'Jesus prayed for his disciples, and then he said. "I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. Father, I desire that those also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory, which you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world.
"Righteous Father, the world does not know you, but I know you; and these know that you have sent me. I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them."'
--John 17: 20-26
For anyone who hasn’t spent at least three minutes having a conversation with me, I am a pretty big fan of the intellectual property known as the Transformers (as if this blog wasn't your first clue!). I have a little less than 500 of these toy robots in disguise, but my interest goes far beyond collecting the action figures, watching the tv shows, or reading the comic books. It’s the story itself that has fascinated me for so long, a story that is very human, only is told through the experience of giant robots that turn into everything from cars to dinosaurs. At its core, the story of the Transformers is a story about the capacity for change, the ability to adapt to one’s surroundings and circumstances; in fact, it’s biological, these bots must change and adapt or they will die. Most of the stories center on the never-ending conflict between the heroic Autobots and evil Decepticons, creations of a god-like being whose dream is that one day these warring siblings will put cast off their arms and become one single, unified people, honoring the diversity within their race while being of the same heart and mind as their creator; this is reflected in a rallying cry that is often repeated throughout Transformers stories: till all are one. These are the last words spoken by the great Autobot leader Optimus Prime just before his death, words that echo the dream of Primus, their creator, words that seem like little more than a dream but are nevertheless the hope that our ability to change will one day unite every person. Until that day, till all are one!
This is not only the hope and dream of the Transformers but also the enduring foundation of the Christian church. In this last Sunday of Eastertide, during this in-between time in which Jesus has already ascended into heaven but the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, has not yet come to set the apostles’ hearts ablaze, the Church is invited to reflect on what is often called the High Priestly Prayer of Jesus in the 17th chapter of the Gospel of John. The dinner is over, and Jesus goes to Gethsemane, as was his custom, to pray. The synoptic Gospels of Mark, Matthew, and Luke make it seem like the prayer was relatively short, but not so in John. Here the prayer takes up the whole chapter, and at its core is this longing of Jesus for all to be one. Make no mistake, this unity is not one in which the self completely dissolves, but rather it involves a communion of God the Father, Jesus, the Holy Spirit who is forthcoming, and believers in every generation. This prayer, that they may be completely one, is a reminder that the Church and its future are larger than any one generation can experience or perceive; a church that receives the glory that Jesus has given participates in his crucifixion – in loss and death – yes, but also in his resurrection – in renewed life and purpose. To be one with each other is to be one with the life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus.
The oneness for which we pray lies in something beyond doctrinal agreement and institutional relatedness; ecumenical efforts among different denominations of Christianity very often break down, usually over one or two issues. I’m not sure Jesus could have foreseen exactly how hard it would be for his followers to maintain a sense of oneness after his departure. Nevertheless, there is a radical nature to Jesus’ prayer, a prayer that he makes with the hope of total unity between earth and heaven, among all beings; not only for those who were alive at the time or those alive right now, but for all people, all creation, throughout all ages. Here Jesus summarizes his core mission, to call all creation back to our beginning unity in love, that we might know ourselves as the beloved of God, as Jesus himself is the beloved of God, that we might live in and from this profound and unifying love. It is the vision St. John had on the island of Patmos that led to his Revelation; a vision we see in that letter’s final moments in which all things have passed away and humanity returns to the place from which it began: union with all things in the Paradise of God.
Such a union is only possible through the power of love. That may sound trite, but it’s true. When I played baseball in high school, I had a coach who used to tell us that we didn’t have to like each other, but we had to love each other. We looked at him as if he had three heads, but what he meant was that we needed to be committed to one another, to respect one another’s dignity, bear one other’s loads, lay down a sacrifice for one another, and remember that we were in this thing together, that no matter what our differences may be, we could count on each other. Forget liking, he’d tell us, if you work toward loving each other, you’ll be unified, you’ll be one, and you’ll be unstoppable.
O how our world cries out for a felt awareness of this kind of unity, this kind of love! This week marks the start of Pride Month, a time when we remember that true unity comes when we honor the diverse expressions of God’s human family. It is a time when we recall the courage of the drag queens that began the Stonewall riot and the queer women who nursed dying men during the height of the AIDS crisis; moments throughout history when folks of all stripes have born the wounds of love for each other, and laid down their lives for the sake of communities and causes greater than themselves, just like Jesus. In the fullest expression of this month and all it stands for, we see that when we honor diversity, all truly are one.
Do you know, beloved of God, that you were on Jesus’ heart when he made his prayer? Whatever fears and concerns you face now, you do not do it alone because Jesus was praying for you back then and promises to accompany you even now. In these moments before his own death, Jesus prayed for you, and Jesus continues to pray for you and walk with you because that’s what unity as the Body of Christ looks like. To be a follower of Jesus is to be part of this greater whole; there’s no such thing as a solitary Christian. We are one whether we agree with each other or not, whether we like each other or not. Becoming part of the Body of Christ is to become part of the community, a part of the one. I can tell you that math was never my strong suit, but the transitive formula can help with this: we see God through Jesus, we know Jesus through his followers, the Body of Christ, therefore, we know God through the Body of Christ, through one another, in all of our quirks, our brokenness, our diversity. This was Jesus’ unifying prayer, for all of us that night in the garden, and it is his prayer still, through his Body today.
Some might wonder if it is too late for such unity. The Body feels more and more fractured by the day. But we can find hope in these words of Jesus to the one he called Abba: “I have made your name known to them, and I will make it known.” The journey is not finished. Jesus’ work, love’s redeeming work, our own work, is not finished. Until that day, till all are one.
