SIXTH SUNDAY OF EASTER C

[cappie]

As Christians, we pray for “such good things as surpass our understanding,” This Easter season, as is invited in every liturgical season, it might be  rewarding to try to believe in what we pray… to know that we can ask God for beyond that which we can understand, and to actually believe that God can deliver it.

There’s a discernment exercise developed by Sr Elizabeth Liebert, SNJM, called “What do I want this very minute?”  After you quiet your breath and your mind, you ask yourself this exact question– what do I want this very minute? One’s response might begin with the immediate: a snack, or a more comfortable chair. Then it might evolve into a wider view: say of financial stability, and perhaps what one might want this very minute will expand into the universal: for all to know love,  or  for peace.

Praying for that which surpasses our understanding means praying for the things we cannot figure out ourselves.  Being a people, believing that death is not the last word, means we believe, truly, that God is bigger than what we can see, and that God is present in ways we cannot imagine, and that God holds us all, and blesses us.

As we discern our own dreams– with what we are wrestling, where we are being called, for what we are yearning, what we want this very minute – we have to anticipate and expect that the blessing of God is already with us.

Blessing doesn’t always look like what we want in our very first minutes– a new car, a significant other or a child, forgiveness of debt, more young families in church. But the image of blessing as found in the passage from Revelation gives us the more and more, we can come to expect from a bountiful God.  This new Jerusalem is a golden city, and crystal clear like a rare jewel. 

The Holy City described in this apocalyptic vision doesn’t have a temple, not even an ornate temple like Solomon’s. Instead, God is present and praised in every room and street. There are walls and gates providing safety and comfort and enclosure, but the gates are never shut. All are welcome, and no guests are threatening. There is a river, and trees, the food and drink of life. The vision of God, the blessing of God looks like this:  Safety, hospitality, sustenance, refreshment, rest, and joy. Hearing of this new Jerusalem, as John describes it, can elevate, and enliven the desires of our hearts for God and the consummation of God’s purposes. But what we learn of the new Jerusalem can function in another way as well.

It can help us recognize glimpses of heaven that intrude into our lives. For when we live by faith, heaven is not a far and alien country, but rather we find ourselves dwelling, some of the time at least, in the suburbs of the new Jerusalem; and moments come when we are granted sights of its golden crystalline splendour, often when we least expect this to happen.

Now, blessing doesn’t always come the way we want it– Jesus had to violently die as a martyr in order to give us the gift of life and hope in resurrection. Jesus has to remind his own disciples that they themselves do not always know what is best: “ If you loved me, you would have been glad to know that I am going to the Father, for the Father is greater than I.” Jesus knows what he wants this very minute, and that is to be with the Parent of the universe, fulfilling his role in the salvation of the world. The disciples know what they want this very minute, and that is to be with Christ, with the teacher, the way things are.

Even after Jesus is gone, he will remain. Even after Jesus is gone, his blessing will remain. He tells his disciples to keep his word: to love God, love their neighbour, and change the world. He tells his disciples the Spirit will always be among them. And he tells his disciples that he blesses them. Shalom, peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.