The level of pain and sadness is overwhelming right now. The world feels so very broken. Today’s lectionary reading from the Gospel of John offers an unexpected and surprisingly relevant word — Jesus prays for us.
And for what does he pray? Oneness. Jesus prays that that those who are friends with God would understand that everyone — and everything — belongs to each other.
I welcome this prayer. Especially right now.
John 17:20-26
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."
These words are commonly called the “High Priestly Prayer.” They are the end of Jesus’ farewell discourse, several chapters of teaching and exhortation set shortly before his death and execution.
Prayer is pouring out one’s heart, a spiritual flow from our inner being. And this particular prayer carries a sense of urgency — even distress — in anticipation of suffering and loss. There’s no ritual or liturgy here, it is raw emotion.
This kind of prayer isn’t an intellectual exercise. Grasping its spiritual power comes from wrestling with just seven words — three subjects and four actions — repeated in Jesus’ plea.
There are three subjects in the prayer: Jesus’ disciples, the Father, and the world.
Earlier in the farewell discourse, Jesus refers to his disciples as friends. “I no longer call you servants,” he told them as they gathered for their last meal together, “I call you friends.” This passage begins simply, “Jesus prayed for his friends…” and not only those present at that moment, but all his friends through all time.
Jesus prayed to the Father. In Greek, the word is pater, from which we derive English words like “patriarchy.” Pater is masculine in Greek. While it can refer to a male parent, pater also has wider, more universal meanings and nuances — pater refers to life-giver, progenitor, Source, and the one who passes on the potential for likeness. The point of calling God “Father” isn’t divine masculinity. Rather, pater here is Abba — a word Jesus uses for “Father” — the intimate, relational name that recognizes kinship with the life-giving Source, the progenitor of all that is. Jesus prays to Abba, who is love.
And Jesus prayed about the world. Jesus is worried about the world. Not “world” in the sense of “worldliness” or sin. Rather the word here is kosmos — the universe, the whole earth and every created thing, all human beings. The kosmos has a problem. The world has lost its capacity to see that oneness is its very nature, that which was present “before” its foundation.
Jesus prays for his friends, to Abba, about the kosmos.
There are four actions that Jesus desires: oneness, belief, “sent-ness,” and love.
Why oneness? That’s the whole point of this emotional prayer. “Oneness” doesn’t mean sameness. And it isn’t a plea for institutional or denominational unity or interreligious relations. It expresses Jesus’ hope that his friends will never forget that although they are not the same, they are of the same Source. Humankind shares the likeness of Abba-God, who gives life to all. Friendship with Jesus is friendship with Abba. Oneness comes from kinship with the One.
Jesus desperately wants the world to believe this. Human solidarity (expressed as friendship) is solidarity with God. When human beings forget that we belong to one another, we cannot love and we cannot live without fear and violence. To believe means to trust, to hold dear, to give our hearts to. That’s what Jesus hopes for — that the whole world would trust in our shared oneness with the One. He knows that the alternative is brokenness.
And Jesus came — was sent — to proclaim this, to live it, to demonstrate with his life that it is possible to live in harmony with God, with others, with creation. He embodied oneness and he called a circle of friends and followers to do the same. The divine commission is healing human relationships, overcoming boundaries of race, class, and gender, and creating a new community of human solidarity. This is the glory of God, that which the second century theologian Irenaeus would call “the human being fully alive.”
Jesus’ prayer flows from oneness, trust, and embodiment to love.
In that order. Love is the final result.
Seven words: friends, Abba, world, oneness, trust, sent, love.
The problem, however, remains. A prayer — even one uttered by Jesus — isn’t a magic wand. The world has lost its memory of oneness. The world can’t trust what it doesn’t remember. And it can’t remember what it can’t see. Without oneness, trust, and embodiment, love is impossible. Disregard, hatred, violence, destruction — these are the bitter fruit of forgetfulness.
Every single day, we are besieged by the truth of this. Indeed, for the last week, every cable pundit and opinion columnist has bemoaned how everything is broken, how we’ve lost any sense of caring for others, how a kind of twisted self-absorption has poisoned us. It is killing us.
And yet. At least some of us stare into the faces of 19 children and their beautiful teachers and we see our children, we see ourselves. We are in them, and they in us. And they were loved, even as we are loved. We are one. We forgot until the pain and brutality of these terrible days jarred the memory.
Jesus’ prayer isn’t obscure or circular or distant. It isn’t a “high priestly prayer.” The prayer reverberates through the centuries. It is our prayer — is the cry of brokenhearted, of all those who look at injustice and violence and realize that every life lost is a savage attack on all of us. We pray for our friends, for our neighbors: “I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of all friends and neighbors, may we all be one!”
Oneness would have saved those little ones. Oneness would have protected innocent churchgoers from abusers. Oneness would have prevented the beautiful souls in Buffalo from a cruel death. Oneness would overcome so very much . . .
May we all be one. If only we knew that we all are one. That is the truth of things. If only we remembered — before the next horror. If only we trusted oneness. Gave our hearts to it. Lived it.
Jesus didn’t pray about us. He prayed for us. We can pray with him. And we can be the answer to the prayer.
Love would surely result.
INSPIRATION
You who want
knowledge,
seek the Oneness
within.
There you
will find
the clear mirror
already waiting.
— Hadewijch (13th century)
If you don't know the kind of person I am
and I don't know the kind of person you are
a pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star…
— William Stafford, from “A Ritual to Read to Each Other”
A small personal note -
In addition to all the misery wrought by the news in recent weeks, this has been a hard few days here at home. My husband was diagnosed with COVID, a mild case but COVID nonetheless. He is recovering — and I remain negative for the virus. But because of his illness, I hosted and participated in Southern Lights long-distance (with profound gratitude to Brian McLaren and Jim Chaffee) and so missed seeing many of you! It has been exhausting. (Please excuse any typos or grammatical boo-boos this week.) We appreciate your prayers. And are grateful for the friendships that have become part of The Cottage.
Grateful to read your post after a pretty sleepless night...thank you!
Thank you so much for these thoughts. In recent days I have heard politicians talk about the second amendment as Sacred. Really? Surely what you share here about Oneness and that we belong to the One and each other should be our response. Prayers for Richard's rest and healing and for you also.