we find the answer to our problem. The unity that Jesus prays for is an extension of the unity of God himself. “Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.”
Jesus prays that his followers may have the unity that he shares with his Father and the Spirit. And this divine unity isn’t one static, immovable thing that looks exactly the same.
It is a dynamic, interactive, ascending, descending kind of unity; a mystery to be entered into actively, in body, mind and spirit.
Christian thinkers throughout the ages have reflected on this mystery as being like a dance with many dancers, or a song with different voices.
How might such a vision of unity affect our own experiences of difference in the Church? Perhaps the vision we strive for is not one of total agreement, but rather the ability to join in, in our different ways, with this shared dance, this divine song?
To see the ways in which different opinions enrich and enhance our own experience of God, rather than as a challenge to be overcome? St Paul’s vision of the Christian community was as one body with many parts – though different, none of the members of the body conflict or cancel each other out: but each works with the other in differing ways for the good of the whole.
The practical outworking of that vision will look different for each of us; and we know that striving for it is probably the work of a lifetime.
But we must trust that Jesus continues to hold us in that protective prayer for unity; that God will answer the prayers he receives; and that the Spirit works ceaselessly to bring it to fruition.
May we enter deeply into this mystery in these last days of Easter, and may we celebrate with joy the mystery of our God, Trinity in perfect unity. Amen.